Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label coffee. Show all posts

Sunday, May 10, 2009

voyeur

THEME SONG FOR THE DAY:
  1. "Guaranteed" by Eddie Vedder, from the soundrack "Into the Wild"

ACLAND STREET ROOFTOP

Today I people-watched.

This afternoon the sun broke through they grey of this morning, and so I ventured down to Acland Street in St Kilda, the wonderful little corner of the world that my Dad affectionately calls "The Armpit of the World".

It is such a surreal little stretch of asphalt, the gaping maw of Luna Park welcoming you to an avenue lined with cakeshops and coffeeshops and bookstores and boutiques. Garish characters on rooftops leer at you and wander the street muttering to themselves, while artists and musicians and other denizens of bohemia sit and sip on flat white coffees, passionately discussing existentialism, politics, music and art.

This trip to Melbourne has
so far been a wonderful whirlwind of reunions with family and friends, a blur of lattes and pints of beer and delicious meals shared with warm conversations and catchings-up. I feel like I could quite easily spend the whole of the next 12 months looking up old friends and acquaintances... It would be so easy, and so safe to just stay here...

As I wandered through the streets and gardens today, I observed myself observing others, a surreal feeling of watching a movie that is playing out in real time right before your eyes, except that you are participating, and watching, all at the same time; a lucid dream, except that I am wide-awake...

...a now-familiar feeling has been growing in my belly - it is the feeling that bubbles up to my conscious thought stream and whispers "I am no longer here". I am ready to move on.

Being a happy child surrounded by loving family in Hawaii is a blessing that I shall always treasure - all my childhood memories are full of joy and laughter. You don't truly appreciate the beauty of a place until you leave it.

As little people we all make decisions about ourselves, other people, and the world based upon our experiences, that shape our thinking, and therefore our words, actions, and habbits....and therefore our REALITY.

The
despair, angst and sheer anger that I felt during my teen years served to drive much of the outward material successes I enjoyed in my 20s, though has long since faded. Anger, when focused to a point, can create positive results. The problem is that anger is a poor foundation upon which to build a legacy, and, when suppressed, will explode violently.

This stands in stark contrast to my current experience of Melbourne: peaceful, joyful, and connected. I have made my peace with this city, and with the experiences and emotions of the past.

Today I wandered and watched, enjoying the simplest details - snippets of conversations overheard in the street, the laughs of a young family tending to their plot in the community garden, the cacophony of screeching seagulls and cawing crows bathed in the soft, warm glow of the afternoon sun. The big, cold blue sky stretches far away above me, fading into deep indigos as the quiet drama of another Melbourne sunset slips away on the horizon.



"...A mind full of questions
And a teacher in my Soul
..."

- "Guaranteed", from the soundtrack "Into The Wild"
by Eddie Vedder
-
THE ARMPIT OF LUNA PARK


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Sunday, April 19, 2009

farewell Honolulu, hello Melbourne!

THEME SONGS FOR THE DAY:
  1. Honolulu City Lights - by Keola Beamer. This is a pretty random video, but it was the only recording of the song I could find on YouTube!
  2. The Horses - by Aussie singer Daryl Braithwaite, from the album "Rise"
  3. Back in Black - by rock legends AC/DC, from the album "Back in Black"


SUNSET ON MY LAST EVENING IN HONOLULU;
THE WAIKIKI SKYLINE BIDS ME FAREWELL



The weeks and days counting down to my departure from Honolulu are a blur of laughs, first-time experiences, and happy good-byes. It is surreal how quickly my departure day was upon me, as I boarded the plane it felt like I was watching a movie of myself, you know the one with Jim Carrey where he runs down the jetway yelling, "It's OK, I'm a LIMO DRIVER!!!"

Funny how when you are about to leave a place, all of a sudden you meet the coolest people and start to do all the funnest things you didn't do but wanted to the whole time you were there: paddling on a stand-up board and then a one-man outrigger canoe off Kaimana Beach were firsts on the 3rd-to-last day in the islands [i'm hooked!]. And, I've done more rockclimbing, hiking, camping, motorcycling, volunteering, and just hanging out with loved ones in the last 2 months than I have in the last 12 years of living in Honolulu.

CLOCKWISE, FROM TOP LEFT:
1) SQUALL OFF LAIE POINT
2) BOGGART'S "KRAKATOA STEAMER" WITH POOTIE
3) CAMPING AT "LUANA"
4)
GETTING GROCERIES AT KAENA POINT

Since I pulled an all-nighter to pack 12 years worth of accumulated "stuff" into two oversized suitcases, I slept through the 9-hour flight to Sydney and awoke in a new hemispehere, a new country... the 60-minute connecting flight to Melbourne was over by the time we finished the tiny butter chicken dinner with peas swimming in a tasty curry-like sauce over rice that they served up; QANTAS always did have decent airline food...

...but this was nothing compared to the delicious meal Mum, Dad, Sis and I enjoyed at the Pacific Seafood House, a new contemporary asian restaurant in its new location at the edge of Melbourne's Chinatown. This neighborhood smells just like Honolulu's Chinatown: a mix of five-spice, char-siu, and steamed dumplings on the main streets, with the faint underlying stench of hum-ha, stale beer and urine wafting through
the air from the back alleys. Chinatowns smell the same all over world.

We get home late, and as I walk into the house that my family has lived in for the last 12 years, it feels like I am home. Mum says, "I'm glad you're here," before turning in for the night, and I am fast asleep in the back room soon after.

I wake up to an empty house as everyone has left early to get to work, and Yuki the cat greets me with a loud meow before settling into a chair to wait for a beam of sunlight through the windows she can bask in. She doesn't have to wait long, as I am making my breakfast of crumpets with honey and tea, the autumn sun appears and streams through the windows to both of our delight.

The crisp Melbourne autumn morning is too inviting to stay inside the house, so I take my breakfast and the old naval war novel I am reading [thank you, Hawaii Yacht Club book exchange] and find a warm sunspot in the garden to sit and read in. Mum interrupts [it's "Mum" when I am in Australia, "Mom" when I am in Hawaii] 1 chapter before the thrilling finale of the book - she only has a half day at work and has come home to take me out for a Melbourne latte and lunch.

We go to Batch Espresso in Balaclava, a trendy cafe three stops up on the train line. Young families, artistic types, dapper executives, and orthodox jews in black suits, hats and sporting beards and sideburns bustle about the street here, which is lined with cafes, restaurants, and specialty shops. This kind of vibrant street culture is one of the things I miss most about this place, and is something that Honolulu could certainly learn from. No newbie police officers pouncing on their prey to hand out jaywalking tickets here!

The cafe's menus are cleverly presented in old refurbished hardback novels, with notches in the pages cut out to the places where the menus are hidden - reduce / reuse / recycle at its best in the artistic simplicity of the idea. I order the avocado-feta mash on ciabbata bread [toasted], with a side of bacon [thick, satisfying rashers that are far more decadent than the thin, crispy, burnt stuff Americans are so used to], while Mum goes for the fish special, a pan fried fillet of "roughy" served on a bed of pilaf lentilis with a glass of rose.

I order myself a latte, and soak in the whole scene. There are two ladies seated right next to us, bistro-style so that our elbows are rubbing, talking animatedly about their clients' latest purchases in her boutique, while an artsy lesbian couple sip lazily at their lattes on the sidewalk tables, scratching their dog's belly with their feet. When my drink comes I grin broadly and breathe in the java; there is nothing quite like a Melbourne latte.

It is difficult to describe why a Melbourne latte is so special; perhaps it is the hormone-free milk that is used in every other country in the world except for the united States, or maybe it is simply the sheer volume of espresso that Melbournites consume, forcing barristas everywhere to be on their toes because their discerning audience demands it.

A good Melbourne latte is velvety smooth and doesn't have the bitter bite that many Kona blends do. You could drink three or four of them at one siting and still want more. Think of the creamiest, most expensive, espresso ice cream you've ever had....and imagine that coming out of the espresso machine steamer into your steaming mug...and that is close to what a Melbourne latte is like. Glazers' in Honolulu comes close, but Melbourne still has my vote when it comes to "Best Latte in the World"...

...it is good to be back in my new old home.

THE AUTUMN MELBOURNE SKY...
NOT A CLOUD TO BE SEEN IN ANY DIRECTION...




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