Scratch Nights in Melbourne
It was about time that I found some performances to watch whilst on my travels, and I was confident that in the vast creative sphere of Melbourne this was bound to be easy. In the past three months I have been yearning it - craving for a night at the theatre - a night that could remind me of home and the past-time I used to love doing so much in London. I began with a google search of shows in Melbourne and looking past your typical ‘West-end’ style musicals my search turned up cold. I then scoured theatre websites, because there are many in this city, yet nothing caught my eye. The price points once again mirrored the city around me and with shows starting at over $30 and in my opinion certainly not being worth it. As the day slipped into early evening I was beginning to lose hope and became increasingly frustrated at my inability of finding some sort of show to see. On a budget, I was in search of something more fringe based and intimate and more importantly cheaper, like the many small shows you can stumble upon in London. I realised that perhaps (most definitely) the luck I’d had back at home was the result of surrounding myself with like-minded people meaning I was never at a loss of shows to see and friends to see them with. Here, on the opposite side of the globe was different. Having trawled through Facebook it was at the final minute that I stumbled upon the Small and Loud Scratch Night, a new night of local works that was being hosted at a pub in the trendy area of Fitzroy. Like all of the London scratch nights with their funny names, Pint-Sized, Itch & Scratch, Etch; it certainly had a fitting name for being the Aussie counterpart. I didn’t have time to think twice and before I knew it I was off to see a night of local script work. Despite the bartender giving me confused looks when I asked for the scratch night, I quickly followed a crowd of arty looking young people into what I could only assume would be the event (naturally I was right). In a small side room we huddled on benches and pillows and formed a small empty space - waiting in anticipation. What came for the next hour and a half were three performances. Of course they were works in progress, not off book, rough around the edges and welcomed into a safe environment. One of the pieces reminded me of a Philip Ridley script, one received howls of laughter yet I barely understood because I didn’t knew anything about Malaysian politics - and the third I have already forgotten, so clearly had a great impact. As I sat through the shows it quickly became clear to me that many of the crowd knew each other, knew the people running the evening and they even knew the actors - I had infiltrated a tight knit group. As I sat in my corner feeling like I’ve broken an entering onto a secret sect, I was aware that they were wondering who the outsider (me) was. On a first name basis, it became evident that this kind of sect acts in a morale boosting way - naturally you are going to get a positive response if your parents and best friends are sat in the front row. It takes guts to arrive at an event like this alone, sit through the entire thing with a lonely pint and even hang around at the end to try and have a discussion with anyone else. I tried to stick around, loitering at the bar and catch the eye of anyone who fancied discussing what they had just seen, yet I wasn’t part of the ‘in’ crowd, I wasn’t anyone of importance, and I certainly wasn’t someone the artsy bunch wanted to speak to. I left a little disheartened but also excited to see what other fringe movements I can find through this - hell, I even have a stage in my own house, maybe it’s about time I started my own.
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Friends?
It has been a difficult month but the outcome has seen a roof over my head, a job, and ultimately the finding of my feet here in Melbourne. Yet there still remains on large factor that every lone traveller will experience when moving to a new city. One of the key factors of any new experience are the memories you create, most of which are ultimately the result of the people you spend that time with. Unlike on the road when you can get used to both alone time and the anticipation of meeting new travellers every day, it is quite vital to form a friendship network in the area you now call home. In many ways this will act as a comfort blanket, giving you someone to talk to, people to do things with and naturally people to take pictures of you for social media purposes. No-one really prepares you for how difficult it will be to start a new life in a new country, especially when it comes to making friends. So how do you do it? How do you create a social circle or find any close friends in a foreign city, especially after leaving the comforts of the hostel lifestyle? I took to Tinder (that’s the dating app mum) . I took to Tinder as a means of connecting with local Australians, meeting new people at bars or simply talking about tips for the city. My approach to using the app was honest and I never concealed the fact that I was a traveller just in search of friends. The dating app became an efficient way to see new parts of the city and explore new bars. And yet, behind every meeting I couldn’t help but sense that the dating connotations of the app tainted the evening and the time consuming art of trawling through profiles made me quickly turn my attention to other methods. Aside from the exhaustion of meeting people through Tinder, what became even more pressing was my desire to hang around with girls. I missed talking about all stuff female and our refusal to shave our legs because we’re technically still travellers (right?) yet there wasn’t really an app available for this .Someone messaged me through facebook with the same dilemma and we agreed to meet up and ultimately force a friendship. I met the girl at the bar, and much like the vibe of a tinder date (without any of those desires) we both judged each other in a number of ways, talked briefly about boys and ultimately realised that we weren’t going to get on. Next was resorting to every possible tenuous link from England that I knew was in Melbourne. With a few facebook messages I had arranged some drinks and reminisced with these friends about home, Manchester and the smug knowledge that we were escaping the English weather. So far this has proved the best way to connect with people, as even though we barely spoke back in England, a bond quickly forms with travellers who are in the same place and have the same links from home. Having now started a job I also have the opportunity to build relationships within the workplace. I couldn’t wait to start yet it quickly dawned on me that in this fast-paced bar environment people didn’t really have time to socialise - plus I was certain that my colleagues weren’t into the same things as I was which posed the largest dilemma. Despite my desperate hunt for friends through social media, dating apps and of course the good old fashioned method of speaking in real life it has dawned on me that this process can’t be rushed - and the scenario can’t be compared to the friends I had in England. A best friend doesn’t grow overnight and although some days I might be bored and alone, patience is the only way forward - friends will form and summer will be amazing - this is yet another hurdle of travelling that everyone eventually does over come. Grounding in Melbourne
Today was the first day that felt real in Melbourne. I opened my eyes, walked over to my wardrobe, chose some clothes, had some breakfast and then went to work. It’s incredible how these simple acts can be enough to make you feel grounded - and happy again. The reason for this grounding, of course, is that I have finally found permanent accommodation after a month of being homeless. Arriving at a familiar looking warehouse, I quickly unpacked what little clothes I had and made myself as comfortable as possible. The turmoil that I faced by constantly wondering where I’d sleep the next evening no longer exists and now my complaints will naturally transfer to talking about how many shifts I have and how I’d rather be on the beach than behind a bar. What has been striking about moving into a new home is how much I have changed since the last time I had permanent residency. Though despite this, I have found comfort in old habits, old friends and resorting back to a routine that I haven’t experienced for a long time. I have finally made it. Although the longing to resort back to travelling and living out of a backpack will surely seep back into my mindset. All I have to do now is to earn enough money to be able to book my next flight ticket before I get too comfortable. The benefits of car ownership
Owning a car is both one of the best and worst features of traveller life in Melbourne. The pros are it can be your temporary residence without the hostel price tag, the most effective mode of transport and cost effective for a working holiday. On the contrary, with a car you will often miss the fascinating beauty that is typically encountered when walking to local places - the intriguing houses, plants and even street art might be missed and the act of catching the tram and its sights are often overlooked. The main benefit of car ownership is that you can quickly escape the city (as intercity trains are impossible here) and without a set of wheels you are to some extent restricted to city life. I had been yearning this escape from Melbourne for a while now. Even though I have barely explored the surface of the city, my experiences in Nepal left me longing for the freedom of the mountains. Luckily I met someone who both owned a car and was keen for an adventure, and so a spontaneous trip to the Dandenong Ranges was agreed upon. Located 35km from Melbourne, an hours drive was all that was required to get to our destination - and although the range only ascends to a height of 600m I was pretty sure I could hike this with my eyes closed, especially after my Himalayan experience. Actually to my discovery, you can drive your car right to the top of the ranges and although this felt like cheating it was equally a blissful scenic drive with the warm spring wind flowing through my hair. I didn’t have to close my eyes and pray for my life on these winding roads, and their sheer drops were nothing in comparison to Pokhara’s coach journeys. Before we knew it we had reached the Sky High View Point, an area that overlooks the entirety of Melbourne and the sea beyond. The view was good but very tourist orientated and full of foreigners taking selfies (nothing new here) and after a quick, wistful look over my new home we continued on our exploration of the mountains. The afternoon spent wandering around the forests of Mountain Ash trees and gazing at unusual Australian wildlife, yet through the unpredictability of Melbourne’s spring weather we found ourselves quickly dashing back to the car to escape the rain - the drive back through rolling valleys and down into the city was beautiful even if a little wet. I am left wondering whether I will ever learn to drive. Unfortunately I missed the boat on learning when I was 17 and now will most likely never have the right amount of time to complete any courses (I urge everyone to pass their test before arriving here). However the benefits of being the non-driver is that you can atleast enjoy a pint or two on your daytime adventures. What is clear aside from my desire to drive, is that after my experiences in the Himalayas I have a new outlook on nature and a new lust for the adventures I can find away from cosmopolitan Melbourne life. Natural Melbourne
It came as quite a surprise that the weather was terrible upon arrival in Melbourne. Instead of palm trees, scorching sun and bikinis I was welcomed to this country with torrential rain and even found myself muttering how I could’ve remained in England had I actually wanted winter. Almost three weeks into my trip I have lost count of how many Melbourne locals have warned me about the ‘four seasons in a day’ weather and choosing the most English of all Australian cities. So, it was your standard, glorious spring Monday morning in Melbourne and I was naturally wearing all the layers I owned and a rain coat I’d last used in the monsoon season in Nepal. By the early afternoon the skies had turned clear blue and my four layers were stuffed over my shoulder when I was invited to watch something unusual in a beautiful creek. I initially thought it was a unique Australian experience to go and witness a ‘Supermoon’ but my excitement was quickly dampened by the knowledge that this was actually a worldwide phenomenon and not something I could gloat about because of my location. This moon was set to be the largest it had been in nearly 70 years and one of the closest points the moon had come towards Earth (356,553km to be precise). Set to be a phenomenal site from around the world, there was a vague idea that a party was occurring in the forest in Melbourne and although it was the first I had heard of the ‘Supermoon’ I naturally leapt at the chance to make friends and see a new part of Melbourne. Located under a cliff in Hewson’s Hollow, we made our way to Merri Creek Labyrinth. The art installation had been created over 10 years ago and stands near a wishing tree in a very magical looking little valley. Around the stone formation, we joined several groups that were sat enjoying trance music and wearing the sort of tie-dye clothes I had donned throughout Asia - the entire scene very much resembled the image you find at any typical music festival with goon, cigarettes and hippy pants. We were stunned by the sky above. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a Supermoon that met our gaze and the sky was thick with dark clouds and occasional drizzle (as the third season of the day kicked in). Yet the super-cloudy sky that obstructed the Supermoon was not a complete let down as instead a vast colony of fruit bats soared overhead. When I mean vast, I genuinely mean thousands upon thousands of bats filled the sky in a way that is completely unimaginable to your typical Brit. Known locally as Flying Foxes, the bat colonies in Melbourne consist of up to 40,000 bats - each of which have a wingspan of 1 meter which darkened the skies above our heads even more. The flight continued for over an hour before the critters finally blended into the night sky and we were once again surrounded by darkness on what, unsurprisingly, was a very cold spring night. As fantastic pictures of the Supermoon from around the world made their way onto social media, it looks like the entirety of Melbourne was let down by a clouded sky, cold weather and stormy seas. For me the evening merely highlighted the wonder of Australian nature and the animals of this country that I want to encounter (and be weary of as many more can kill you here too). I look forward to what part of the world I might find myself in for the next Supermoon in 18 years and what beautiful animals I will have experienced for the first time by then upon my travels. Melbourne is 16,000km from Washington DC - it takes around 20 hours to fly there and we are 16 hours ahead. In some sense Australia is looking at America and the rest of the world from the future, and in light of America’s new political turmoil this will be an interesting one. Despite the distance, America’s politics have still certainly had an effect upon people here. By 7.00pm in Melbourne a crowd had congregated in Hungry Jacks (an Australian version of Burger King) to gaze in complete silence as the American Election plays out on a TV screen. Some were sat gripping their burgers - frozen in shock at what is relaying in front of them - and for those that didn't have time to stop, they glanced up and shook their heads as they briefly contributed to the election conversation.
As the new President was announced there was a mutual shock amongst the people I encountered. Living in London during Brexit felt like the world was ending - and that degree of numbness was heightened even more today. The Election Party that I had been invited to was swiftly cancelled and venturing into a pub in the city centre, you could overhear a sorry looking Australian guy chanting ‘Hilary!’ over and over again. In true Aussie fashion we began drinking - a lot - to drown out the shock of what had just happened. Like with Brexit however my social media was and still is full to the brim with messages of shock and protest. Not forgetting that Melbourne is a city full of backpackers and a number of American ones at that, Facebook is now adorned with American’s statuses crying out for a sponsorship to remain in Australia. I can’t help but partially blame social media for the turmoil this year has brought however. I don’t know what the rest of the Australian public thinks of the vote but I just happen to be friends with like-minded, young creatives that reside in Melbourne. These Facebook friends vote the same way I do, and support the same things I do, meaning it is very easy to forget that there is a completely other side to this argument - where Facebook statuses are filled with hate and support for Trump (those are the kind of people we have the opportunity to unfriend). If I’d seen more of these messages however perhaps I’d have a better awareness of the tensions between these conflicting politics. Perhaps more young people might have voted had they felt the vote was so close, and had their social media not suggested that everyone was wholeheartedly voting the same way. It has been a sad year but with social media arguably being the most important thing for many youths, I wonder whether more could’ve been done this year to stimulate action amongst a generation of apathetic young voters. Nonetheless the American Presidential Election has had an affect upon every corner of the world and shaken even those on a beach in Melbourne. Housing Battles in Brunswick
Finding a room to sublet in Melbourne feels like a cross between a job interview, a first date and a break-up. Having searched every online resource and trawled through countless Facebook groups (Fairy Floss being the best one) I received a message inviting me to view a house yesterday evening. This was one of a long line of viewings but the deal was perfect, $510 a month rent for a large 5 bedroom house with 4 other creatives in Brunswick. I was welcomed into their home with a glass of wine and quickly found the conversation easily flowed as the group of young people looked at me intently. The catch however, was that also in the room was another person here to view it and it was clear that we were subtly being compared - I often eyed my competition as he did with me. We were both desperate and homeless. With 4 flatmates to impress there was increasing pressure to entertain both the entire room, individual flat mates and also keep up with my rivals conversations. It was impossible not to try and quietly out-do the other viewer and there was every intention to make myself sound more fitting without sounding desperate. After a few glasses of wine we then headed out as a group to buy food and to any passer by we ultimately looked like a happy family already living together. Rounding off at the pub and sitting across the table from my rival, the interviewees pitched questions such as what our favourite films are, tastes in music, festivals, books, food and parties. At first I carefully chose my answers - edgy enough to know some independent films - social enough to know the right festivals to go to - but I quickly grew tired of this bullshit. Of course I was myself as much as I could be, but the added pressure of knowing you are being judged on everything you say is difficult to look past. The night ended with an exchange of Facebook adds and the promise I will hear the next day. I left exhausted and overwhelmingly upset. Walking back to my temporary couch I questioned everything I had said and analysed every topic I had mentioned. Wondering whether I should have worn a different outfit, I also began thinking about whether I should send a message - would that be too desperate? By the time I reached ‘home’ the interviewees had told me they went with the other candidate and that we should still hang out and be friends. With an increasingly desperate situation the only option is to jump back onto that Facebook group and start my pitch all over - but I don’t have the energy to spend an entire night being judged again. Melbourne's Best Live Music
It''s a warm Sunday evening in Melbourne's Northside suburb of Brunswick. As Sunday evenings go, they tend to consist of warm dinners, brain numbing TV and the mental preparation for an early Monday morning working start. Not in Melbourne however, and certainly not in the hospitality world. A walk down Brunswick's Sydney Road offers an array of eateries and bars and if you time it right you can find yourself at Bar Oussou for its 5-9pm happy hour. Yet it's not just the happy hour that draws crowds of locals, travellers and people who have just finished their shifts to this very bar. Neatly tucked away near kebab shops and shisha bars, its front window is also deceiving to the depth of the venue and it's cosy beer garden is a nice suprise. Even then, that is not the best part of this unassuming bar. To fully appreciate what Bar Oussou has to offer you need to be there before 7.30pm on a Sunday evening. Picking up a $14 jug of Coopers beer, it is already impossible to find a seat or a space to stand inside at this time. The atmosphere is busy yet the excited crowd eagerly awaits for someone to take to the small corner stage. The Senegambian Jazz Band takes to the space and the crowd goes wild - they haven't even started playing yet. This band consitist of an unlikely group of musicians that come from all over the world and sport a series of familiar instruments yet also some that are completely alien to me. The frontman Amandou Suso is on the Kora (a 21 string harp that originates from Africa) and is supported by guitars, xylophones, drums amongst other instruments. Not only is Suso a talented Kora player, his vocals heighten the ambience of the bar and it isn't long before the crowd is spilling onto the road outside - I didn't see one passer by go past without stopping to join in. What follows is two hours of African inspired jazz music that sends the crowd dancing, celebrating and enjoying the fact most don't have to be in work at 9am the next morning (even if you did this is still the place to be). The set is meant to last 2 hours but with an encouraging crowd the music continues late into the night and has no signs of stopping. The difference with this place is that the crowd is full of locals that make time to be here every Sunday. The positivity that flows from everyone inside (and on the street), the happy hour prices, the excellent music and the weekly crowd where you are bound to recognise someone you danced with the Sunday before is too inviting. I have been in Melbourne for two weeks and have already found myself here for the past two Sunday evenings already bumping into people I recognise and that doesn't look to change anytime soon. The setting of live music is a common feature of Melbourne life, but this band is certainly taking Brunswick by storm - to the sound of the Kora I sit back with my Coopers and feel like summer is finally here. Sleeping Arrangements in Melbourne With hostel prices starting at around $25 a night in Melbourne, not only was it a stark shock to my bank balance in comparison to my Asian experience but also impossible to sustain. Ultimately I was paying for a place to leave my bag as I ventured around the city on the job hunt every day and some nights I didn't even sleep there. Although my 8 bedroom female dorm was comfortable, I had to reach out and meet some locals - enter Couchsurfing. It had been through wishful thinking that I had set up a Couchsurfing account many years ago; when my adventurous teen self had dreamed of travelling the world on sofas. Yet I hadn't used it once. Now it had become time to give the app a try, find some friends and ultimately save myself some money. Like any app that connects you to other people, it is easy enough to browse through a series of pictures, view the room and read references about your host. There were countless hosts in Melbourne who had plenty of positive references and availability for a few nights and I was confident that this would be an easy hunt (many people had told me it was the best way to see a city). I chose to take the personal approach and after reading each profile, I wrote a friendly in-depth message requesting a place to say and explaining my situation. The situation being, I couldn't afford to stay in a hostel and I needed some help for both a place to stay and some city advice if they were willing. I began my applications, looking preferably for young female hosts as it felt safer and spent almost two hours writing around twenty applications. The hours flew by and I eagerly awaited an acceptance yet I heard nothing from any of my hosts. With my hostel time ending the next morning, I wrote a second personal plea and began pasting this to a greater number of hosts (after having read their bios and assuming they fit my criteria). My applications ranged from staying with a families, to a student house to a lone worker with a spare room and yet I was surprised by the negative response I received. A few apologised that they couldn't help and gave me sightseeing tips (much appreciated), others outright declined without an explanation whilst some even took the time to explain that they weren't looking to just be used for a sofa and that is not the ethos of Couchsurfing. Although I did understand that the app was designed to link people who were travellers and looking to make friends, I also wasn't prepared to lie about the fact that my main interest was finding a roof to have over my head - after all it is called Couchsurfing. By the end of the day I felt let down by the traveller society in Melbourne or that maybe I had been doing something wrong (I didn't even have any bohemian looking selfie on my profile). It had been a long and desperate day of Couchsurfing applications and my eyes were hurting from scrolling through so many profiles - and yet I still hadn't found a place to stay. With a hung head I paid for another two nights in my hostel and agreed that Couchsurfing was a fad that simply wasn't working for me and I'd have to find another way. As my two extra nights neared their end however I received one (only one) response from my original Couchsufing campaign, and without even looking at the girl's profile I leapt at the chance to finally sleep in a house that didn't contain a bunkbed and several foreigners. Before I left England a complete stranger looked me in the face and told me, 'whatever you do, trust your gut'. This vital piece of advice has stood by me throughout the trip and also applied to this situation. The ultimate factor of Couchsurfing is such trust, both for the host and the surfer have to believe that it is a safe situation - and my gut was telling me to trust this host. With an address and just a first name, I arrived at an industrial looking street in the cool borough of Brunswick. Instead of houses on this street there were warehouse units and I quickly assumed that I had lugged my backpack through Melbourne city for a wasted reason. Walking up the unit that was meant to be the address, I stuck my head through a corrugated barrier expecting to see nothing, and was instead surprised by the interior. Set up with a stage, the warehouse was actually lined with a number of bedrooms, a communal kitchen and a vast living space in a commun-esque, incredibly artsy house. My host was there waiting with her flatmates. It didn't take long for me to be welcomed into the unlikely setting and the conversation flowed quickly. The 5 bedroom warehouse conversion was rustic, arty and the perfect living space. My host was the same age, a young student who quickly added me on Facebook and offered me some food. After showing me around her beautiful warehouse, she then walked with me around the area - and we got on like a house on fire. It is now 10pm and I am sat on the Couchsurfing couch. In front of me are 5 artsy hubs, music and laughter coming from each of them. A cat loiters around the building and sometimes huddles up to her temporary English tenant. My host is skyping her mum in Lithuania and I have my feet up enjoying a glass of wine with people who I can actually see as becoming friends. Like most of my Melbourne experience, it has been hard work but worth the search to find a temporary place to live. What I can take from this is the knowledge that people are willing to help you out - if you can find them. |
Tamara DavisonNepal, China, Malaysia, Australia, Argentina. Archives
November 2017
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