Farewell to Melbourne

​My visit to Australia, seemingly limitless in its runway, finally reached its conclusion on June 15th. In total, I spent 180 days in the country, just under 6 months. So much had happened since I stepped off the plane in Hobart, Tasmania back in December. I had spent 70 days traveling domestically within Australia, or 39% of my visit. The remaining 61% was spent living in Melbourne, the perfect hybrid of local living and city sightseeing. I became quite fond of Melbourne, and greatly benefitted from having an extended time to explore its CBD, suburbs, parks, and events.

While I’m in a retrospective frame of mind, it’s interesting to look back on the cost of the trip. Australia is an expensive country, and staying budget conscious was a recurring theme that shaped the way I lived my life there. Even still, the total cost of the trip was around $26k (USD). The domestic travels cost around $14.5k, which translates to about $208 per day. This includes flights, hostels, food, tours, etc. The stay in Melbourne cost around $11.5k, or about $103 per day. This includes my room rental in Carlton, going to events in the city, groceries, health insurance, souvenirs, etc. The apartment was the largest item, accounting for over 55% of my Melbourne expenses. While I wish I had found a cheaper place (or was able to break my lease early), the apartment was also a huge source of stability and peace of mind.

Before leaving Australia, one of my bucket list items was trying kangaroo meat. It’s considered a game meat, as it’s sourced from wild kangaroos rather than farmed animals. In the country, there are more kangaroos than people, so with some geographic and quota restrictions, it’s considered sustainable. Of course, it’s been a bush food for thousands of years (though some of the traditional cooking methods sounded less than appetizing). There weren’t many restaurants in Melbourne that specialized in native foods, but I read online that kangaroo meat was available from some chain grocery stores. To my surprise, I found a pack of K-ROO brand steaks at my local Woolworth’s.
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I cooked the steaks in a frying pan, following the instructions to sear it for 5 minutes on each side. The initial color was redder than beef, but the final result was very close to beef in both color and texture. The kangaroo was just a fraction chewier and tangier. There were lots of leftovers, which were useful for repurposing in other recipes. My last breakfast in Australia was a kangaroo omelet.

​I had the chance to say farewell to my friends from the furry community at the usual Tuesday night barmeet. I hadn’t seen JC, Sed, and Daniel in a few weeks, and it was good to catch up. Even Reggie made it despite having a long workday. Perhaps I will see them at a convention in the US someday. Since it was my last time at the bar, I made sure to visit the legendary sticker wall in the men’s bathroom. It was a running joke in the group chat, but also a metaphor for the way a tolerant space can foster community.

​Even though I was out of running shape, I made sure to savor a final run around the Carlton Gardens. Over the course of a few months, it had transformed from a summer picnic ground to an autumn wonderland. I’ll miss the relaxed recreation atmosphere of its tai chi groups, rollerbladers, basketball players, and tourist groups. The 96 tram ride past the Royal Exhibition Building was one of my favorite cinematic perspectives of the city.

In anticipation of my brother’s wedding, I went for a professional haircut at Buddy’s Barbershop, the same place I visited when I first moved to Carlton. As before, the stylist Jan was relaxed and engaging. It was a busy day, and while I waited, I overheard another customer venting about their daily struggles to another stylist, who was extremely supportive and validating. I suppose a barbershop visit can be a form of therapy.
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Following the gin tasting at Four Pillars, I was eager to try the whiskey at Starward in Port Melbourne. Gail, who always was up for trying a new local spot, was kind enough to join me. We actually walked to Starward from her house in South Melbourne, as it wasn’t too far away.

The space at Starward was a warehouse with modern trappings, like concrete counters and artsy lighting. It wasn’t very crowded, so we got a prime seat at a booth that was partially closed off by a chain curtain. The tasting flight was pre-empted by a “amuse-bouche” (mouth amuser) of a refreshing spritz. The three whiskeys were all finely crafted. One was aged in wine barrels from Yalumba, a winery I visited in Barossa Valley. Though I must admit, I couldn’t pick up any major differences between the three whiskeys. The cheese plate we ordered was also quite good, as were the whiskey-infused olives. Following the flight, we had some whiskey cocktails including a tasty Negroni and Old Fashioned with wattleseed syrup.

Since we were still a bit hungry, we stopped at a neighborhood pub for an extra bite and drink. The chips and calamari rings were hot and fresh, just what we needed. It was the perfect pub atmosphere, where a stag party ordering shots by the tray was perfectly at home alongside a family with a cute but mischievous dog who visited our table. Over the course of the evening, Gail and I talked about everything from footy to family, work challenges to writing inspiration.
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On June 15th, I had to be out of my apartment by 10:00am. I did a final sweep, said goodbye to the unsightly fish painting that was the only decoration, and locked in the keys. Down in the kitchen, I set my dishes free in the communal cupboard and left the usable ingredients for others to claim. Zachary, my flatmate who lived abroad in Spain, had left a sweet handwritten note on my door in case he missed my departure, but we ended up having the chance to say goodbye in person. Zachary was the only remaining resident that I knew. The old guard had cleared out. Dani the medical student had been gone a few days. Eirik the Finnish student had left a day earlier. Joaquin the Chilean student was leaving at the same time as me.  It felt like the whole apartment, already somewhat devoid of life, was going into full hibernation.

​My flight wasn’t until late at night, so I had a whole day to kill. I had brought my large suitcase to Gail’s the night before, so I just had a backpack of essentials with me on the final day. I decided to work my way down Lygon Street, getting a final taste of Little Italy. I started with coffee at King & Godfree, where I watched the street scene from a cozy counter.

​Next I headed to DOC Espresso for lunch. I convinced Ben to join me there, who was on call for work but hadn’t been summoned to repair any coffee machines yet. We sat on the patio, where a surprising amount of sunshine kept us warm. I had a delicious piece of lasagna. It felt like being at a charming European café. The fellow patrons wore colorful hats and thick rimmed glasses and held purse dogs. One of the head honchos from Ben’s company happened to be sitting nearby, and we exchanged brief introductions. After the meal, I went inside to pay using leftover cash, which was accepted with mild surprise in this contactless payment society. As I already knew, Ben was only going to be staying in Australia a few more months, before moving to Wellington in the new year. We wished each other all the best.

​Continuing down Lygon Street, I spent a little time at the reliable sanctuary of the Kathleen Syme library. Then I headed to Fossey’s Distillery for a mini rum tasting. It included their house Red Gum Rum (aged with red gum wood) and a Queensland rum called Nil Desperandum (“do not despair”) that was very good. The tasting kit included ice, tongs, and a special ginger beer as a mixer. It was a quiet day and the bartender even poured some of their coffee liqueur. I loved the cozy cellar ambience of the tasting room. In three consecutive days, I’d now sampled gin, whiskey, and rum at three different distilleries!

​My next goal was walking through the Botanical Gardens, but the whole thing was closed down for a nighttime light installation. Instead, I sat at my favorite spot on the edge of the Yarra River. The lighting was simply gorgeous – Melbourne was making my last day special. As I sat at a metal picnic table, a group of magpies started hopping towards me. One got uncomfortably close, just a foot from my foot, and staring up at me. Though nervous, I knew that magpies were too smart to attack unprovoked. I moved my foot aside, and the magpie gobbled up a piece of food that was hiding underneath. Phew! It hopped up on the table to hunt for scraps and pose for a photo, its orange eye still a bit menacing. Then, the trio of magpies continued working their way down the path, sweeping for food like an organized search and rescue team.

​I headed the other direction, following the river towards the CBD as the sun set behind the skyline. It was positively pleasant. I found a quiet food court and journalled while sipping on a boba tea. Stores were closing down surprisingly early, and I was lucky to get a discounted tray of Korean chicken before the store shut at 7:30pm. A few minutes later, the food court was flooded with footy fans, decked out in Richmond Tigers or Hawthorn Hawks scarves. A game at the nearby MCG had presumably just ended. The fans were similarly disappointed with the lack of food options and kept walking.

​Soon it was time to end my day. I lingered over the colorful lighting in Southbank and across to Flinders Station. Then I took my last tram ride, to Gail’s to collect my suitcase. Reggie picked me up and drove me to the airport, which was really nice. Unfortunately, they had been in a motorcycle accident earlier the day and seemed a little flustered. If I had known, I would have made other arrangements to spare Reggie the trouble. Still, I was grateful that Gail and Reggie both were a part of my final day. They were my true local hosts, and I’ll miss them tremendously.

​Despite having been to the Melbourne airport on 9 previous occasions, this was my first time seeing the international terminal. My bloated suitcase earned a “HEAVY” tag at the Jetstar counter. Thankfully the wheels I had manually replaced held up. When checking in, the staff had to verify that I had a flight out of New Zealand (I had a one way ticket to Auckland, where I would be switching to another airline).

​The duty free shops were chock-full of Tim Tams, so I picked up one last sleeve to go. There was also a Brunetti outlet with a respectable subset of their desserts. Nothing like the selection at Brunetti Classico in Carlton, but I still indulged in an opera cake and a tiramisu tart. There were only wooden utensils available, which felt like a crime to use on these elevated desserts.

​For once, my plane was taking off east. Since the airport was on the west side of the city, I caught my first and only glimpse of Melbourne from above. It was shrouded in fog, so I was prevented from hunting for familiar landmarks, a bit anticlimactic.

The lead up to my departure had been a slow build, but the physical act of leaving went by in a blink. I had a feeling that I’d be back someday, which made it a little easier to say goodbye.