Impressions from Melbourne: the sun-drenched docks, the chill of Tram 109 to the Central Business District, the narrow streetcar boarding lanes sandwiched between lanes of roaring traffic, the cleanliness and tidiness of the city, as though the entire place had been scrubbed and polished just before our arrival.
Out of curiosity, we took a package tour to the Blue Dandenongs — a motor coach affair populated by other cruise boat passengers. While this made it possible for us to spend a happy morning wandering the village of Sheffield (where we had a first lunch comprised of an Aussie meat pie and chips) and seeing the view from the overlook at the crest of the Dandenong Mountains, the package had an unfortunate “time spent riding” to “time spent doing” ratio, and left us a bit limp.
We convinced the tour guide to dump us in the heart of Melbourne’s Central Business District so we could see a bit of the actual city before dashing back to the ship.
The City Circle Tram — the historic red trolley cars that rumble around the Central Business District — offers free rides to key tourist stops: Parliament, Federation Square, shopping. We jumped off at Elizabeth Street and walked up to the Victoria Market, a sprawling expanse of shops overlaid with a rigid organizational scheme: an entire mall dedicated to fresh dairy products, a hallway of butcher shops, a entire carnival of fresh vegetables, a winding lane of open-air food stalls glittering in the brutal noonday sun, covered concrete pads packed with row after row of shops selling discounted souvenirs, iPhone cases, computer repairs, cheap plastic tableware, and dubious-looking designer clothes.
We wandered here until the number of choices made our heads swim, and then strolled back toward the tram until the smell of chicken curry distracted us. We ended up having a second lunch at Coconut House, with Clyde ordering the chopped fried chicken with Thai sauce over fragrant jasmine rice and me downing a huge bowl of green chicken curry with coconut rice.
Our trip back to the boat was long and hot, as we wound up on the City Circle tram going in the wrong direction, and we had to complete the circuit almost twice before catching on to where we ought to be and why.
Today: a day at sea. Tomorrow: a quick shuttle to the airport, twenty-four hours on planes … and then, home again, home again, to a wiggly puppy, a purring old lady of a cat, good friends, and a familiar world made new again by two and a half weeks of being away.
I can’t wait to see you all again.
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