License plates in Melbourne read "The Place to Be." Rather conveniently it is, in fact, where I am. After spending my first night in Jail back in Christchurch the woman at the desk asked me what I was doing that day. I told her I was going to explore the city and then go to the airport. She asked if I wanted to book a shuttle. When I found out it would cost me $25 I decided to just walk. Her response: "Well, that’s ambitious."
The center of the city was clearly only reminiscent of its former glory. In many places there were equal numbers of empty lots and buildings. But, many of these lots had been decorated such as this one:
I set off from the city center cutting right through the botanical gardens. There I saw a game that I had never seen played before, Netball, and it was surely being played in force:
Even though I was walking around the second largest city in New Zealand it felt rather small… that was until I started to walk to the airport. By the time I reached the airport it was five hours after I had left my hostel. I felt so accomplished (and ambitious) once I managed to walk through those doors.
My flight was made considerably better after finding out that I had the entire row left to myself. I spread out, and started reading while the man behind me slept soundly and the woman in front of me probably took close to a hundred selfies of herself pretending she was sleeping (this took her a majority of the trip.) Once I arrived in Melbourne I had the quickest exit through customs I’ve ever had. I went up to a machine slipped my passport inside, got a ticket, put that in the machine, got my picture taken and then was on my way. I met up with my host parents who were nice enough to pick me up from the airport. Phil, Patrice, her daughter, Steph, and their two greyhounds Will and Holly (more pictures to come!) live in Vermont on the eastern side of Melbourne. They are an incredibly warm and inviting family that make me feel as if I’m a long lost child. The most notable thing to happen that night was certainly being called "a happy little vegemite" for the first time.
On Sunday we spent a majority of the day having a chat, getting to know each other and going grocery shopping. I’m happy to report that milk and fruit prices are both MUCH more reasonable than their Kiwi counterparts. However, things such as nail polish are about triple the price.
I never realize how American I feel until I leave the country (no duh.) It’s completely understandable that people will have expectations of me based on my nationality. (I sure have expectations of them!) However, I’ve recently felt the need to at least try and correct some stereotypes for better (I don’t own a gun & hopefully I’m not as ignorant, or stupid as expected) and for worse (I’m not close to any celebrities.) For instance, I was asked by a girl my age (in a serious tone) if all Americans thought they rode kangaroos to school. Laughing, I told them that we’re not all quite that stupid. Some perceptions are sure to be reinforced for the better (my tendency to work hard) or for worse (that I have a hard time biting my tongue and not voicing my opinion… oops.)
So far I’m doing well on the homesickness front. This is probably in part because I’m still very much in the "honeymoon stage" of the journey. However, I think the bigger reason is that I’ve now confronted a majority of my fears about this trip (ie getting lost, being alone, talking to a ton of strangers) and so far so good! That does not mean, however, that I do not miss all of you & hope to hear from you (thanks studio-mates!) so please do leave a comment (thanks mom & dad!)
