Sweet sorrow

Yes, quite decidedly, leaving the cash card at home would have been a good idea; as would going to Bendigo. In actual fact, naturally, I managed to do neither of those things, choosing instead to repeat the previous weekend's madness at even greater cost, capping off a hysterical 24 hours by leaving my bank card, driver's licence and almost $100 in the back of a cab, skill. Life since has thankfully been a bit quieter and less ruinous; it needed to be.
Two weeks to go before Tassie; Melbourne's now starting to take on the aspect of somewhere about to be departed - that projected nostalgia about a place, the way you imagine remembering it, thinking how you'll describe it to people who haven't been there, the moments and places that seem likeliest to define it for you. A brief selection from my personal list, subject to change and in no particular order: sunrise and sunset; 'Lord of the Fries' hot chip emporium (best chips in Melbourne, tastiest when consumed with cheese and gravy for maximum cardiovascular destruction); karaoke with Korean and Japanese associates; a picnic with a young lady on an autumn afternoon in Fitzroy Gardens; crazy weekends in Revolver; view of the city from the south bank at night; the street mime artist/actor/borderline tw*t responsible for brightening workday mornings by doing something ridiculous outside my office every day; standing at the back of the bar with housemate and chum watching over a sea of heads as The Basics played a great set at The Espy in St Kilda; boxes of goon (cheap liver-killing wine) drunk with Japanese housemate while comparing high and low points of culture. Oh, and a whole bunch of other stuff. New stuff, very soon. Watch this space.

Rinsed

Dearie, dearie me. I seem to remember thinking I was getting the hang of going out and managing to have a decent time without being ridiculous, then this weekend happened. I shudder to think of the beating my wallet took; the sight of my bank balance gives me spasms and chills and I have to go away and pretend I'm Alvin Hall for a bit (a stretch in more ways than one, I realise). If I do end up washing dishes in the next few months I'll know why. Eighteen hours spent in the club from Saturday to Sunday with Kate and Charlie (Revolver, again - last weekend I committed the schoolboy error of getting chucked out for smoking in the lavs, obviously this had to be made up for at the next available opportunity by staying there longer than anyone else, including most of the staff) and a face yesterday apparently resembling something you'd find in a morgue.
Oh well, can't be helped now. At least it was (sort of) memorable. Cousin Kate's off tomorrow for Sydney and, shortly, South America - a final coffee together at lunch today, a glimpse of a red coat retreating in the distance and it's goodbye til Christmas. Happy travels. My own plans haven't changed - waiting at present, slightly nervously, for my passport to be returned from a travel agency in New South Wales with a shiny Vietnamese visa hopefully attached; still should be Tasmania beginning of next month, then probably Adelaide. Oh, and a little trip out to Bendigo this weekend, couple of hours on the train - thought after 6 months that I should possibly see a bit more of Victoria than just the centre of Melbourne. Leaving my cash card at home might be wise.

'Nam baby

So, finally, the decision and the purchase. On Monday 26th November, disaster and Murphy's Law permitting, I shall be touching down in Hanoi, Vietnam. Three and a half weeks later I shall be boarding a plane in Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon); of what I do inbetween, outside of getting from one end of the country to the other, I currently have no clue. I arrive home in time for mincepies on 21st December, just shy of 15 months after leaving the UK.

It's booked and paid for; suffice it to say, I'm a wee bit excited. I'm thinking again of Tasmania as the next destination after Melbourne, going on my own if need be. The cold be buggered; I'll get Mum to send my long-johns (not only comfortable but desperately sexy).

Cousin Kate and mate Charlie are in town, she as radiant as ever, he broke but well and both with some hair-raising tales of Asian exploits. We're going tonight to Revolver so she can check out her own recommendation.

Life has direction again, and is good. Take care.