Last Days in Melbourne

Day 4 Melbourne

Woke up late and had coffee and breakfast.  A few bongrips, then I was on my way downtown.  I stopped by an Internet cafe for an hour to update my blog, then went back to the National Gallery of Victoria to check out more art.

The impressionist paintings were phenomenal, and a good amount of abstract expressionism.  Glad to see some old favourotes:


rothko


picasso


matisse


monet


cezanne


Magritte - one of my absolute favourites.

I was quite taken by the furniture design exhibit and the contemporary art section had a great series by Damien Hirst.


fancy ass cradle.


Hirst


Warhol

Oceanic art blew me away, the collection from Paupa New Guinea and New Zealand was amazing.  The gallery closed and I stopped by "Lord of the Fries" for a box of chips.  


oceanic masks.



Jumped a tram down to Barricade Books for the vegan cake competition, had a rainbow love themed cake and a pirates revenge sea shepherd themed one, both were good, unfortunately I was too late to try the cake that had won the coveted 'most scrumptious' catergory.  I hungout and chatted with Melbournes radicals until the shop closed, then headed back to the squat.

Everyone at the house was pregaming for going out to a party that night.  I joined in for some beers then we mounted bikes and took off into the chilly winter night. 

A couple mile ride, me on a wobbly Frankenstein-bike, and a stop at the bottle shop before we got to the party.  I walked in first, as the unknown American guy, demanding; "I'm here to drink your booze!". I was greeted with confused looks and a few chuckles.

My friends came in behind and reassured eveyone: "this is Fritz, he's a good cunt".  I was called a 'good cunt' more in that one night than I have been in my whole life up till then combined. Its a term of endearment here.

The party was crowded with people who had been at the cake compititon.   We drank hard, listened to punk rock and woody guthrie, and laughed the night away.  I ran out of beer and started hitting the cask wine (known by the kids here as 'goon' - not space bags). 

Around 5 in the morning, two kiwis I was staying with got in a bit of a scuffle with two other people at the party and were told to leave.  I joined them and made the cold ride back to the squat. We bullshitted around the living room for a bit before passing out on the floor. 

A few hours of sleep and I woke up sore and haggard - the goon had gotten the better of me.  The Sydney crew piled in the car and hit the road for the 10 hour drive north.