Did you have yourself a good weekend? I did. And I suspect so did John although I can't say the same for Melbourne because I suspect the city and its inhabitants somehow weren't quite ready for us when we descended upon it on Friday, with a vengeance.
Our sojourn got off to a high-spirited start, not even the cab ride from Melbourne airport taking us through the depressing suburbs of Coburn and Preston amidst an overcast sky before dumping us forty minutes later at Flinders Lane where the Punt Hill Manhattan Apartments loomed above us could dent our spirits. Our apartment has no views whatsoever so to speak but the layout and size is as the name promises, Manhattan (as in New York, dahlinks) in style and ambience, and really who cares - we dropped our luggage and went in search of tucker.
The (tucker) search was over the moment we stepped onto the pavement, it was dead easy. The whole lane is lined with eateries of every description, and priced to meet all types of budget, reminding me of Paris where narrow lanes often than not harbour hidden gems of eateries. We were spoilt for choice and utterly confused until we saw Terra Rosa. Long story short, we had a most yummy time with Rosa, the place oozed French chinoserie chic although the menu is decidedly Spanish in fare. The place was packed to the rafters but service was smooth and quite prompt and we were soon on our way to do shopping in lieu of dessert. When we arrived at the shopping precinct bordered by Bourke and Swanston streets, there were already multitudes of shoppers and we threw ourselves gleefully into the shopping milieu.
We soon lost each other and agreed through sms text that we will reconvene back at the apartment at four for arvo T, gin optional. We figured that would give us just enough time to chill-out before we meet up with our two Melbournian accomplices at half six for dinner at Bistrot D'orsay and thereafter, crossing Collins Street to Wicked The Broadway Musical at the Regent Theatre.
If you have not seen Wicked, go. It is fun. The musical is set up as a prequel to Wizard of Oz and is based on a book by Gregory Maguire. It opened in 2003 and has played to audiences in New York, London, Tokyo, Stuttgart and now Melbourne. There are rumors it will come to Sydney although my little bird has been mum (so far) so I cannot confirm on it for you here. Like many others I quite enjoyed the production, but I do have one teensy-weensy complaint - there is not one catchy tune that I can bring home with. Remember Over The Rainbow in Wizard of Oz? Nothing like that in Wicked at all, such a pity. And don't worry, I will not be a spoil-sport by revealing the plot here, except to say keep your eyes on the straw-man aka scarecrow although I (still) haven't figure out why he joined Dorothy in Wizard of Oz in his quest for a brain when he was last seen walking into the sunset with . . .
The next day, we went out to lunch at Vialetto in Hardware Lane and I think we behaved ourselves, that is until John laid eyes on a Bill Walls print in a gallery right across Vialetto. Yes, another piece of hand-carry luggage for Sunday's flight home. We went shopping (again), this time for groceries thinking we might do some cooking when we remembered we've been stitched up for dinner at a friend's place in Malvern. Dinner was to start at half six but we didn't get to main course till nine and it was worth it, the home-made wraps and tagine stuff were real delicious. Even the lemon ice-cream was home-made. And there was the booze as well although I have to go on record here to state that I stayed dry, the whole evening. Someone has to get us home, which we did eventually at midnight no less, after abandoning our cab midway having been caught in a long and drawn-out traffic congestion courtesy of the crowd going home from Andre Rieu's gig at the Telstra Dome.
We slept in the next morning. And then have five hours to kill before we board the flight back to Sydney. So, we went down to the Spanish Fair at Johnston Street, which turned out to be a limpid eat-fest, too many food-stalls and not quite enough merchandise stalls to keep us amused. We then decided to walk to Brunswick Street for some high street shopping, albeit mostly of the prodding kind.
If you catch the drift we are somewhat mellow and sluggish at this time, you are not wrong. We were quite subdued and even well-behaved when we made it to the Qantas Club Lounge, which we soon realized we can take one step further into the Business Class Lounge, thanks to John's Platinum QFF status. And what a difference that one step made - the ambience, the decor, the amenities and if I dare say, the nibbles are decidedly better than those in the Qantas Club Lounge.
I can't tell you how contented I was when I laid my head on my pillow last night. Wait a minute, yes I can, and its just one word: HEAVEN.
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