Unfinished Melbourne: Day 5

Soundtrack: “My Bag”, Lloyd Cole and the Commotions

There’s always mixed feelings about the last day. The knowing that I’ll be heading back to the 6.30am alarm, getting ready to go to work, the daily commute traffic, the junkie-like fix of the morning coffee, salad for lunch, the daily routine, the torment of only being able to dream of travel to come. Then there’s being home with L, the comfort of familiar surroundings and sleeping in our own bed, getting to know our two new feline overlords, the comforting stability of being home while dreaming of travel to come.

The alarm kicked me out of bed at 6.30am so I’d have time to shower and pack before meeting A for coffee and breakfast. I almost got everything to fit, all that shopping, but a few items were put in a spare shopping bag I was carrying. Checked out of the hotel and headed up to Southern Cross station, fighting through all the commuters, so I could store my case in the lockers there. Then I squeezed myself onto a tram and trundled down to the Bourke St Mall to Union Kiosk. I’ve known A a long long time, back before he became a vegan and coffee snob, but no one’s perfect. He’s always got the lowdown on where to get a good fix, who has the best batch. Union Kiosk’s claim to fame are their vegan toasties/jaffles,

I like vegan food, afterall vegetables when done right are wonderful, mushrooms are frequently delicious, and it’s possible to make beer and chips without animal ingredients — beer generally tastes better without them, with the possible exception of oyster stout (which usually just uses the shells). So if anyone out there is attempting bacon flavoured beer, please stop now. I’ve probably also mentioned that I’m not a fan of vegan-meat substitutes, so I’ll try to avoid “vegan chicken”, “vegan beef”, etc wherever possible. The friendly server recommended a couple of jaffles, one with tofu and pickled eggplant, the other with “buffalo chicken”. I went for the former, while A got the latter. The pickled eggplant was delicious, a wonderful tangy flavour kick. The tofu was just a passenger, along for the ride to give it some bulk, but the eggplant was the star. I also tried the “buffalo chicken” which, while neither tasting like buffalo nor chicken, was pretty good, creamy with a bit of spice.

Next stop was a nearby coffee place for the real fix. After enquiring about the batch, a mix of Guatemalan and somewhere else, they gave us a free sample (first taste is free). It was good, full of the Guatemalan fruit and berry flavour. I also had an espresso made with a different and still delicious house blend.

Caught up and caffeinated, I said farewell to A as he had to do that work thing, and I went off in search of a smallish bag to bring the rest of my swag home. A had suggested there were a few shops in Melbourne Central mall, so I headed there via the soul-trap of the Emporium. Looked at some Fjallraven bags, the current line seems a bit boxy and at those prices I’d expect them to not only be waterproof but bulletproof. Looked in a couple of other outdoorsy shops, but most of the bags were more for taking a Scandinavian hike than carrying some excess shopping home. I settled for a simple satchel-type bag from Uniqlo.

Lunch was a caesar salad from cafe off Flinders Lane, I’d walked past a few times and it seemed popular. The salad was okay, but the croutons were just chewy cubes of stale garlic bread, and while there was a decent amount of bacon, much of it was in the form of a bacon berg in the middle. Having already had 3 coffees, I went for what turned out to be a fairly mild English breakfast tea, as no amount of extra steeping could make it industrial strength. The lunchtime entertainment came from a small group of folks, one dressed as a Santa elf pretending to drink maple syrup from a cup, and several others filming this while blocking the path. I’m sure somewhere this makes sense to someone.

Having a few hours before my flight, my penultimate stop was art, as old pal Inari Kiuru’s first solo exhibition Original Joy was on at a little gallery at the top of Flinders Lane. The gallery itself, funaki, is an experience to get into, as I first had to be buzzed in, then take a very industrial lift to the 3rd floor, and the gallery sits at the end of corridor straight out of a suspense thriller. Inside is a small apartment converted into an art gallery, great for an intimate exhibition such as this one. Inari has crafted some amazing works from found objects, inspired by her Finnish heritage. Many are mostly monochromatic with small elements of colour, featuring intricate textures worth close examination. The highlight was Inari coming into the gallery not long after I arrived, so we had a few minutes of catching up and talking about some of the amazing works. When I mentioned I almost couldn’t resist touching one of the works, a sculpture of sequins and beeswax (because who doesn’t love playing with sequined material) she said the works were designed to be handled so to go right ahead.

The final stop was the obligatory return to Haigh’s, loading up for the folks back home as well as grabbing a handful of individually wrapped hearts for the air crew. A good thing I had the extra bag to carry it all.

I didn’t score any cheap upgrades this time around so instead of heading to the lounge, I headed for Biggie Smalls, the weirdly themed airport eatery. While they may only have enough themed music to last about an hour before it loops, and a theme that has all the hallmarks of an idea that sounded good at the time but couldn’t ever be properly executed, they have comfortable booths and do decent loaded chip bowls. I went for the beef, and got a good serve of crunchy chips, a fair amount of tasty and moist bite sized beef pieces, and lots of spicy cheesey topping.

With Gabi Burton’s novel Sing Me to Sleep as my inflight reading — an impressive fantasy debut full of action, intrigue, magic, and cool outfits (btw don’t believe the ‘romantasy’ tag if that’s stopping you from picking it up), encounters with mythical beasts and dangerous fey — I flew home, chasing the sunset.

So that’s the trip, no drag shows, two alcohol free days, no deep fried cheesecake. Shopping was achieved. Good food was consumed at every turn, but part of me feels I didn’t try enough, I had no pasta, almost no Asian, barely any of the amazing desserts Melbourne has on offer. I feel that I left more unfinished than when I started, but maybe that’s just the now empty suitcase talking.

So just like Sing Me to Sleep, which ends on an obvious hook for a sequel, I’ll finish with this: I currently have no future travel booked.