Table of Contents
1. Celebrating
Independence Day
2. Australian Winter? An oxymoron?
3. Oz vs. the U.S.
4. Emotional Check-in
(1)
This is a sad post to write, indeed. Here
it is July 4th… yet there will be no fireworks, no BBQs, no bike
parade, no red white and blue. This may
be my first uncelebrated Independence Day.
No, wait, I take that back.
I will honor this day: as my own Independence Day… my traveling here
on my own, being in Australia, back in the city I fell in love with two years
ago, rediscovering it, and myself, anew two years later. Ah, yes, that sounds much less depressing.
(2)
So Australia’s all sun and surf, right? Well, right, but even Aussies (“OZ-ees”) need
a break once in a while. It’s winter
here in Melbourne, and it’s obvious by the jackets and occasional scarves I see
locals wearing. Frankly, I think the
scarves are over-doing it. It barely
gets below fifty here. When Patrick
started to complain that it was cold, I gave him a long, hard Bostonian stare. Obviously this guy would never survive a New
England winter.
I must admit, it was a bit of a wake-up call arriving in
this weather; but it wasn’t the temperature change that shocked me so much as the
short days. (“Or long nights,” Patrick told me, “if you’re an optimist.”) It’s 6:50 am and the sun is still sleeping in
her nice, warm, probably-somewhere-over-New Zealand bed and it doesn’t look like
she’s going to sleep in for at least another half-hour. And last night skies were getting dark at
6:00 pm (as opposed to the New Jersey 9pm).
That was a bit strange.
But the biggest shocker was when I was walking around the
North Melbourne suburbs yesterday and smelled a wood-burning stove. That was too much for my poor, confused senses
to bear. Worse than jet lag.
(3)
So for the next three days I’ll be exploring Melbourne, Oz’s
second-largest city. They have great
public transportation here – trains, trams AND buses (oh my!). The fares are more expensive here but they
have a different rate system ($3.50 for 2-hours unlimited rides, $6.65 for
full-day unlimited rides) and are far cleaner and more reliable than anywhere I’ve
seen in the States. Each stop there’s a running
display saying when the next train/tram/bus is coming.
As far as gas prices go, I dearly hope that everyone reading
this journal already knows that the world is paying much more for oil than we
ever have. ‘Stralians are paying
equivalent to $6.50/gallon, and prices, like ours, are also rising. I was surprised to hear that they have an
economy dip as well, as well as similar housing problems. I guess economic fluctuations travel faster
than air planes these days.
Also what it unfortunate is that now the Australian dollar
is roughly equal to the American dollar.
When I was here last it was US$0.85 to AUS$1.00 so I was having a hay day,
everything being cheaper for me than the price tag indicated. (What does that expression mean, anyway? Is it hay day or hey day?) Now, an AUS$12 meal is, well, US$12. Stinks.
I guess I better cash in my chips soon before it gets worse!
(4)
It feels good to be here.
Although there are some things about being here that throw me off, it
doesn’t feel too strange or that unusual.
I guess partly because I’ve been here before, but partly it’s just my
nature. Those who know me well know that
often big life changes don’t affect me terribly much emotionally; more over, I
recognize and just accept what’s happening or about to happen in the same way
that we accept that today’s Thursday or that it’s 7:00. What is,
just… is, to me. So I’m here, and it’s 7:12 am and I’m in Australia
and everyone has funny accents and the money’s different and I’m wearing my or
Patrick’s sweatshirt every day and that’s all fine with me.
The sun’s rising!
