Melbourne loves its music, and three noteworthy performances popped up in the span of less than a week: the Taylor Swift concert, the St. Kilda Festival, and a night of Puccini at the Sidney Myer Bowl. Of course, a few non-music things happened that are worth highlighting too. Shall we begin? A one, a two, a one two three…

​It was the pre-concert migration and the trams were packed with sequins and colorful dresses. Along the Yarra, I merged into the masses of cowboy boots, hats, and Travis Kelce jerseys. Bike-drawn rickshaws were carting passengers through the crowds, playing Swift songs on wireless speakers. Outside the MCG, fans were exchanging friendship bracelets (including with security staff) and complimenting other outfits. Plenty of people were there to “Taylorgate” and listen as the music wafted over the concrete walls. Outside, there were merchandise tents, food trucks, and plenty of places to sit.

​Since the concert's official start was still an hour or two away, I checked out a free rugby match that was in progress across the street. It was the Melbourne Rebels vs. the Fiji Drua, and the first rugby match I’d ever seen. The frequent lateral throws kept the game moving faster than American football, but the dogpiles and tackles certainly reminded me of it. There was no scoreboard, but I gathered that Fiji won, as the field was lined with spectators and one side appeared to be the Fijian fanbase.

​Back to Taylor Mania. The Age, a local newspaper, was posting live updates on the concert experience like it was a major sporting event. I followed along with the updates from a scenic spot by the Yarra. I returned to the MCG closer to the official start time, and was close enough to hear the cheers as Taylor took the stage. The Taylorgaters all flocked to the entrances, trying to catch a glimpse through the open breezeways. The audience of 96,000 was the largest show that Taylor had performed, which says a lot about Melbourne’s ability to organize events. I texted my Swiftie friends, joking that Taylor came to visit me in Australia.

​Saturday morning, I rolled out of bed earlier than usual to join a community running event called Parkrun. There are Parkrun events held all over Melbourne (and Australia) every Saturday morning at a variety of locations – I chose the one at Princes Park. I recently acquired a new pair of running shoes, my usual Mizunos this time in black, and was eager to continue breaking them in.

​The Parkrun “vollies” (volunteers) explained the course, two loops around the perimeter, 5km total. Everyone lined up according to their estimated pace, and the run began. The event was much larger than I expected, with 536 runners taking over the footpath. My understanding is that running groups in general became extremely popular in Melbourne during the pandemic.

​The Parkrun system was extremely well organized. When signing up for the first time, each runner gets a personal barcode that’s scanned at the completion of the run. Similar to an organized race, the results are electronically processed and posted online. But unlike a one-off event, the Parkrun model offers the ability to see progress over time – it tracks your personal best time, and “anniversaries” like a 50th or 100th event. Not to mention it was totally free!

​After the run I chatted with a friendly Kiwi named Ben, sought out a water fountain, and took the tram back to my place. Someone had left a pack of free croissants in the kitchen, so I made breakfast sandwiches. While I’m not usually into mornings, it was a pretty great morning.

​Sunday afternoon, I headed down to the beach suburb of St. Kilda for the (free!) music festival. The weather was perfect – sunny and warm. Several major streets were closed to cars and trams. In their place, performance stages, market stalls, and food trucks had taken over. There were around 7-8 different stages with acts running in parallel, each with a slightly different character.

​The one I spent the most time at was the O’Donnell Gardens stage, which had several excellent rock bands, including The Heights and Hard No. They played a mix of covers that I recognized and original songs. The audience seemed to be enjoying it, as many people also stayed for a while.

I also checked out the Locals stage and caught an act with more relaxed folk music, John Wayne Parsons. The songs were inspired by the singer’s ancestors, and included one about the Stolen Generation (indigenous children forcibly separated from their families due to government policies).

​Walking past Luna Park, I stumbled across a lively pep band playing pop covers and dancing in the street. It was extremely fun and energizing! They were good performers, both musically and hyping the crowd.

​​The main stage was right next to the beach, but it was between acts when I walked past.

​The festival was alcohol-free apart from a dedicated zone, the Cointreau stage. I listened to a performance from a grassy hill while the sun filtered through the palm trees.

​For dinner, I got a plate of chicken, peanut sauce, and jollof rice from a Senegalese food truck. It tasted great, but the highlight was the beverage – fruit juice from the baobab tree, called bouye. It reminded me a bit of guava, and was very refreshing.

It amazes me that there’s enough public funding to have free festivals like these in just about every Melbourne suburb. On the same day I was in St. Kilda, there was a parallel festival in the suburb of Northcote, also free and sponsored by the local government. And a week later, I stumbled across the Johnston Street Fiesta – a Latin American food and music festival, with a giant stage just two blocks from my doorstep.

​We managed to squeeze a ladder through the window, unfold it, and use a plank of wood to create a stable base. I spent the afternoon on the ladder, using cable ties to attach one side of the netting to a pipe, and nails to attach the other side to a wood border. It was a bit of a tight spot, and pretty high up, but we had the right tools (and right team!) to get the job done.

Also part of the “working bee” were some of Gail’s family members – her sister Mandy, brother-in-law Darren, and father Ken, still sharp in his 90s. I had fun getting to know everyone over the tasty Greek food that Gail provided for lunch. The whole family exuded that Aussie charm – a mix of cheerfulness, cleverness, and camaraderie. It was a hot day, and after completing the job, a cold “stubbie” of beer was the perfect reward.

On Wednesday night, I headed to the Botanical Gardens for a free outdoor concert at the Sidney Myer Bowl. The free outdoor concerts have a long history, going back to 1929, well before the permanent bowl was constructed in 1959. The bowl’s design was inspired by the Hollywood Bowl and named after one of the patrons of the original concert series. A great recommendation from Zeah the guitar teacher!

​I arrived when the gates opened at 5:30pm, and the lawn was roasting in the sun. I survived the 2-hour wait thanks to copious amounts of sunscreen. Though I made the mistake of bringing chocolate Tim Tams, which promptly melted. My fellow audience members were in good spirits, with many enjoying wine and charcuterie boards as they caught up with friends. The sun set behind the Melbourne skyline, and colorful lights were projected on the underside of the bowl.

​The concert was performed by the Melbourne Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Benjamin Northey. It was a Puccini-themed evening, with pieces from Tosca, La Boheme, and Madama Butterfly. Two opera singers, a tenor and a soprano, played a prominent role. I thought the tenor was especially good and absolutely nailed the famous aria “nessun dorma” from Turandot. The whole concert was being broadcast on the radio and internet. Between pieces, an ABC radio host interviewed the opera singers about their characters and careers. Two video screens provided closeup views of the singers and instruments, which was helpful for seeing the back rows of the orchestra. I wasn't familiar with Puccini's music but it was a wonderful concert, especially with the warm summer breeze.

​After the Sidney Myer concert, I walked through the Botanical Gardens and over the Yarra river, enjoying the city lights. The Taylor Swift projections were no longer adorning Flinders Station, but Melbourne still felt just as vibrant and musical. A good note to end this chapter on.

Putting the job search on hold was like turning over a new leaf. No longer preoccupied with the daily web-crawl through Seek.com, or whether anyone would realize I was wearing the same pink shirt for my daily resume drops, I now had more bandwidth for travel planning and special events.
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The public library continued to be a reliable friend, with plenty of travel books on the shelf. I found the enormous All-Australia edition of the Lonely Planet guidebook, thicker than a kangaroo tail and packed with useful information. I started reading up on my dream destinations – Kakadu, Uluru, and Perth – these lofty goals now made more tangible by the weight of the book. Among the library’s selection of travel books was the hilariously named “Melbourne for Dogs” – a new segment of the tourism market?

​Furthering the sense of renewal was the start of a new lunar year – the Year of the Dragon. Melbourne has a prominent Chinatown, right in the heart of the CBD, and about 8% of the city’s population has Chinese ancestry. It was a hot Sunday morning and I ventured out to see the festivities.

​The morning performances included an impressive lineup of dragon puppets, lion dances, and drumming. The crowd was densely packed, to the point where mobility was limited, but I squeezed my way into a shady vantage point. Between the heads, phones, and kids on their parents’ shoulders, I could catch glimpses of the spectacle. It helped that the dragons and lions were often held aloft. The dragons spun in circles, swirled in corkscrew patterns, and at the end of the routine, coiled into a ball for a pose. A bald character with a papier mâché head ran across the stage, helping tell the story. 

​After the performance began the parade – the sea of dragons and lions flowed out through the archway, and the platform with the drum brigade rolled behind. The crowd control was quite an ordeal. A vanguard of security staff walked ahead of the dragons, yelling at people to clear a path and get out of the street.

​Also part of the parade was the Dai Loong dragon, an absurdly long float carried by hundreds of people. I believe it's one of the longest dragons in the whole world! I happened to see it at two points on the route, the main square and the terminus of the parade. At the last stop, it did a tricky “parallel park” maneuver, backing up through an archway and towards the Melbourne Chinese Museum, its permanent home.

​Of course, there were lots of other elements to the festival – food stalls, a temple for prayer, a giant inflatable dragon for photos, a stage where people in suits gave speeches, a live rock band, and roaming lion dancers that were blessing local businesses.

​In a different part of the city, another major festival was running in parallel: the Midsumma Block Party, a Pride event. It was held along Gertrude Street and Smith Street in Fitzroy, a trendy area with a large queer community. Both streets were closed to traffic, and it was a vibrant scene with crowds gathered around outdoor music stages and bustling neighborhood bars. I strolled through to soak up the energy, but it was too hot and crowded for an extended stop.

Life around the apartment complex continued to be chill. I watched the Superbowl -- my patriotic duty as an American -- though it was a Monday morning in Australia and the US commercials were replaced with local ones. I figured out how to get packages held at the local post office, as my apartment didn’t have a secure package area, enabling me to place some online orders. I made fried rice for dinner, and chatted with a new resident from Saudi Arabia, a project manager. Ahmed was a little hard to figure out – it sounded like he had flown to Melbourne on short-notice, leaving his wife and daughter at home, and had some vague plans of studying. But he was clearly open to dialogue, and it was interesting to hear his frustrations at being personally berated by Western strangers for his society's treatment of women. We talked about housing and family; he didn’t own a house, and it was something he strongly desired. He made a passing comment that in the event of a divorce, the wife would be kicked out of the house. He loved his daughter but also explained his culture’s expectations that kids are supposed to take care of aging parents, regardless of how they were treated. Listening with a charitable ear was required to keep the conversation going. I also briefly met a nice photography student from Mexico City.

​​Around this time, Gail had two different rounds of Servas guests, and invited me to join their outings. The first guests were Peter and Hana, a couple from Denmark. Peter was a hospital perfusionist for cardiopulmonary bypass (naturally we chatted about medical devices!) and Hana was a professor at an architecture school. Another former Servas guest, Emilie from France, also joined for the evening. Together, the five of us walked to the Gasworks, an industrial brick building now serving as an arts hub, for a Friday night pop-up market.

​The highlight was a live music performance by Charlie Needs Braces, two young women who used a loop recorder to create rich and funky tracks, with layers of percussion, trumpet, and vocal harmonies. One song (“yanoo”) was inspired by a robot waiter; the chorus involved some audience arm-waving. It was quirky and fun.

​We walked through the neighborhood in search of food, and found a bustling corner pub. The interior was full, but there were tables outside, and we braved the chilly evening with help from a blanket and a  flame heater. I ordered a “parma” (short for chicken parmesan), a classic Aussie pub entrée. The portion was quite generous! And according to Gail, not even the largest parma in town. I also had my first pint of Carlton Draught, a nod to my new home. The company’s logo, two red and white horses, is a regular sighting throughout Melbourne.

​It was fun chatting with Peter, Hana, Gail, and Emilie throughout the evening. Or “Gail’s Servas Club,” as we started to call it. Peter and Hana were headed to Chile next, and Emilie was headed to Bangkok – two exciting destinations that I'd also visited. On our walk through the dark South Melbourne streets, we spotted an owl on a lamppost and possums on the powerlines. After the group split, Emilie and I were taking the same tram, and continued chatting. I heard a rare story of a Servas stay that didn’t go well, when the host tried to take advantage of Emilie’s online marketing consulting skills without paying.

One day, a pattern of unusual weather hit. It was a hot day, reaching 95 Fahrenheit, but there was also hail, thunder, and lightning. Downed tree branches wreaked havoc on the grid, with lots of power outages through the city. Trains and trams were disrupted, and everyone was a bit discombobulated. The next day, it was cold and gray. The magpies in the Carlton Gardens investigated the piles of branches.

Soon, the newest member of Gail’s Servas Club was visiting from London, and I was invited to join the two of them for an evening in the beach suburb of St. Kilda. I arrived at Gail’s place and chatted with Pete, a Churchill scholar and wheelchair super-user, on his first stop of an Australia-New Zealand tour to connect with disabled innovators and researchers. His rolling suitcase had lost a wheel, and I helped attach two replacement wheels from the hardware store, a desperate repair job before his trip to Sydney.

​Pete was very amiable and open to my curious questions. I had never spent time around an experienced wheelchair user, especially one so active and outgoing. The day before, Pete had been wakeboarding! I learned that he was planning on driving a car in both AUS and NZ using a system of hand controls. He was kind enough to pull them out and explain how they worked – an interesting overlap between the medical device and automotive world! For our St. Kilda outing, he attached a motorized third wheel to the front of the chair, and handled the tram boarding and footpaths with ease. A really inspiring person – you can see his TED talk here.

In St. Kilda, we had dinner at the Esplanade Hotel, aka the “Espy.” It was a large venue with multiple interlocking bar and restaurant areas – one with pub trivia in progress, others with cozy tables set up for Valentine’s Day. The concierge lady was super accommodating and helped us get a table despite not having a reservation. We sat in a back seating area near the pizza oven, with neon lights in the shape of a pizza slice and a disco ball. Naturally, I ordered a tasty pizza!

​We just missed the sunset, but it was still a lovely time to stroll along the beach promenade. The lampposts were projecting colorful shapes onto the footpath. We walked out onto the pier for views looking back towards the city skyline, and checked out the entrance to the Luna Park, a classic beachside theme park complete with a wooden rollercoaster. Finally, we walked along Acland Street, one of the arteries of the suburb, and peeked at window displays of cakes that would have been more tempting if we weren’t stuffed from dinner.

It was really nice of Gail to include me in the two outings (Gasworks and St. Kilda). Not only did it build on our connection from my initial stay, but it was a great way to meet fellow Servas travelers and see new parts of Melbourne!
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As you can see, the Year of the Dragon was off to an auspicious start.

With a stable home base in Carlton, my next task was looking for a casual job in the hospitality sector – perhaps working as a barista, waiter, or even a bartender. The initial outlook was positive. I was close to Lygon St and Brunswick St, both popular restaurant and café destinations with a dizzying number of establishments. I also had a template to follow for my search, after hearing about Madoka’s experience moving to Melbourne on a working holiday visa and finding hospitality work within a few weeks. It seemed like getting out there was the missing ingredient.
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I started going door to door on a quiet Monday, targeting restaurants that appeared to have a lull, and avoiding ones that seemed to be actively serving customers. To prepare, I had spent countless hours looking at online job postings on Gumtree and Seek, to get a sense on what local spots might be hiring. Embarking on my walk, I was also armed with a folder of freshly printed resumes, the nicest shirt I currently had with me, and my recent haircut. Who wouldn’t want to hire this guy?

​I started with some of the restaurants on Lygon Street, with such diverse names as Apertivo, Heart Attack and Vine, Milk the Cow, and Grill’d. I was met with politeness, and about half took my resume. The person at Grill’d was kind enough to mention openings at their other locations.

On Tuesday, I headed back to Fitzroy for another pass. Another set of cafes, bars, and Mexican restaurants including Amarillo, El Camino, Rooks Retreat, Sila Espresso, Wolfhound, and the Union Hotel. More friendliness, regardless of whether they had openings or not.
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On Wednesday, I went north to target a specific spot – the newly opened Fomo Cinemas, which I had heard about from the girl at Shakespeare in the Park. One of the owners listened to my pitch and took my resume. He explained things were still settling from their grand opening, with a possibility of openings in March, and wished me luck. Since I was in Brunswick East, a suburb I had never visited, I stuck my head in a few spots like Bridge Road Brewing, Craftsman’s Corner, La Candelaria, and Teller. I knew that higher-end places were less likely to hire a newbie, but I also figured I might as well try, especially when in the area. The bartender at Craftsman’s Corner very tactfully rejected my inquiry due to lack of experience. On the other hand, the staff at Teller was happy to take my resume despite being relatively fancy. These contrasting experiences made me wonder whether all the politeness I had been encountering was just good hospitality, regardless of my prospects. I felt more qualified to drop a resume at La Candelaria, a casual Colombian restaurant.

That evening, while making a curry chicken dinner, I had a nice chat with Alex, the quiet Frenchman. He was working at Brunetti, an Italian café, though not the main location on Lygon Street. I asked him for tips on searching for a job, and he emphasized that experience was really important to employers – to the point that his friends had embellished their resumes with fake entries to get their foot in the door. He wasn’t advocating for this method, but it was still insightful in a depressing way.

On Thursday, I rewrote my resume to blow up the experience section – leaning on past jobs and volunteer work that were real, but playing up the customer-related aspects. I returned to the local library, the Kathleen Syme, and cobbled together some spare coins to pay for the print job.

I knew the updated resume would help, but I knew that my lack of direct hospitality experience and my short timeframe (~3 months) were also working against me.

On Friday, I tried a few cafes and successfully dropped resumes at Brunetti and Sea Salt. I happened to catch the manager at Sea Salt -- though he didn’t introduce himself as such, it was clear from his aura. In an efficient one-minute conversation, things started out encouraging but hit a wall as soon as he heard my 3-month timeframe. Again, the interaction was friendly, but the slight change in tone and efficient conclusion was everything I needed to know.
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A welcome break from the job hunting was lunch with Michael, an Australian who worked as a fellow R&D Engineer at Medtronic Santa Rosa. We had never been on the same project, but knew of each other, and he had offered some guidance on my housing search when I first moved to Melbourne. It was fantastic to meet in person, hear about his current job at a neurotech start-up, fill him in on Medtronic news, and generally catch up. The pandemic had cut his time in the US short, and moving back to Australia had been logistically difficult, but he had just bought a house and it seemed like things were back on a normal trajectory. Our lunch spot was Heart Attack and Vine (one of the places I had dropped my resume). The beautiful pattern on my flat white was a subtle reminder of how unqualified a barista I would have been there. The pork sandwich was absolutely delicious, the best meal I’d had in days.

Saturday morning, I slept in and reflected on the job search. While I knew that I was building the right habits – going door to door, using online searches for research, emphasizing experience – I knew it was going to take a while to get my foot in the door. Places just didn’t seem to be desperate for workers. I didn’t see a single “Help Wanted” sign on any of my walking tours. And the longer it took, the more my 3-month timeframe was going to work against me. I started thinking about my goals more broadly – I settled in Melbourne not because I wanted hospitality experience, but because I wanted a home base with interesting things to do and a launching point to see other regions of Australia. While a hospitality job would give me interesting life experience, and extra income to fund my travels, it came with large opportunity costs – the upfront search time, the pressure to stay in Melbourne to pick up shifts, and the general exertion of this challenging line of work. I tallied up my expenses and projected my total costs for staying in Melbourne, and realized that with some belt-tightening, I could manage to stretch my savings and still enjoy the regional travels I had in mind, without relying on the supplemental income.

I decided to put the job search on hold. It was a hard decision to make, but it seemed to better align with my goals. Ironically, now I didn’t have the budget to enjoy the restaurants I had visited on my resume dropping tour. But sometimes that’s how things go.
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Saturday afternoon, I took a tram north to the Merri Creek trail, and worked my way back south. The paved path crossed under several major roads and train lines, so it was a continuous journey but with a mix of terrain. Eventually the creek rejoined the main Yarra River, going through a peaceful slice of wilderness that was only disrupted by the unusual sound of a giant set of windchimes being carried into a meditation park. It was comforting to think that my job hunting decision was going to make this kind of rejuvenating adventure a more regular occurrence.

During my first full week as an official Melbourne resident, I took advantage of discount ticket specials and went to see a number of different plays and art exhibitions. The city’s reputation for the arts certainly lived up to the hype! But first, let’s set the stage.

My new Carlton apartment had a shared kitchen and living room, and I started to meet some of my fellow residents. James was from Hobart and worked at a bike shop. Alex was from France and also on a working holiday. Ruth and Dani were medical students, from Scotland and Spain, respectively. An interesting mix of people, all about my age, on different trajectories.

The kitchen was spacious but pretty bare bones when it came to cookware and utensils. I had successfully made jambalaya for dinner the previous night, but urgently needed kitchen supplies. ​

​As for my room itself, it was simple but had everything I needed. One major perk was a private bathroom. The shower heated quickly and had good water pressure, perfect for a post-run shower. I appreciated having three places to sit – the desk swivel chair, a lounge chair, or the bed itself. The airflow wasn’t great, with just one window that could partially prop open, but the fan helped a bit. My unit was on the second floor, in the back corner facing into the neighborhood, so it was sheltered from street noise and kitchen noise. However, the room caught the afternoon sun and tended to significantly heat up in the late afternoon. I was thankful it was a cooler summer.

​The location was also excellent. It was a short walk to Lygon Street, the heart of Little Italy. And in the other direction, it was a short walk to Brunswick Street in the inviting Fitzroy neighborhood. Each area had a grocery store. At the Coles, I was pleasantly surprised to find fresh pasta for sale by the kilo – presumably part of the Italian influence!

​On Friday night, I went to see a play called Seventeen at the Melbourne Theater Company (MTC). Located in the Arts Precinct, the building’s recognizable façade was a network of PVC pipes.

On the surface, the play was about a group of high schoolers celebrating the last day of school by drinking in the park. But the “twist” was that all the teenagers were played by older adults. It was an interesting concept – encouraging different generations to “see themselves” in each other. The playwright was an Australian named Matthew Whittet, and there were a few Aussie-specific references but overall it was a universal storyline.

A​s the drinking intensified, the characters’ secrets and fears emerged, including a few dealing with abusive families. It was a character-driven play, and the actors successfully created believable friendships and rivalries. MTC billed them as all-star cast, and though I didn't know their reputations, I agreed that it was a very strong and balanced ensemble show. The cast even got to show off their TikTok dance moves, which were part of the partying.

One highlight was the set design, a tanbark playground that slowly rotated 360 degrees at an imperceptibly slow rate over the course of the play. This allowed the play to maintain a sense of spatial continuity while offering the actors a variety of swings, slides, and benches that provided a unique backdrop for each heart-to-heart conversation.
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For $23 USD, the discounted ticket was great value. I even had a good seat just a few rows from the stage. Walking away from the theater, I had to laugh at the timing of seeing a play about underage drinking, as I had just completed my Responsible Service of Alcohol (RSA) online training the night before. I tried to take a tram back to Carlton, but it happened to be the first hour of a multi-week construction project, a project that cut off an entire branch of the tram network. I took the tram as far as I could and walked the rest.

The tram detour threw a monkey wrench in my Saturday morning plan as well. I was heading south to pick up a guitar from Zeah, and normally the 67 tram would take me directly from Carlton to Carnegie. Instead, I had to take a bus downtown and catch the 67 tram from a platform it normally would never visit. But it all worked out!

​Zeah had very kindly arranged for a guitar rental from a former student and had it ready for me to pick up. It was also a nice chance to see her teaching studio, a detached unit behind her house. The studio had all the familiar trappings – hardwood floors, footstools, sheet music, and games. There were even a few pictures of Frank hanging on the wall. It was a nice day and I stayed for a little chat on the patio.

​I wolfed down some leftovers and doubled back to the Arts Precinct to catch my second theater production of the week, called Overflow at the Arts Centre Melbourne (ACM). It was another theater with an easily recognizable building due to the giant skeletal spire on top; it forms part of the Melbourne skyline. Before the show I talked with the friendly lady sitting next to me, also there by herself.

​Overflow was a one-woman show about being transgender, a string of funny and dismaying stories, all of them captivating. The main character (Rosie) was trapped by unseen tormentors in a gritty bathroom, using these monologues and flashbacks to wait out the situation, but becoming increasingly frustrated. The opening monologue about “pre-emptive peeing” (to avoid bathrooms entirely) set the tone perfectly. Another monologue described rallying to protect a woman from a creepy guy – using the bathroom as “HQ” and sending out scouts for anyone who could be a “Matt.” The actress, Janet Anderson, delivered every line perfectly, and the audience was loving it.

The set was a realistic bathroom with two stalls and functioning water – from the sink, leaking overhead pipes, and yes, the toilets. Having real water onstage is messy and not something you see very often, and Overflow was a masterclass in using it for dramatic effect. As Rosie became more frustrated, she intentionally clogged the sink and let it spill over onto the bathroom floor. The sound of running water and the anticipation of the spillage ratcheted up the tension as Rosie continued monologuing. When the tension was too much, Rosie went ballistic and started throwing trash and wet toilet paper onto the walls, kicking up water in the process. It was cathartic and ugly and inspiring and horrifying all at the same time. There was a buffer between the set and the audience, but I suspect a few people got splashed! Thematically, it worked well – Rosie was tired of being seen as a boogeyman and found comfort in doing something that could rightfully be blamed on her.
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Melbourne being an arts city, I ran into more performances on the way out of the theater. Fed Square had a free opera performance in progress, complete with a live orchestra. The crowds were clustered around the umbrellas, each an oasis of shade on this hot afternoon. And in the CBD, I encountered a street violin player using a loop pedal to create some lively modern tracks.

​Since I was in the downtown shopping area, I looked for new running shoes at a few stores, but couldn’t find an exact replacement. I also checked out the Melbourne Lego store – which had a lifesize Lego tram!

​Back in Carlton, I pulled out the guitar for my first practice in ages. It was a good feeling to play my favorite tunes again, though it was strange to use a footstool after so many years with the leg-rest style support. I had all my sheet music downloaded on my computer, so I could easily re-learn pieces.

Sunday was a surprisingly social day. The medical student from Spain, Dani, was having breakfast at the same time and we had a nice conversation. I learned he was from Galicia, also into running, and also staying at the apartment complex until mid-June. He was a pretty experienced traveler, mentioning a trek in Nepal, and wanted to travel as much as he could before settling into his medical career.

It was a hot day, so I went running mid-morning instead of waiting until the afternoon. It was already 85 degrees, and eventually reached around 95. There were lots of cabbage butterflies in the Carlton gardens, and I was thankful for the water fountains.
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An unexpected highlight was having coffee with a friend-of-a-friend, Madoka, who had moved to Melbourne on a working holiday visa about a year and a half ago. It was helpful and reassuring to hear her practical tips on getting a hospitality job and finding meetup groups. Madoka had studied in Ashland, Oregon and worked a corporate job in Tokyo before quitting and heading to Australia. Given these familiar places (and parallel journey to my own) there was plenty to talk about. The café, located in Fitzroy, was also excellent. I had been cutting back on eating out, so having a loaded grain bowl with crispy kale and flavorful dressing was a treat.

In the afternoon, I got an invite from Gail (my Servas host) to see an art exhibition called the LUME. It was a multimedia projection gallery showcasing works from Aboriginal artists, with a special live music performance by Alice Skye. The LUME was located in the Melbourne Convention Center, an enormous and modern complex that felt like an airport terminal.
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The art projection show was excellent, following a rough thematic outline of Land, then Water, then Sky. The floor, walls, and hanging screens were filled with images of each artwork, both zoomed out and zoomed in, often side-by-side with real footage of the landscapes they evoked. Each work was displayed for 20-30 seconds and accompanied by a matching song from an Aboriginal artist. The show lasted about an hour, which gave time to walk around the gallery and see it from different perspectives. There were several wine bars, a mezzanine overlooking the scene, and side galleries with physical paintings. One of these galleries explained that there is no word for “art” in the Aboriginal languages. Their traditional "art" is an expression of connection to the land itself, and not created for aesthetic reasons.

​The musical performance from Alice Skye was relaxing and sincere. Her compositions were slower, melancholy songs accompanied on the piano. At one point she switched to the guitar, but fumbled the chords, and returned to finish the song on the piano. In between, she shared anecdotes about growing up in a remote village and a conference in Canada where she connected with other indigenous people from around the world. Each song had a different artwork projected as the backdrop, which complemented the music wonderfully.

Gail had also invited another former Servas guest, Emilia, who caught up with us at the LUME. Emilia was from France, and was wrapping up a stint in Melbourne. We went to a restaurant on the river for a post-show meal, and after fumbling through the QR code ordering system, had a nice conversation. Emilia was house-sitting and pet-sitting in Australia, and had future gigs lined up in the US, specifically Washington and Oregon. We reflected on the themes of home and connectedness to place, which had featured in the LUME show. She expressed a sense of disconnectedness from France and found the people there challenging to deal with. She often hosted fellow travelers but some of her neighbors didn’t understand the concept of couch-surfing and complained to the landlord. She had encountered similar issues while serving as a house-sitter, when neighbors complained to the house-sitting app, which deleted her account. Though bitter about these incidents, she didn’t seem deterred from the nomad lifestyle.

We shared a few small plates, including mushroom and beef fritters, that hit the spot. After dinner, Gail, Emilia, and I walked along the river to the tram stop, where we headed off in different directions. It was so nice of Gail to bring us together for a memorable evening of art!

Having spoken with 3 different “nomads” over the course of 3 meals – Dani from Spain, Madoka from Japan, and Emilia from France – I couldn’t help but reflect on how different their motivations and methods for traveling were. Whether inspired by optimism, pessimism, or a mix of both, we had all found the courage to leave home and ended up in Melbourne.

If one thing unites nomads, it’s thinking about the next destination. During this stretch, I spent time sorting out flights for two future trips – to Canberra in March, and to the Galapagos in July.
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The fourth and final show of the week was Shakespeare in the Park at the Botanical Gardens. I brought a picnic dinner and arrived early to stake out a spot. It was a surprisingly cold evening, and I needed every layer that I brought. The girl sitting next to me was a student who had just moved from Queensland to Melbourne for an acting program. She worked at a movie theater that had just opened, and she tried to explain a candy called “maltesers” that I had never encountered. 

​The play was a Midsummer Night’s Dream, a perfect choice for this outdoor venue. Although I’d seen it enacted many times, this was the first with cameos from real forest animals like bats and possums! The production pushed the comedy to its limits, with lots of non-Shakespearian jokes and one-liners mixed into the script. There were fun modern touches: exuberant Nick Bottom was hyped up with Red Bull, Lysander and Hermia escaped using a golf cart, and Snug the “Lion” burst through a poster with the MGM logo. I thought the second act was a little overdone, with too much energy for energy’s sake. The costumes and lighting were excellent, with great use of smoke and special effects for the fairy scenes. I particularly liked seeing the tall trees in the background illuminated with vivid colors.

After the show, the theater student and I compared our critiques while walking past the Shrine of Remembrance , impressively illuminated at night.

When I got home and thought back on the week’s memorable characters, both onstage and off, it was like a surreal midsummer night’s dream.

​“If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended, that you have but slumbered here while these visions did appear.”

With the relief of a signed lease, but with the keys still a few days away, I remained a nomad in Melbourne. However, the transition period offered some unique opportunities, and I ran with it.

It took two tram rides to get from South Melbourne to Toorak. With a large suitcase, a backpack, and a few smaller handbags, it was a lot to carry but not unmanageable. The beat-up wheels on the large suitcase no longer rotated smoothly, which kept the bag steady as the tram accelerated.

Out in suburban Toorak, many of the tram stops didn’t have platforms, so I had to keep a close eye on Google Maps in order to get off in the right place. I was surprised that trams were running in the lane closest to the center of the road, instead of the leftmost lane. It meant that passengers getting on/off had to cross an active lane. Over time, I realized that cars in the left lane were actually quite good at stopping behind the tram. But the first time I dismounted with my collection of luggage into the road, it was a leap of faith. The final leg of the journey was a walk through a residential street lined with tall, shady trees – a textbook example of the proverbial leafy suburbs.

In Toorak, I stayed in a private room that I found on AirBNB with a large window providing tons of natural light. It had a shared kitchen that was small but well stocked. One of the hosts, the friendly Gonzalo, pointed out my allocated fridge and pantry space.

​It was still Australia Day, and since I had missed the main festivities while out signing my lease and relocating to Toorak, I headed downtown to see if there were any remnants of the holiday atmosphere. Flinders Station was illuminated with green light, but otherwise I didn’t encounter anything. However, it was the night of the AO men’s semifinal, which was projected on the big screen in Fed Square, so I still found evening entertainment. In the background, the sunset behind the skyline and the awakening of the city lights was simply wonderful. On the screen, scrappy Medvedev was struggling against Alexander Zverev and lost the first two sets. I was surprised that Medvedev had made it so far, after seeing his poor performance at the match I attended. The temperature dropped so I headed back to Toorak, still yet to witness Medvedev actually win a set.

​It was a sunny Saturday morning and followed the tram line east to the Gardiner Creek Trail. There, I found a well-maintained path that hugged the riverbank, with frequent footbridges crossing the reflective brown water. There were lots of bikers, runners, and walkers out enjoying the day. The pathway brushed up against a cricket pitch and a golf course, and even had a net to protect against rogue golf balls. Although it was a suburban path with easy neighborhood access, it still felt like a slice of wilderness. I spotted the flicking tails of the purple swamphens between the gum trees, and a water dragon by the water’s edge. It was my first outdoor run in almost 3 months, and it felt amazing to be back out there. I ran with it, and ended up doing 5 miles.

​The AirBNB wasn’t far away from the lovely Toorak library, which I had discovered on a previous scouting mission. Getting there was a pleasant walk through a maze of peaceful back-alleys. I made progress on the blog, and returned to make spaghetti Bolognese for dinner. I chatted with the other AirBNB host, Valeria, who was originally from Lima, Peru and building confidence in her English. She mentioned that my American accent was easier to understand than the Aussie accent.

​As a part of my Australian immersion, I watched a few episodes of the kid’s show Bluey, which was the #2 most streamed TV show in the world in 2023. It follows a family of Blue Heelers living in Brisbane – the main character, Bluey, is the older daughter. The show had funny plotlines with Aussie tropes, like cricket games and avoiding magpies. Despite being only 7 minutes per episode, the show landed some really great moments. It’s widely celebrated for the way it depicts equal co-parenting, as Mr. Heeler often plays along with Bluey’s games. It also touched on the absence of a father figure (i.e. military or business travel) from a kid-centric worldview. Seeing these modern sensibilities infused into a show, I now completely understand its appeal to a global audience!

​Sunday was a bit of a remix of the previous days. I worked on the blog from a local park, paid another visit to the Toorak library, ate lots of spelt and spaghetti, and finished with another trip to Fed Square to watch the AO men’s final. The turnout was higher than the semifinal, and it was a warmer night, so I stayed for the whole thing. Though I was no fan of Medvedev, I was curious if he would manage to hold on. When the fatigue started to show, it made sense having followed his arduous journey to the final. Over seven matches, Medvedev spent a record 24 hours and 17 minutes on the court – a serious feat. However, the crowd was much more enthusiastic about the young Jannik Sinner, and happily celebrated his victory.

It was finally Monday – my move-in day! Since the apartment complex was run like an AirBNB, the check-in time wasn’t until 4:00pm. I spent the morning video chatting with friends in the US, and then traveled from Toorak to Carlton. I optimistically looked for the keys at 3:45pm – no dice. But as promised, the keys had appeared when I circled back at 4:05pm.

​I took stock of the room, pleasantly surprised to find a fan and laundry basket. Then I picked up a few essential supplies at Wooly’s and gave the place a good cleaning, which it needed in a few spots.

​I had one night of overlap between the Toorak AirBNB and the Carlton apartment, and spent it in Toorak. It happened to be the season premiere of Australian Survivor. The Aussie version is filmed in Samoa and featured a large cast from all over Australia – including places that I now had visited! For example, a salon owner from Bondi and a creative director from the MONA in Tasmania. The theme of the season was Titans (leaders/experts in their field) vs. Rebels (talented folks with unconventional pathways).

The large suitcase made one more journey across Melbourne. I was so close to unpacking it fully, but of course, the universe wanted me to wait just a bit longer. There was a traffic accident and the tram had to reroute. It took an hour to get from Toorak into the CBD, and not even the intended stop. I switched to a different line that brought me to Carlton, and finally arrived on Elgin Street.
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The first order of business was laundry. Although the apartment had a coin washer and dryer, there was a modern laundromat next door that took credit card payments, so I went there. Both the washer and dryer were surprisingly quick, around 30 minutes each, and the powerful machines were the best I’d had in months. I picked up some Vietnamese food for lunch and hung out in the nice waiting area. After months of living out of a suitcase, it was great to actually hang up my clothes! The suitcase was at last banished out of sight under the bed.

​Next on my list was getting a proper haircut. It was my first professional cut since March 2020! While I had built confidence with cutting my own hair over the years, starting this new chapter in Carlton seemed like a good time to mix things up. I found a spot called Buddy’s Barbershop, where a friendly guy named Jan worked his magic with the razor and clippers. Jan was super easy to talk to and had lots of local insights. I left feeling fresh and energized. On the walk back, I stopped for gelato at Pidapipo, a recommendation from Zeah. The classic hazelnut gelato was to die for!

​My apartment was a few blocks away from the Carlton Gardens, and I set out on my first run there. I wasn’t expecting much from a park boxed in by major streets, but it exceeded my expectations! There were wide, paved pathways lined with tall, shady trees that crisscrossed the lawns, offering lots of different route options. Part of the city skyline was visible over the tree line, giving it a slight Central Park feel. In the center were two notable buildings, the Melbourne Museum and the Royal Exhibition Building – the only UNESCO heritage site in the city. In the late afternoon, there were lots of people on picnic blankets, playing basketball and tennis, roller-skating, walking dogs, or taking pictures by the fountain. There were urban birds, like magpies and magpie-larks, and a pond with ducks. The abundance of shade and water fountains made this a great running spot even on a hot Australian summer day. I did a few laps, taking a slightly different route each time, an endlessly customizable autocross course.

I made a simple dinner in the communal kitchen, realizing it wasn’t very well stocked. I was lucky to find a bowl and a fork! Although it was mostly quiet, I met an interesting fellow named Igor who grew up in Moscow, worked a finance job in Auckland, played in a Russian rock cover band, and had just moved to Melbourne. His New Zealand passport took a while to get, but it gave him working rights in Australia. He was about to leave Carlton for one of the outer suburbs, so it was a brief overlap. Still, it was a preview of the interesting people who would be rotating through the building.
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After an action-packed day, I spent my first night in Carlton and had a chill morning. One I regrouped, I had my eye on a park called Yarra Bend, a straight shot to the east. It was a 20 minute bus ride, and the bus was decently crowded at 4:00pm on a Wednesday. I even got to see how a wheelchair user boarded the bus, using a special ramp the driver unfolded.

​As the name implies, Yarra Bend Park encompasses a curvy part of the Yarra River, with trails heading upstream and downstream. I started in the upstream direction, through a section of bush that was surprisingly dense but had nice views of the water. It seemed like the kind of place where I’d encounter an unpleasant creature, so I was relieved to rejoin the main road. The road led to the Bellbird picnic area which had a trailhead for the Flying Fox viewing area, my ultimate goal.

​It was the late afternoon, and I wasn’t sure if the flying foxes (fruit bats) would be visible from the trail. Boy was I wrong! There were thousands of bats, densely packed into the trees on both sides of the river for a long stretch of the trail. Many were immediately above me as I looked in awe. They were surprisingly active – chittering, opening and closing their wings, getting into squabbles, and flying between trees.

​It’s really hard to convey how many bats there were! It was the time of year when the colony was at its peak population, which a signboard estimated to be 50,000 bats. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen that many of a single animal in one place, except maybe the monarch butterflies, but these bats were also large. I’ll have to return at dusk, when they are taking off en masse.

I was not expecting such an incredible wildlife experience on a casual running path. Though I logged around 5 miles, in reality I stopped and stared at the bats for about as long as I was actually running. I’m really surprised these bats aren’t on the Melbourne tourism radar – it was a real highlight!
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Through the ups and downs of the transition period, the stellar runs at Gardiner Creek, the Carlton Gardens, and Yarra Bend were a source of joy. I’m excited for the weeks to come!