My first time

Liv and Matt at their local




It was magical. It was more than I had imagined... It was my first time in Melbourne. I finally managed to catch a plane south for the weekend to visit friends and explore Melbourne and its surrounds.

From the moment I arrived, I had the uncanny feeling that I had been there before. The city felt so familiar. More than the sense of familiarity I would have gained from watching Kath and Kim and the Secret Life of Us, though aspects of these shows admittedly crept into the weekend. Whatever it was, this was a place I was happy to be reacquainted with.

Melbourne CBD is deceptive. With its prerequisite number of highrise and commercial buildings, it is like any other city. But pleasure is never far from business in Melbourne. Also within the city, hidden, are old cobblestoned laneways, footpaths lined with alfresco eats and coffee shops, talented artists creating museums on the streets, and horse-drawn carriages ready to take off towards the Yarra River which lazily snakes alongside the metropolis, markets covering its banks on weekends. The famous green and gold trams easily pick us up and drop us off whenever we feel the urge.

The people are so well dressed, though fashion does not seem to be effortful here. In Sydney, I so often feel that there is a nervous insecurity that drives the fashion industry. In Melbourne, looking good is all about expressing the art and culture of the place. People, themselves, are walking statements- not of power or position, but of subculture, youth and artistic freedom. The barrista guessed I was not from Melbourne. Oh no, I thought. Do I look that unfashionable in my cargo pants and thongs? Do I scream "tourist" with my camera? No, I had said "skim" cappucino, not "skinny" he offered reassuringly. I was not convinced.

St Kilda was swamped with trendy locals enjoying the line up of cafes, retro bars and- wait for it- practically a whole block of European patisseries! I lingered too long outside one of the cake shops and then realised that I had caused a human traffic jam. To get out of the way, I ducked into the little shop. The sight of the pastries, cakes and breads had been bad enough. Now I was hit with the smell. There are few smells in the world that force a person to think of their future, mostly smells remind us of the past. But whenever I am hit with this smell, my future flashes before me. Maybe I will live in a little flat above such a shop, maybe I will enjoy my breakfast and coffee each weekend surrounded by these perfumes, maybe every special occasion will be marked with a ritualistic drive to buy these treats. I happily left with a fresh poppyseed strichtel in one hand, a "skinny" cappucino in the other.

Next was the nearby Yarra Valley with its melange of vineyards and boutique wineries. We stopped at a couple. At Chandon we ate our fill on platters of cheese and antipasto washed down with a bubbly glass of sparkling rose, it's light pink colour resonating well with the arrival of spring in the area.

The restaurants, bars and clubs were warm and friendly. Melbournites had alot to show-off- they boast an international culture- the food, the music, the art, the mentality. But inspite of this, or perhaps because of it, the city welcomes the newcomer with modesty.

The club we went to took two taxi rides and half an hour of wandering and asking before we found it, tucked away in a dark ally behind some rubbish bins. By the time we arrived, we felt that the city had not intended us to go there, that there was a secrecy behind its friendliness. But we realised that even the locals had not known where the club was, and with possibly the nicest bouncers in Australia welcoming us in, we soon felt that the search had been necessary, that Melbourne wanted to give up its secrets, but only to those who perservered. We walked into what felt like a house party- half indoors, half in an outdoor urban yard- grafiti, metal and bricks looked beautiful here. And the music! I cannot describe it. Just go there. It's called St Jerome's.

Driving towards the airport on my last day I realised Melbourne had been a fusion of what I loved about Australia and what I find so magical in Europe. I had tested out my backpack, but more importantly I tested out this country. A little test before I leave it. Melbourne passed with a high distinction.