Melbourne Trip #1: Philip Island

On the road again

As I detailed in one of my previous entries, I mentioned that I was planning on taking 2 separate trips to see Australia's second largest city, Melbourne.  As a traveler, I can not afford to "take time off" from work for weeks at a time.

The next best thing was to book my flights in advance (so they would be cheaper) and plan around the weekends.  So each trip, the original idea was to take the earliest Monday flight (7am), then take whatever the latest Thursday flight back to Sydney was.  Each totalling roughly 2-4 missed shifts (because that's how my luck goes to get called in when I'm not there) and 8 days in Melbourne, that's enough time right?  WRONG.

I absolutely underestimated Melbourne.  Each time I go, I have the most random adventures, meet so many amazing people and have a general rollercoaster of emotions when Thursday hits because the inevitable flight back to Sydney is approaching, which makes me sad.  However, on a bright note, Thursdays in Melbourne are an uncontrollable breeding grounds for attractive women because they attack the cities streets as if it's raining shoes.  I have aptly named this time of the week, "Hot lady Thursday" (touch on this more later).

The place completely spoils me.  Sydney is such a great place to live and yet, when I'm in Melbourne it feels more like home.  I'm not a fan of the colder weather and considering that it's further south and winter is approaching, I can't see myself living there...yet....

No extra motivation necessary

I pop up out of bed the morning of my flight.  No need for the alarm I set, I'm psyched!  I get to go to Melbourne!  I get to see penguins! I talked to several people in the hostel and at work, not a bad thing was mentioned about Melbourne, from anyone.

A friend that I work with named Elyssa  travels there frequently with her water polo team.  She gives me a list of a few streets and bars to check out.  One of my room mates at the hostel Joe, also notes a couple of cool spots in my notebook, including a club that stays open 72 straight hours every weekend....thanks Joe, I'm going Monday-Thursday....jerk (he's not actually a jerk by the way, but a jerk move does a jerk one make...or something like that).

That's all the information I have on the city, 2 pieces of scrap paper with possible fun destinations.  I booked a rental car because Philip Island (the place to see the penguins in their natural habitat) is about 2 hours south of Melbourne and I'm not the type to pay extra money and book tours.  I like to do these things myself if at all possible.

I walk down to the train station before the sun is up, I want to be there early just in case.  The gate is locked.  Crap.  I don't want to take a taxi because I don't know how much it costs.  I can't take the bus because I don't know which one to take to the airport.  I'm screwed.

I look in my notebook, listed are all the trains that I could possibly take depending on my arrival time to the station.  Nice way to start the trip.  I ask a guy waiting for the bus about my predicament.  He tells me I'm better off taking a taxi.  However, he also asks me if the doors are locked on the other side of the train station.  "You know the doors on the side that are only open for early and late hours".  "Ohhhhhh, those doors", I reply quite sheepishly.

I'm an idiot, have I mentioned that I'm pretty much useless during any morning hours between 5-10am?

I arrive to the airport just in time, the flight is boarding as I reach the gate.

I get on the plane, which is always a fun time.  Waiting in line, watching people fumble around with their luggage for things that should have been handled the hour you were waiting to board, the confusion and chaos that seems to bring out the "DUMB" in people.

Security checks for bombs and hazardous materials....I'm checking everyone for unruly/angry babies and old people.  It drives me insane watching these old people waddle around to their seat and check the numbers and letters 34 times to see if it's theirs (and it usually isn't).  Their pointing kills me, they always point at the numbers on the plane themselves as if to say, "Why that's not the number on my ticket, but I think I should sit here...okay, yes...I'm going to sit here".  ARRGH.

I'm generally going through the motions of trying not to kill myself watching what I like to call the "cows of society" graze through what should be an ordinary, easy task of walking onto a plane finding your number, finding your letter of your seat, putting your bag up or below the seat in front of you and simply...just...SITTING THE F@#& DOWN!

Another note, I think I've touched on this before in my "First Day in OZ" entry but I can't stress it enough.  If at all possible stay away from any large groups of Asian travelers.  I find it ironic that the race of people that probably travel the most, have the most awkward and difficult time finding their way around an airport/airplane.  Either way, they will hold you up, especially in security and custom lines, so just try to avoid at all costs.

My seat is near the front of the plane, so I don't need to go through too much of this fortunately.  I sit down next to 2 American girls and their brother.  "Twins Basil, twins!", is really all I keep repeating in my head.  We start our small "we have to be together for the next 90 minutes of our life, might as well" chit chat.

They're all quite arrogant actually.  They apparently have loads of money and are not only talking about their "options" but their very expensive means of traveling that none of them will be paying for themselves, complaining that the campervan their dad is getting is not "big enough" and such.

This is about as entertaining as chess on the radio to me.  I hate when rich people start talking about their "white people problems".  I understand why everyone hates Americans now.  I'm going to take a nap.  At least in my dreams, they'll still be hot blonde twins...they just won't be talking as much.

Quick tip for those flying into Melbourne.  There are 2 airports.  One is Tullamarine, the other Avalon.  Avalon is smaller and cheaper, however it will cost $30 to shuttle there and back total.  Tullamarine is the international airport in the city, you'll still need to set up a shuttle but it won't cost as much.  Plan accordingly, the shuttle from Avalon takes about 30 minutes or so, so if the flights are similar just keep in mind that extra time and $30 shuttle.

I get off the shuttle bus in Melbourne.  I feel a little queasy.  Not a bad, going to be sick queasy but a "holy crap, I don't know where I am, I know absolutely NO ONE here in this huge city, and I'm all alone" queasy.

This feeling never lasts too long.  My patented wanderlust always kicks in (it's no Shark-repellent bat spray mind you, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jg2okfrmR4 but it works for me!) and I start walking towards Elizabeth Street.  I had grabbed a map from the airport and wrote the whereabouts of the rental car in my notebook.  So all I have is the address.  Luckily from the pick up point it's only 4 or 5 blocks away.

I walk to Elizabeth street, which just happens to be one of the main roads in Melbourne central city.  So I get to take it all in.  Very eclectic views, lots of graffiti (tastefully done), historical structures and buildings.  Melbourne is a very cultured city.

I stop in to charge up my phone at a local vendor.  Which in hindsight was a good move because I would be receiving a very important phone call a couple sentences from now.  I arrive at Thrifty car rental, they always have treated me well, they're the cheapest too so it was a no-brainer for me.  I get the car, no worries as I'm pulling out of the garage, I get a phone call (told ya!).

The Irish Wonder Boy

It's my Irish friend Gavin, a freelance photographer I met at my first hostel in Sydney a few months back.  He had relocated to Melbourne and saw on Facebook that I was in town.  He asks what I'm up to and I tell him I'm off to Philip Island to see the "March of the Penguins".  He asks if he can join and just like that, I have a travel buddy.  This will most likely mean that I won't be sleeping on the beach or in the car to save money like I planned but on the flip side I'll have a good friend to travel and share the experience with.

He tells me he'll be at the train station in a hour, so I tell him I'll meet him there.  I need to go and pick up groceries and other provisions for the journey.  I pick up Gavin at the station and we're off.  He's been in town for awhile now and is giving me a guided tour as we drive.  It's a nice change of pace to what could have been.

We stop off in St.Kilda to see his friend who is running a hostel there.  Neither of us know where we're staying that night so he figured it would be good to set up a contact.  We don't stay long, we're trying to make it down to Philip Isle before sunset because that's when the penguins come onto the beach.

We make a few random stops along the way.  You would have to really know Gavin to understand but he has a real zest for life.  One of the qualities I admire and really enjoy about him.  However, if unmonitored he can waste the whole day with some great/some pointless interactions if you let him.  That's why you plan ahead when you're with him, if you're on a time schedule (like I usually am) then things get greasy quickly.

Busy?

When we reach the island, it seems abandoned to me.  It's not, it's just Monday and most of the area is persevered by law.  I'm exhausted and trying to stay awake.  I didn't get insurance on the car so I'm reluctant to let Gavin get behind the wheel.  I tell him we need to go find a hostel and chill out before sunset.

Penguins! Watch out!

We buy our tickets ($21 for just the penguins, we didn't care for the rest of the "adventures") and set off to find the hostel.  The one place we see first looks great but it's out of the way.  Gavin likes to play ping-pong and they have a table, we pretty much made the decision to stay there based on that.  But we figured we should head into the main town to see if there's anything worth staying there for.

We drive by a very colorful place, with lots of old classic cars in the driveway.  We pull in and a short stocky man, with a pony-tail comes out to "greet" us.  "What do you want?", he grumbles.  Very hospitable.

Tip of the iceberg of the collection

His name is Roger, we tell him why we're here, his cars caught our eye and what not.  He tells us he builds those cars for fun, and he has built accommodations behind his house.  Depending on what you want to pay is depending on how nice the accommodation, backpackers included.  Gavin asks him if he has a ping pong table.  "Fack off" (which is Aussie for F@#$ off), Roger replies and walks back to his garage.  I LOVE THIS GUY.  We're staying here, no question.

Roger tells us a great place to grab a bite in town before the penguins.  We order a pizza and I go check out the only bar in town.  It's a small place and again it's Monday, little do we know that the whole town shuts down around 8pm.  Looks like it's bottles of wine and "Goon" at Roger's tonight!

Roger drops off another traveler for us...or on us actually.  A french guy named French guy Robin, he caught a bus down from Melbourne.   He needs a ride to the penguins, we're happy to help, we also offer him a ride back to Melbourne in exchange for gas money.  It's an even trade.

Rules and Regulations

We reach the penguins, there are a lot more rules than I was anticipating.  There's no photography.  Which makes sense because the flash hurts their eyes and people are stupid, so they don't switch the flash on their cameras off.  They have bleachers set up on the beaches.  They're filled full of Asians and very loud Indians.  I'm emphasize LOUD Indians because they quickly ruin part of the experience for me.  

The idea of the "March" is that every sunset, the penguins come in from the ocean.  They walk up onto the beach and cross over to their "homes" which are tiny Burroughs in the sand dunes.  The announcer lets us know that if we're really still and quite, the penguins will come closer to us and we can see them better.

Again, I reiterate, LOUD INDIANS.  Idiots, all of them.  Gavin, Robin, and I push our way up to the front row before the start, we wait patiently to see these penguins we've heard so much about. Once the first penguins come onto the beach, pandemonium occurs.  You would think these penguins had $100 bills in their beaks.  It was ridiculous.  Asians and Indians alike all pushing each other trying to get as close as they could.  Didn't the answer just tell us to be quite and they would come near us???

All of them walking to the front, each being as obnoxious and inconsiderate as the next, not worried about anyone behind them.  Luckily, the rangers of the park...and myself of course, tell them to sit down.  Well, the rangers were a lot nicer than I was about it, but I like to say I did my part (the words "idiots", "retards" and "fockers" come to mind, can't believe the rangers used such explicit language...).

Thank God, they all finally leave thinking the show was over and we can actually see the penguins as they come closer.  The birds are smart, they've been doing this for awhile, they all follow the exact same route which is along the rocks and just far enough away from the loud tourists in the bleachers.

Aww, they walked us out

Gavin begins his normal "Gavin thing" and starts chatting up one of the rangers.  While he's doing that, I sneak off to the side to attempt to take no-flash pictures in the dark, you can imagine how many of those turned out well.  Here's the ONE:

Once everyone left, it was really nice, the penguins actually hung out along the side of you.  Some of them even walked with us on the other side of the fence back up to the lodge.

We make it back to Roger's place and realize that we are the only one's staying at his place.  Much to his dismay Gavin talks Roger into inviting us in his house.  It's probably the bachelor pad of the century.  He has a motorcycle in his living room, a built-in to the wall indian, a bar, just a sick place really.  All built from scratch.

Roger at his place, San Antone

Roger is a man's man.  Very old school in that way.  Not very technologically savvy.  Which is how we got invited in to his place.  He's also very artistic and it shows in his designs.  He rebuilt his entire home and added the accommodation on himself.  He is a man that never is without a project.  There's always something that he can build, fix, or improve his and other surroundings.

We started talking about his new video camera, he's planning on doing some filming of his adventures and trying to make a documentary.  It's a state of the art camera and he can't figure out how to use it.  I tell him I took some video journalism courses in college and could help him out.  Before I even get a glass of wine in, he throws the manual in my lap and tells me to "get to work before you get too drunk and useless".

Projects, constant projects

He's a very strange man.  Strange in a good way though.  He has a very tough exterior, but he's an artist at heart, I think that's his conflict of interest.  He won't ask for your help but he'll let you help if he really needs it.  He knows exactly who he is and what he wants out of life.  He never takes no for an answer.  I respect him for those qualities.

He built this Indian INTO THE WALL of his house

We spend the whole night hanging out, exchanging stories of adventures, conquests and dreams.  He showed us pictures of him partying on his yacht with some models, emails from former girls who stayed there and want to come back, things he's built, projects from the past...whatever struck him as something we would enjoy.

The man is building an exact replica of the "Bat-boat" from the1960's Batman series.  He showed us the emblem and the bat-phone from Commissioner Gordon's office.  Roger and his friends want to dress up like Batman, the Joker and other characters and ride around at high speeds.  He has set aside money for fines for when he finishes the boat because he plans on acting a complete fool.

Lights, Camera, Action baby

I helped Roger get his camera working and he honestly lights up like a 10 year old on Christmas day.  "Do that again, show me that one more time".

He loves us, which I think is surprising to him just as much as it is to us.  I don't think he thought too highly of us as far as first impressions go but it's funny how quickly that can change.  He asks us to stay another night and go fishing on his yacht the next day.  It's also 3am and the wine has been flowing quite heavy, I have no intentions on seeing the sunrise for a 5th consecutive day.  I tell him, "we'll see how the morning goes".

The morning came and went, I finally got the sleep I was looking for.  We didn't get to go fishing and unfortunately didn't stay the extra night.  Not much was going on in Philip Isle other than Roger and his shenanigans and I didn't come all the way down just for that.  So we had to hit the road back up to the City.

Can't fake smiles that big

To some it may have been an uneventful night in seemingly boring town.  It started out that way for me too I guess.  But I'll honestly never forget Roger and the things he told me (well, I may forget some of those things, I was on the "Goon").  A lot of people think travelling around and road trips are about making friends your own age and maybe even some look at it as an opportunity to hook-up with the opposite sex (or same, whatever you're into) without any sort of consequence or repercussion.

There was probably a time I felt that way too.  I don't see it like that any more.  The world is such a huge place filled with some really amazing people and I guarantee that they are not all in the 20-30 age bracket (not even close).  So while the hook-ups, short-lasting friendships and random acquaintance may and will definitely occur, there's so much more to behold and learn if open ourselves up to our encounters equally, no matter what age/gender/nationality/sex....because you just never know what they can teach you or the experience will bring you.

 (Below are pictures all around and inside Roger's place, obviously I was pretty enamoured with it all)