Around 2:00, our lovely host Dad drove us to the rail station so we could head into the city.
We caught the train in - which was relatively smooth. The at which stop we were looking to get off was being skipped on that route, so we had to get off a stop early; no problem.
We got off the train into the Southern Cross station; really super cool architecture; as per usual. As soon as we got out of the station and began walking toward Etihad stadium, the rain. started. DUMPING. Seattle dumping. We found our way to the tram station. Right as we got into view, one of the City Circle Trams (free loops around the city) was just leaving, so we had 12 minutes until the next one. We hung out under the tram stop, enjoying the reminiscence of home. The weather slowly cleared, the rain stopped, and you could look up to see the weather that had just passed us, and the current weather with us. See below:
Crazy! Anyway, we hopped on the tram and waited to be brought up to harbour town, where we would be going to the hockey game. We just waited. And then waited more. The sketchy looking tram had broken down, the second we sat on it. haha.
Fortunately, by then, the weather had begun cooperating, and we walked the rest of the way to harbour town in the sunshine. Unfortunately, by the time we got there, it was crapping rain; dumping again. We hunted through the complex until we found some toilets; for which we were grateful. We also found the hockey ice rink where we would be watching the game.
The game was fine; nothing to write home about, other than the really nice bar that is on the second floor of the rink.
Kylen and I spent a lot of time discussing the moral and physiological implications of hockey. Our team was losing. We found it quite interesting, that when we sat in the stands, we didn't have allegiance to either team, and neither of us really knew that much about hockey. However, by the second period, we had chosen a team and were supporting them whole-heartedly, cheering with the fans, groaning at the refs, and wincing when 'our' players were slammed into the transparent walls.
We were constantly marveling at our almost immediate participation in fandom when we previously had no real connection to the teams or the game.
We also questioned....if researchers surveyed the players of various professional supports such as footy, hockey, baseball, football; I wonder if they would find a considerable difference between the testosterone levels of any of the men involved? Especially hockey, when there is such a high expectation of aggression and physical violence. One must ask if there is so much violence because of the testosterone, or if the violence is due to the expectation of it. An interesting thing to ponder:)
After the game ('we' lost 6-2), the Mustang's sponsor is a restaurant called 'the groove train', right across the street at the harbour shopping center offered a 20% discount to fans that came out after the game. We were hungry, and decided to go by.
We beat most of the crowd (leaving when there were about 2:00 minutes left in the last period), so we actually got a seat. However, it was right by the doors. We were both relatively chilly, and so by the door wasn't a great placement, but the second half of the place was reserved by people showing up after the game. Now, not only was the place packed, but we were also right by the bar. When the 'Groove Train' has a huge rush, they split up the waitering; meaning that if you want a drink, you go to the baar to order it. If you want food, you go to the front counter and order it. It turns out that there were a lot of people that wanted drinks. Not the least of them was us! After I waited in line for food, Kylen waited in line for our drinks (Bailey's Hot Chocolate; a delicious way to stay warm from both the heat of the chocolate and the effects of the alcohol:). While the bruschetta pizza appetizers was wonderful, the Bailey's hot chocolate was a HUGE disappointment. Fortunately, we have been taught that tipping in Australia is very, very, very uncommon, unless you're in a very fancy restaurant and you have been given superb service. This was a relief to our wallets. Anyway; a bit of a disappointment, but we survived.
The real debacle of the night occurred on the train ride back out of the city. After dancing our way through the trams and busses and trains, we found our way to our train. All in all, we had a good evening, and the train wasn't crowded, so there was plenty of space. We were chatting idly between the two of us, and these two guys came up in 'Yarra Tram' uniforms. They looked questionable to start with. They approached us, and mumbled at us with strong accents. Here's how the conversation looked:
"Fmmbpbpfmm."
"Sorry?"
"Tickets please."
We hand them our bus passes, they scan them and pass them back.
"Where are you girls from?"
"The U.S."
Grunt. They roll eyes at each other. "On Holiday?"
"No, we're exchange student teachers."
More eye rolling. "Did you not see the sign?" Points to a sign with twelve different 'No blah blah's.
"No, sorry!" We are getting concerned. No idea what we have done wrong.
Walks over to the blue sign. "Usually it's a $200 fine when we find someone putting their feet on the seats. Anywhere in Victoria, you'll be fined $200 for that. Especially on a mucky day like this. Today is your lucky day, though. Don't put your feet up anymore."
Apologetically, "So sorry, we won't, we didn't see the sign."
They walk away as if they have done us a huge favor.
2 minutes after they exit the train, 4 fifteen year olds run back and forth between our car and the next one screaming, and slamming the doors, holding them open and closed. Apparently it was their lucky day too.
We griped about the whole situation for the rest of the trip, but really it was all I could do NOT to put we feet (which were clean anyway) all over the seats. As much as I am grateful to not have been fined $200, I just need to let a little bit out online about the damn transportation system. Douches.
The rest of the night was uneventful, unless you count Kylen and I accidentally dodging our ride home from the train station. Fortunately, he found us eventually:) Thanks for your persistence, Rick! :)
After coming home, we curled up to enjoy some Olympics, as exhausted as we are. Thanks for reading this probable dribble that has spilled from my fingers after a long day of being Melbournian.
Good night all,
Thanks for reading!
-Megan
P.S. After discussing the origin of nicknames for British, New Zealanders, etc. Jo and Rick began explaining to us the history of Australian Rhyming Slang. It's quite interesting and reminds me of jazz speech in the roaring twenties. Here's a LINK to look at:)
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