Melbourne, Melbourne, Melbourne...Melbun?

I still feel uncomfortable saying it. The damn R is really harsh coming from my mouth in Australia. So I will have to be content saying the R every second time and Melbun every other… equal opportunity to offend all. And on that note it seems despite my best efforts to travel to a place where I could understand and be understood there are things here that don’t quite translate. Phrases too that while I understand them they clash culturally. For example when I first arrived in Sydney the weather forecast was… fine. Which, I mean, is that a nice way of saying it is kind of crappy outside with a chance of rain? Among others cheers, breakie – breakfast – mozzies – mosquito's – oh also way back when apparently the derogatory term for an American was a Sepo…wait for this. Yank rhymes with septic tank which…obviously is why you would call us Sepo’s. While this is apparently an old term MS and I still get called it enough to make one think contrary. Also the word “Awesome” is thrown around about as much as “rad” was when I was in second grade – which naturally makes me happy –

Anyway Melbourne is a city of culture and cafes, wine and hidden alleys that lead to unbelievable bars and restaurants (so unbelievable in fact I wanted to ask are you really walking me up these creepy dark dank concrete stairs that were behind a black aluminum unmarked door to kill me…only to be taken into a gorgeous open high ceiling ed room with beautifully crafted windows and a view) This is Melbourne although not everything amazing is hidden from plane view; the cafes with endless outdoor seating that far outdoes Paris, the river teaming with crew boats – what are those called anyway – and what may be the highlight of my trip to date, on land anyway, the Melbourne Botanical Gardens.

It’s a city for food and wine. We took a trip to the Yarra Valley which is Melbourne’s wine country. It is stunning and even better the tastings are free. An all night tasting event at one of our hidden bars pours us onto the street at 5:30am and puts us on our ass for half the next day but even that day is spent restfully with a walk and a mildly embarrassing amount of Mexican food to cure our hangover – Please mail me a burrito with lots of hot salsa, my craving isn’t quenched yet and I have a feeling it won’t be for about 8 more months – The races on Tuesday are a world of their own. At 5’-6” (on a good day) catching a glimpse of more than the horses head is tricky but I enjoyed hat scoping more anyway. MS and I of course partook in our own hatage and somehow by the end of the day I almost felt like a normal hat wearer

We rushed frantically to the airport this morning without what felt like a proper goodbye to the city. But something tells me we don’t need to say goodbye because we will find our way back.

See you next time for a little commentary on Australian men and why I think puppies are better than babies.