Amy, Ayla and I went to the city on the day after the Phillip Island trip and explored the markets, the free city tour, and the Botanical gardens. Along St. Kilda road, just past Flinders St. Station toward the National Gallery of Victoria, there are a bunch of little stands at which people sell their homemade goods. There was one man selling old books converted into journals, a woman selling small framed "flower bouquets" which consisted of real flower petals cut out and arranged to look like flower baskets (I will have to photograph this next time), and some people were selling little knitted koalas and animals.
Mr. Chimes
National Gallery of Victoria
War Memorial
The Botanical Gardens are beautiful and fun to photograph - s0 many beautiful flowers. I can never remember their names and I wish I wrote down what these were called, but I didn't. None of these flowers are necessarily native to Australia though and they are modelled after English gardens. There is a whole other garden dedicated to flowers and plants native to Australia. I am going to try to visit all of the gardens in the city, so I'm sure there will be an excess of flower photographs in the end including those native to Australia.
Pickle Cactus
Purple Windmills
Octopus' Garden
Reminiscent of Artichokes
After we visited the Botanical Gardens, we headed to St. Kilda. This clock is one of my favourites and I enjoy seeing it on every trip through St. Kilda junction. We walked around Fitzroy St, ate the most delicious dinner (after I asked a series of questions regarding the contents of my salad and was told that if I ever have an allergic reaction I should just hop on a tram because the ambulance will never arrive, great piece of comforting advice), and then met up with the Dutch guys we met from the Phillip Island tour. They do have names: Bas, Mark, Nigel and Reuben. We went to a bar called the Espy on Fitzroy St. and then to a gelato shop. Please note the discrepancy of height and size of cones in the photograph below. The evening was fun: we met them at their apartment and they live with a seventy-seven year old man from the Netherlands who was very sweet, funny, and youthful. He thought that I was from Mexico (and looking at the photo below this sort of makes sense), which reminds me: I am so infrequently assumed to be from the States. I am most often mistaken to be from Mexico, Spain, or just "European." For some reason, it makes me happy that I can visually (although falsely) cross ethnic boundaries. Aside from contemplating my ethnic identity, the evening was thought-provoking and I again recognized my appreciation of conversations with non-native English speakers. I really enjoy being surrounded by people from all over the world constantly. It's so interesting to just listen to different voices, accents, languages, and try to better understand other cultures and societies.
The boundary between 'stranger' and 'friend' has become almost non-existent and in this environment friendships develop rapidly (it's kind of like sleepaway summer camp) and seemingly out of nowhere. I am finding that it's quite easy to strike up a meaningful conversation - about religion, politics, relationships, life, etc. with someone that I have only known for a few minutes and it becomes a mutual learning experience. In fact, that's the best part: every single conversation leads to a better understanding of human behaviour, primarily how humans outside of the U.S. (and also within the U.S.) carry on their lives and relationships. And in the end, you end up learning a great deal about yourself: your language, beliefs, and knowledge of the world. Everything is constantly being challenged or suspended to look at in the light. It's really fantastic. Ultimately, I need to find a way to make traveling a part of my occupation or perhaps I can become a professional backpacker? I have never had such a genuine and pure desire to wholly understand geography, culture, language, and human beaviour. I have always been curious, interested, and willing to listen to people tell me about these matters, but it's much different and much more exciting to experience them first hand.
Gloomy view of Melbourne from St. Kilda
Conclusion: Everyone in the Netherlands is taller than me.
No comments:
Post a Comment