Episode One: In which I meet a hot American who I will never see again

Gasp! A hot American, leaving tomorrow, who I'll never see again? Whatever shall I do with her? Why, take her to Pushka and proceed to stuff my face with portugese tart, of course. I'm so romantic.


Romantic and an amazing conversationalist, by GoSailor's expression in this picture. Or maybe she was thinking about her apple juice, which she was less than pleased with. In fact, when it arrived, she poked at it for a moment with her straw, before exclaiming, "They'd never give you apple juice like this back home. It's like they just got an apple, and blended it!" Oh, Americans.

We spent most of our time together wandering the streets of Melbourne, and it was interesting to approach the city from a tourist's perspective -- what would I want to know about Melbourne if I was just visiting? But she'd already been here for a month, so had done most of the things that came immediately to mind. The advantage of her having been here for a while was she had loose ends she wanted to tie up, like going back to a Japanese video store to buy a dvd she'd spotted earlier, and to Bliss for Women to buy some airport smut.

To find the Japanese dvd, we wandered up Chinatown, and found this amazing restaurant, which totally needs to have my babies (click on the image to view a large version of it):

My favourites are 'Mao Please!' and 'Unveil Chairman Mao's Secret Recipes'. I wasn't aware he had any recipes, unless they're recipes for revolution?

Other favourite Chinatown encounters include a t-shirt which I wish I'd taken a photo of, found in one of those cluttered and fabulous Asian clothing boutiques. It had two little, black cartoon monsters on it, one saying, 'LOOK AT THINS', and the other replying 'YKJSFHIF SKFJI'. Amazing.

Because GoSailor is an artist, I thought she might enjoy the graffiti in Hosier Lane, so we went on a bit of a trek there. I love Hosier Lane because people spray paint there in broad daylight, taking their sweet time to create street art masterpieces. I wish my photos could do them justice:


My most favourite part of Hosier Lane is the creepy putty faces pressed in around the metal bars of mysterious purpose:



They're like a cross between Greek tragedy masks and that greyish substance you find in abundance on train seats.

The strange thing about meeting someone for the first and last time in Melbourne is that you don't really understand that you'll never see them again. Melbourne is so small, and the chances of running into someone again, even if you only met them briefly and a long time ago, are quite high. So, I find, every time I meet someone new I mentally make space for them, and the future possibility of them, but in this case the space-making was completely pointless.

Oh well. At least there is space in my brain, eh.