Last Day in St. Kilda

Today is my final day in St. Kilda as tomorrow morning I travel across the Tasman to old New Zealand. The last weekend has been good too. Drunken shenanigans on Friday night after getting my new camera,
First up, here's a drizzly day camera test

And here's what happens when the Sun goes down...

Saturday was my penultimate day at the butcher's, and thanks to a tad too much wine I was hanging. That was about it for Saturday, I did also get my New Zealand working holiday visa emailed to me, which is pretty important as I wouldn't have got too far into New Zealand without it.

Free accommodation?

Sunday was my last day at the butcher's. Nothing special really, just the odd joke about New Zealand being in a different time zone... called 1994. But I'll find out about that tomorrow evening. Today I went out in the drizzle fo shizzle and took a few last photos of what has been home for the past couple of months.

What the hell kind of statue is that?

And now I'm packed and ready to get my New Zealand on! I have still been in contact with the farm supervising job that still seems a bit weird, so soon I will find out if that was a load of bollocks or the luckiest job offer ever.

Now I'm going to continue blogging on my New Zealand blog... here

So don't forget to keep an eye on that.

Welcome To Gordon

Written 14/01/12

Feeling as rough as a pile of gravel

So here I am, one hour north west-ish of Melbourne on a hobby farm near the village of Gordon on a road called 'Poverty Peak'. Simon is the host of this WWOOFing experience and he’s a nice guy, we had a beer and discussed how crazy the world is and how Australia just loves digging shit out of the ground and selling it to China. But of course, me being me, I went out last night and didn’t get anywhere near enough sleep as I helped Sheldon celebrate his birthday in St.Kilda. I have suffered throughout the day (damn these first world problems) but thanks to my unbreakable spirit I made it with nothing more than a mild headache and tired eyes.

I meant Shaun, why did I write Sheldon?

Last night I was out on the town with a few hostellers including the Essex girl (Hayley, whom I met on my first night in St.Kilda) from Maldon (who now lives in Basildon, small world and all that) and as is the way with the backpacking thing we all got trashed on $5 beers and I chowed down on the nicest kebab ever (not a sex joke)! Seriously, if you’re out in St. Kilda go to Sunshine Kebabs!

Me (UK), Michael (AU), Sheldon (UK)

Naturally, at the time of writing this, I'm hungover, but at least I’m over the worst of it (those couple of beers helped). Thankfully I didn't need to get the train today until about 4PM so I had plenty of time to consume enough soup and bread to keep my motor neurones functioning long enough to get to Ballan station. But as I was leaving, leaving, on that late afternoon train to Ballan, I couldn't help but get those feelings of sentiment towards those I’d met at the Pint on Punt. The Irish, English, Swedish, Kiwi, German, Little Penguins, Dutch, Aussie acquaintances that helped make the past week or so that bit more special. But a man who wishes to see the world cannot do so if he never leaves and travelling is what I'm here to do!

Melbourne is a lovely city and St. Kilda a great suburb that exceeded my expectations as I was told St.Kilda is like Melbourne’s Kings Cross. It isn’t, because Kings Cross is a dive and doesn’t have a beach and there are no strip clubs in St. Kilda (that I noticed). Melbourne’s artistic flair extends throughout the city to the point that the Southern Cross station is itself a work of art, kind of, it’s no St. Pancras, but it still interesting enough when you have to wait about an hour for your train.

Yep, it's a train station.

My view for much of the one hour train journey

Simon picked me up at the train station in Ballan and my ‘WWOOFing Part 2: The WWOOFening’ could officially begin.

The building is rustic and interesting but with a few more luxuries than my previous WWOOFing host’s place as this place is on the electricity grid (no phone line though) and it has a microwave! The surrounding area is also different from last time. Large open fields have replaced the valleys and the green that I was engulfed in at Wollombi is now a sandy beige colour. No dogs or three year olds this time, but I will soon be joined by two more WWOOFers in the coming days as some of the work that needs doing might be a bit heavy, but meeting people and rising to challenges are what make life worth living, so bring it on!

I’ve taken a few pics, so have a butchers and talk amongst yourselves as I start uploading the next blog post.

The windmill actually pumps water from the dam below

I saw 'dam', it's more of a pond.

He doesn't talk much, he's a little horse! HAHAHA

Moving On To Melbourne

Today I leave for the state of Victoria via an overnight bus service and last night I had my last night in Sydney.
It was always going to be a quiet affair as so many of those from the hostel have moved on, so where better to go than Shady Pines?

Not creepy at all.

Jim, Christelle and (of course) Matteo were in attendance as we drank, threw peanuts, laughed and eventually said goodbye. It is an odd feeling to realise that if I ever see these people again, it will most likely be in  France/Sardinia.

Matteo and I kept the buzz going by heading over to Scruffy Murphy's, a place I had often walked past but never entered. We laughed at the DJ and we laughed with some Irish guys and we laughed when the 'classic match 09/10' on TV was a West Ham game (that we actually won)

When Zola was manager, final score was something like 6-3. COYI!

The Crazy DJ was playing some pretty good tunes

Then it was time for Matteo and I to part ways, I'll no doubt make an effort to keep in touch, of course, I may even go to Sardinia one day, but it's always a shame to leave good mates behind. It is a side to travelling that few people speak about but if it wasn't for the bonds we make along the way, the whole experience would be a shallow one.

Off to the train station I headed, where I was welcomed by this...

Balls

Turns out the bus wasn't exactly regular, as I waited almost 2 hours before I decided to just use the last of my change ($4) to buy a kebab and wait on the platform for the first train of the morning. So for the second time in the last few days I would see the sunrise over Sydney's suburbs as I rested my tired head upon the window, giving me time to remember all the things I've done, people I've met and friends I've made these past months in Australia's largest city.

(click for 'full size')
Great times.

So I'll say 'farewell Sydney and farewell all I've left there!' And now on to Melbourne for the next instalment of my Awesome Australian Adventure! Play me off Cold Chisel...

I know it's a Vietnam song, but he mentions Sydney a few times and it's about leaving so, you know, it kind of fits. Plus it's got that 'road trip' kind of feel to it.

Why Would I Want To Forget All My Acquaintances?

21 hours into 2012 and I'm still a bit tired after a unique and special New Year's Eve. But first some background info...

I had bought myself a bottle of Cougar whiskey for NYE, but upon exploring the prime spot for seeing the fireworks on NYE it was clear that I may have been wiser to save my money as bringing your own alcohol was not allowed. However, not to be thwarted by such a development, I devised a cunning little scheme. I spent a dollar on some of those ice pack things for cool bags and replaced the weird gel contained within the vessels with whiskey. I would then place them in a cool bag with my food/cola et voilà, whiskey and cokes on me!

Hell yeah!

So with my contraband safely disguised amongst sealed containers (Pepsi), sandwiches, crisps and Oreos, I took the train to the CBD and walked to the Domain at 10:30AM to be greeted by this...

So many people!

I called Wiebke and Friddi, but she was already well into the queue, so I joined onto the end. Matteo joined me in the queue and then Christelle found us a short while later (with some Oporto) and as we made our way around the theme park style queue we caught up with our recent events (as I hadn't seen Matteo for over a month), ate chicken and drank a lot of Solo and orange juice as we weren't allowed opened bottles.

Good thing I didn't try to bring in party poppers as well! I'd be in serious trouble otherwise!

Almost there...

It would appear my ruse of ice packs filled with whiskey wasn't really necessary as security was... well... lapse. The guy looked in my bag, not really looking, more like a glance and then my rucksack which was filled by my camping rug. I could have easily just brought the whole bottle of Cougar in my camping rug and saved the trouble of such a great smuggling idea. Christelle too had a good idea, by filling a few of those squeezy yogurt things with vodka, and she didn't even have to open her bag, the guy just asked if she had any plastic bottles (she said yes) then the guy just asked if they were sealed. Good job guys!

It would become apparent that not only did we easily avoid loss of alcohol, but the spot Zoe and Michael had secured was, quite frankly, bloody brilliant. It would transpire that whilst looking for Wiebke and Friddi in the queue, Zoe and Michael actually just walked straight through the gate without queuing or being stopped, lucky sods! Wiebke and Friddi were already there and after 3 hours of queuing we joined them...

And sat down here! Right behind the media section.

Like I said, bloody brilliant. So now was the difficult task of sitting down and passing the time until the fireworks kicked in.

Yummy Whiskey

Yummy Vodka

It was also Weibke's last day in Sydney

The sun was relentless, as my red face would suggest, so Michael had his own cunning scheme of making a makeshift shelter with some rope, a sheet and umbrellas.

Success!

After a couple of games of Uno, a couple of beers, some food, whiskey, time seemed to be flying by (much like the numerous helicopters and light aircraft) and conditions remained perfect.

Hell yeah! Stunt plane!

The media crews were around, but I didn't recognise any of the reporters.

The sun started to set behind the CBD as we were treated to some sky writing by a religious nut job...

Am I going to... um... where is Hravon? And where is your question mark?! There's a special place in Hell for sky writers with poor grammar!

Apparently it is an annual thing that some church pays for, fair enough, but I'd rather he write something cool like a movie quote or 'help, my plane is on fire'. He did carry on writing stuff about Jesus, but Matteo and I wanted a beer/toilet break before the 9PM family fireworks.

I guess he meant 'Stone Cold 3:16' but didn't have time to write it.

Alas, the queues for the bars were far more ridiculous than earlier so I would have to save my money and stick to my contraband. On the subject of 'cost', there were some very crafty costs weasled into the 'free' event. For example, the queue for the water fountain/tap was longer than the one for the bar, however if you bought a souvenir metal water bottle (for $15) you could use a 'special' tap for free, if you didn't have the souvenir metal water bottle you could use the special tap also, but for $2. A can of Carlton was $7 and I didn't bother looking at food prices after seeing an ice cream was $4.

9 o'clock came around and we were treated to a taste of what was to come as the 'family fireworks' began.

Naturally, people tried to get a good view and some feathers were ruffled as people who had not secured their spot earlier tried to push forward. But the fireworks were great and it was just a prelude to the main event!

The Moon and stars kept the sky occupied as we waited for 2011 to pass into 2012, the media were in attendance and every hour a small peppering of fireworks took flight and left small clouds to drift over the harbour. The theme of the display was 'time to dream' so I can only assume the clouds were there to represent the thoughts and dreams of mankind, or something.

The water ways were awash with the neon lights of the decorated party boats as they paraded along the harbour, carrying those who could afford the ticket price.

And then the hour dawned upon us, the countdown started on the bridge from the number 88, the crowd showed their anticipation through cheers and whistles as the clock ticked down, all the way down to ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two....

...one...

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

20 minutes of bangs, flames and spectacle

The stars outshone by a huge display across the harbour

We stood in awe of it all

Until the finale took our breath away and blinded the horizon. Good show.

And that was that. 2012 was greeted by a blazing collection of sparks and flame and now was the time to walk to Wiebke's flat, but not before a quick phone call home.

But please spare a thought for the cleaners.

We did manage to get a free bus for the majority of the trip home as the train station was full of people and just getting a ticket would have involved more queues. From the bus we could comfortably view the populous revelling in the streets, which were really quite quiet, just the odd shout as the rest walked sedately to whichever path would lead to where they wanted to go.

For the sake of two stops on the train? Not worth it.

Christelle and Matteo had already left our merry band and so it was I and Ze Germans enjoying conversation and some wines previously purchased at the Hunter Valley. A great way to end the evening/start the morning.

But as the sun warmed the air for the first time this year it was time for us to head to our beds, or in the case of Weibke, head to New Zealand before going back to Germany in a few weeks.

Bleary eyed we walked to Central Station from Broadway

And hopped on the train to Hurstville.

The buses weren't running for another 3 hours or so, so I would have to get a taxi back to Sylvania. Fortunatly me and another guy were waiting for a cab, which pulled up, the driver asked us both where we were going and luckily we were both headed in the same direction, so I only had to pay for the ride from where the other guy got out to Sylvania. Then it was time to crash out (after wishing a happy new year via Facebook)

What a great 24 hours that was. Have a great 2012 everybody! (And see you in Hanover, Weibke!)

Play us off Jimi!