Day 8: Melbourne, pt. 2
Welcome
Yesterday we finished our two-night residency at Melbourne’s Corner Hotel.
Tristan and I were cruising away from our lodgings in Fitzroy North at around 10:15am yesterday morning. The four cylinders of our KIA Carnival’s 2.2L Smart Stream diesel engine were purring softly as we headed to meet Gabe at his favourite breakfast spot. Fifteen minutes of quiet arterial roads later we were in Thornbury, one of Melbourne’s northern suburbs, where we found a curbside park for our vehicle and headed inside to secure a table. Gabe wandered in a couple of minutes after that, having caught the train down from his place a couple of suburbs north, and we quickly conferred over the menu before a waiter hustled over to take our orders. It didn’t take long for coffees to come out, followed soon after by food and then my hunger was fading as I enjoyed a ricotta hotcake, topped with charred fig, candied pecans, vanilla mascarpone, and fig leaf syrup.
The day was warming up as we departed the brick and wood comforts of the café and said goodbye to Gabe, hopping back into the air-conditioned comfort of our KIA and cruising away for the second time in the morning, this time heading to visit our friend in the western suburb of Ascot Vale. Liz lives in a very comfortable apartment with two cats that we were very excited to meet and when we got there, she served us iced coffee while the cats introduced themselves. At least one of them did. Arnold glared at us from the bed and remained stationary, while Gigi was very brave, greeting us warmly and was happy to display her prowess with hunting tiny fruit flies.
Afterwards we cruised back to the Airbnb, now moving at a slower afternoon tempo with a few more cars out on the road, probably other folks just like us, out seeing the sights and smelling the smells of a Melbourne summer. Jon and Liz were waiting and boarded the Carnival, and we headed straight out for another activity, cruising east this time towards Yarra Bend Park, home to more than 21 of the bends in the Yarra River. It was there that disaster struck, and shortly after that an escape was made from the jaws of disaster. Juices escaped from one of the crevices in Tristan’s pork bánh mì, a snack we had picked up on the way back, and they splashed a foot-long design on the front of his pristine white tshirt – a fine choice of garment to reflect the heat of the day but not one with any stain resistant properties. There was a public bathroom at the entrance to the park so he waved the three of us on and disappeared inside to attempt what would later become a career defining spot clean.
We headed off down a path and very soon ran into the very group of people that we had hoped to run into at this park, a group of musicians from Asheville, North Carolina, members of the band Wednesday that we had seen performing a few nights previously in Brisbane. They were on their way to get refreshments so we joined forces, and headed to the Fairfield Park Boathouse and Tea Gardens, a very large and colonial looking café that sat perched on the riverbank, overlooking one of the bends in the river where a number of row boats were being paddled around with various levels of competency. Everyone ordered cold beverages and we sat around a table, a rainbow of frosted glasses decorating the faded painted surface. Tristan arrived a few minutes later, wearing a large damp patch on his shirt and a satisfied grin – the stain was nowhere to be seen. Public hand soap and water had done the job, yet again. Boints were immediately awarded, an unknown amount that were distributed from the newly implemented Boints Honesty System, and trickled straight into the coffers of Tristan’s boint account.
Everyone drank and conversed and after a while decided that it was time to see the bats. We were led off down a trail and almost immediately crossed one of the more notable bridges in the greater Melbourne area. The Fairfield Pipe Bridge dates back to 1934 and is a continuous truss bridge that carries both fresh water and pedestrian traffic across a 30m wide section of the Yarra River.
The trail became dirt and rock and followed the river as it snaked south on its journey through the park. After fifteen minutes we began to hear them. The distant screeching grew louder and became constant as we approached the area these mega bats had chosen for their afternoon naps. We crested a rise and the trees were suddenly heavily laden with these swaying forms, tiny faces visible beneath their wing-wrapped bodies, swaying in the cool wind. Thousands of these creatures had turned the tall, lean Eucalyptus trees into a cacophonous orchard that dominated the senses. We stood and looked at this marvel, fascinated by the vibrancy of this colony and simultaneously terrified that we would get showered in bat droppings.
Eventually we had to say goodbye both to the bats and to our American friends and we turned around, walking back along the trail and crossing the Fairfield Pipe and Pedestrian Bridge to get back to our car. We headed straight to the venue and arrived just in time for soundcheck, finding Gabe waiting with the sound desk already warmed up. Everything sounded great already so we rehearsed for a while, playing through a few songs that would colour the setlist and distinguish it from the previous evening. Then I went out for dinner with my brother, a Melbourne resident of several years, who I’m proud to say has still managed to hang on to his New Zealand accent.
The show followed the same pattern as the previous evening with Juice Webster opening up the proceedings, playing to a full room of patrons that were excited to be out watching live music. I remembered to film a song this time and it was my favourite from the set, the number they close with every evening.
There was a different lighting engineer for our second show and the stage felt much brighter. The fret markers stood out along the neck of my bass guitar and I played with strength and confidence, enjoying every minute up on stage. Afterwards we caught up with friends who had come along to the show, crew members from tours we were on last year with The National and The Postal Service, fortuitously passing through this part of the world at the same time as us. Then it was time to pack out and we loaded the Hiace with our equipment and headed back home, enjoying the slow-paced drive through quiet Melbourne streets.