Melbourne,¹ Australia

The Economist listed the place as the most livable city in the world for seven straight years. I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Melbourne has the world's most extensive tram system, as well as commuter rail, regional rail, numerous ferries, and an under-construction subway system. And somehow none of them connect with the Melbourne Airport (MEL). I’m not sure if this is due to the taxi driver union, Uber lobbyists, or just plain apathy. Either way, it leaves only two options for a traveler to reach their hotel in the Central Business District:

1. The Skybus that for $26 USD drops you and your wife off at the Southern Cross railway station, which is located a mile west of your hotel.

2. An Uber that for $36 USD drops you both off in front of your hotel.

Normally, for ecological and economical reasons, I enjoy taking mass transit from the airport, but even I realized the bus option was a non-option. I guess if you're flying solo or a pair of Dutch businessmen, then the bus could make sense, otherwise to even the thriftiest of travelers it's a suicide mission (i.e. my wife would kill me).

When my Uber finally arrived at the hotel at 10:03 pm, it had been over ten hours since we departed Queenstown, NZ. So immediately after check-in, we hit the streets to assuage our hunger.

The streets were bustling like it was Hong Kong, and by that I mean packed with Asian people walking streets with very British-sounding names. It seemed that every restaurant we hit was closing just as we pulled on the front door, so we headed back to the place in the hotel lobby, Heng Thai. I figured it could provide entertaining and authentic Thai food as it had a Thai cover band playing "Get Lucky" and was packed with Asians. The hostess then escorted us through the crowd to a long table occupied by the only other Caucasians in the joint (the "white table").

Ordering required the use of a QR code linked to our table number, which didn't work correctly, so we tried to order directly from the cashier, which didn't work correctly either. Eventually, just before being completely debilitated by pangs of hunger, the manager who had the longest legs (and shortest skirt) I'd ever seen on a Chinese gal, took pity on us and took our order.

When our similarly pigmented neighbors heard we were staying in the hotel directly above the restaurant, they said "Keeping it easy, huh?" to which I replied, "Not that easy.”

The next night, we followed our Thai adventure with a hot pot one directly across the street at Tan Hotpot. Now previously, I wouldn't know a hot pot from a crock pot, but I figured this place did it right, as much like Heng Thai, it was packed with Asian customers, none of whom were speaking English. Also, it appears the hot pot is big with the kids as we were the oldest people in the place by about 30 years.

The place has that classic Chinese architecture that reminds you of that classic Chinese restaurant back in the day: plenty of red and gold appointments, hanging paper lanterns, with Chinese characters everywhere, along with a few Buddha heads, you know the place.

Basically, there is a pot of very hot broth shaped like the yin and yang symbol, allowing one section to be rather unspicy, with the other section rather spicy. You then place various items (dumplings, prawns, conch, etc.) in each section to cook. Then you fish them out and dip them in a dish of spices (garlic, green onion, etc.) you have created by visiting the spice bar (with most of these spices being unheard of). Being a first timer it was all a little overwhelming, but quite tasty (and inexpensive). Note: There may be just a little more to it than what I just described.

Per the recommendation of a subscriber, Cookie was visited the night after that for some small plates, Thai style. As soon as I entered the beautifully crafted and romantically lit first-floor space, I was alarmed as all the patrons and servers were. . . white. Well never mind, everything from the drunken noodles to the Tom Yum Goong soup to the chicken & cashew stir fry was excellent.

After your visit, if I were you I'd take the lift to the eponymous 7th-floor Roof Top Bar for an after-dinner drink and after-dinner photo of downtown Melbourne.

In order to go for the Oriental Superfecta we lunched at Tina’s Noodle Kitchen on Swanston. For $13 USD they delivered some excellent '#101 (Rice Noodle with Chicken Stock Soup in scalding hot cast iron bowl), enough for two. So I can certainly understand why they were the "2015 TimeOut Melbourne Food Awards Best Bang For [sic] Buck."

Then in order to get a little culture we visited the National Gallery of Victoria, popularly known as the NGV. On the first floor, there was a Mark Rothko titled Untitled (Red), that was painted in 1956. It was being reviewed by a bunch of schoolchildren. Their instructor mentioned that a similar Rothko thought to be painted in 1956, was determined to have been a fake after Domenico De Sole, chairman of Sotheby’s auction house, paid $8.3 million for it.

Untitled (Red) - obviously not a fake

She then asked, “If you bought a Rothko for however many millions and subsequently found it to be a fake, how would you feel?”¹ I then volunteered that “It could make you think that modern art is a scam.” It was met with a few laughs and some head nods, which made me feel like I had added to the discussion. That is until a second instructor mentioned to me “This is a school group,” plainly inferring that I needed to, as they say in Australia, "zip it." I guess education down under is similar to the US, as only the educators are allowed to do it.

The NY Times 36 Hours in Melbourne mentioned a visit to the “Queen Vic,” the Queen Victoria Market was in order as it’s 140-year history has earned it a place on Australia’s National Heritage List. It was also mentioned that "The market is packed no matter what time you visit." When I visited it became quite obvious the NY Times didn't visit on a Wednesday . . . when it’s closed.

It wasn’t a total loss as I had a long black and a chocolate chip cookie at Market Lane Coffee, while I watched Mrs. AAR try and play matchmaker with a German and British backpacker. Don’t think it worked, but you never know.

While the market could have been visited the following day, I decided to consider it visited, cross it off the to-do list, and move on to . . .

After visiting Coop’s Shot Tower, closed since 1961 and now enclosed in a shopping mall, I have a much better understanding of how lead shot was made back in the day. I previously would have thought it was formed in some sort of mold, but now after spending thousands of dollars to visit Australia I now know that molten lead was poured through a sieve from the top of a tower, it then cooled as it fell forming perfect spheres before landing in water, cushioning its fall. Ahhhh, the wonder of travel! I did find it fascinating that this process has basically remained unchanged and that mankind has not devised a more efficient or economical way to kill birds or humans.

For much of my stay, I felt a little under the weather which reduced our sightseeing, so in an effort to make up for lost time, we decided to split up. The Missus would take a Great Ocean Road day trip,³ while I stayed in town to . . .

Attend a most memorable Free Walking Tour of the Melbourne Central Business District. The tour, led by Desmond, started at the Victoria State Library, directly in front of a statue of Sir Redmond Barry, a Melbourne jurist and city elder in the latter half of the 19th century. It was there I briefly spoke with Harold, another tour goer about how we each found out about the tour.

Then about 10 minutes later while at the Old Melbourne Goal, we heard about how the notorious outlaw Ned Kelly was condemned to death on 11 November 1880 at the very site. Desmond, standing over us on a park bench, then quoted the words Judge Barry uttered to Kelly that day, using a very loud and bombastic British accent, “May God have mercy on your soul!!” The next thing I heard and saw was Harold hitting the ground like a tree that had just been felled, after which he started shaking. Much like a Baptist preacher’s laying on of hands, it appeared our tour guide’s performance had triggered an epileptic fit. Paramedics were immediately called. The last time I saw Harold, he was conscious and being taken away in an ambulance. He looked to be fully recovered, though the rest of the tour group now seemed a little shaken.

Desmond continued on with the tour and did a fine job, but there was no way he could top that “spiritual” moment, though he did lead us to a roof balcony of Hamer Hall, a “secret spot” for some fine views of downtown Melbourne.

Downtown Melbourne from the roof of Hamer Hall

In response to my question, Desmond mentioned that most quintessential of Australian foods, the meat pie, was normally bought by locals in a grocery store and eaten as fast food. So when the tour was over I was determined to do the same, only when I arrived at Woolworths supermarket, they were out. So instead I bought a "chicken & avocado on mixed grain" sandwich. And then after eating it, much like the Queen Victoria Market, I crossed “meat pie” off the to-do list.

Part of the reason for travel is to try to meet people to get a better understanding of them. Though even the most curious of travelers, of which I am not, can only attain a superficial one. That being said, while enjoying some coffee at Postal Hall, located in a former post office, I met a former American who left home 15 years ago and had no plans to go back, stating "I don’t want to get shot.” A sentiment that is inarguable as it is not infrequent.

Melbourne seems like a really nice place: great food, safe, picturesque, great transit (except for the airport BS), good culture, and economical. What’s not to like?

Next stop: Sydney.

Lodgings

Citadines on Bourke Melbourne ($125 USD) charged me the ubiquitous Australian/New Zealand/Fiji fee for paying with my Visa. I patiently tried to explain to them that they needed to honour the price they quoted on booking.com that did not mention any fees or surcharges, but they were shall we say "confused." I didn’t want to press the issue as I wanted to maintain some goodwill when I tried to extend my stay by one day.

So after I extended it for $104, I asked booking.com to then put the hammer down and get my 1% back, which they did. All in all, the facilities were ok, the location outstanding. It was listed on booking.com at 8.3, but I’d only give it a 7.8.

Endnotes: I wanted to provide some very specific details that while vaguely interesting did not contribute to the overall narrative. Perhaps just wait until the end to enjoy.

¹ The city that invented Australian rules football is pronounced "Mel·bun."

² Time Magazine did a short article about the imbroglio, that included a photo of the piece in question and mentioned "What are poor, insanely rich art collectors to do? . . . a different solution: buy only directly from artists." I'm thinkin' that another solution would be to make acquisitions based on the quality of the art, not the name of the artist.

³ The Great Ocean Road day trip was excellent.