Buddha’s Hand, Japanese Baths and Jazz

On the second day in Melbourne I was better prepared for the cold. With a new-to-me princess cut coat, I was finally comfortable in the brisk city. The day began with free toast in the hostel, which truly felt like a residence hall. Chris and I ventured out into the city to take in Queen Victoria Market.

At first it seemed underwhelming. We walked into a covered market area reminiscent of St. Lawrence market in Toronto, complete with butchers and cheese vendors that hawked apricots stuffed with marscapone. Then we walked through the double doors.
A near city block was filled with organic produce stalls, one of which featured Buddha’s Hand, a pioneer citrus species.

The market continued to expand as we walked deeper into the labyrinth of food and imports including iPhone cases, knitted toys and matryoshka dolls. We bought mixed nuts and went in search of much needed espresso.

After impromptu Skype calls with our parents on Little Bourke St, Chris and I wandered into Mr Tulk, the cafe adjoined to the State Library of Victoria. We enjoyed the decor, but the close quarters made conversation difficult. We overheard an American boasting about New York and a mother and son discussing medical exam results, which was just slightly awkward.

While we had planned to explore the library, I ended up seated in a lounge area charging my camera battery and reading a zine titled ‘macarons are not macaroons’, which led me to the realization that I’ve been saying it wrong all this time.

We matched on to East Melbourne for lunch at Tiny Cafe and relaxation time at the Japanese Bath House.
Tiny was perhaps the most adorable lunch and espresso joint I’ve had the pleasure of frequenting. The pumpkin, goat cheese and pesto sandwich was groaningly delicious.
It was my first time in a Japanese Bathhouse. Being naked in front of strangers felt uncomfortable at first, but as I took my seated shower and settled into the bath, my nervousness evaporated with the steam.
Refreshed and squeaky clean, Chris and I ventured down two wonderfully eclectic avenues: Gertrude St and Brunswick St. We came to Gertrude in search of Title film, music and book shop, which didn’t disappoint, especially in their film selection.
Shopping on Brunswick was incredibly fruitful and friendly. I met a fellow Canadian at a beautiful
stationary store and a woman who sounded Canadian at Naked for Satan vodka bar. As I was taking photos of the exposed distillery pipes, she mentioned the toilets were an especially good photo op. After sitting down next to each other with our mutual drinks, I leaned over and asked her if I had heard a North American accent. She laughed and sheepishly admitted that she accidentally replies to foreigners in their accents at times. We laughed together; I’ve definitely been guilty of that!
After dining on nachos at Trippy Taco, Chris and I saw Elly Hoyt at Bennetts Lane Jazz Club. She was an endearing performer, singing classic American jazz numbers and her own songs. Our feet tapped and our heads bobbed to the beat as we dreamed of learning to play music ourselves. So marked the halfway point in our whirlwind tour of Melbourne, and what a tour it was.

Eat, walk, repeat

We woke up on Flinders Lane at the Greenhouse Backpacker hostel in Melbourne yesterday morning. On our first day in the city, we followed our noses (read stomachs) through the CBD and into Richmond.

First order of the day was breakfast at Postal Hall, courtesy the Best Breakfast guide from Broadsheet Melbourne. The coffee and cuisine were outstanding, but the best part was the service, which aired on the side of aggressive friendliness. “You can have your eggs any way you like, as long as they’re poached,” the bespectacled cafe man told us.

Fueled, Chris and I embarked on Lonely Planet’s Laneway Labyrinth walking tour. (Genevieve, I thought you would be happy to know that post Shanghai, I’m addicted to walking tours). We stumbled upon a myriad of graffiti, hole in the wall coffee shops, consignment stores, zine libraries and even high end fabric stores.

Chris found a special friend.

I was a token tourist.

I spotted some yarn bombing.

Then it was time to eat more food than humanly possible to consume at Chin Chin. Since it was late in the afternoon, and since their menu looked like a smorgasbord of Asian delight, we opted for the ‘Feed me’ menu. Little did we know that this set menu would include 7 dishes and a serve of 2 desserts. Pictured above is me with the second dish, DIY salad rolls complete with peanut sauce and deep fried tofu, having a jolly time. Thanks very much to Erica for the recommendation.

We skipped dinner and went straight for drinks at Der Raum, another recommendation from Erica. After an hour long evening stroll from the CBD to Richmond, we buzzed into Der Raum, a high concept cocktail lounge with bottles hanging from the roof with bungee cords and board game size tables. They did not disappoint. ‘F*** the subprime’, a blend of caraway, orange, grape and cinnamon was one of my favorite cocktails to date, and it was a lovely last note of our first day in Melbourne.

Farmers and flora

Last weekend was all about plants. On Saturday morning we took in the Mackay Farmer’s market at the race track.

We were delighted to find locally grown bananas and limes. I bought 5 limes for $2 and ended up with 7 since the vendor was both generous and hoping to unload her stock to pack up and enjoy the sunny but refreshingly cool weather. We bought garlic from Eungella and avocados from Walkerston. With the last of our cash, I picked up passion fruit butter, and I must admit, I have yet to try it.

All sorts of people were at the market, which was great to see not only because it supports local growers, but also to witness the existence of diversity in the country city.

Back at home, I spent the afternoon moving our container garden from the back balcony to the front. With the change of season, the afternoon sun is stronger in the north. I planted lettuce, rocket, basil, rosemary and lavender. I must admit, I’m most looking forward to the lavender. A couple days ago at work, I confessed to my colleague that around this time of year at UBC I would ‘harvest’ some of the lavender that grows on campus grounds and hang it to dry in residence. I was caught once, but thankfully it was only a friend and not campus security.

Most of the plants from our first planting back in January are doing well, especially Bernie the heirloom capsicum (pictured). The lemon tree still hasn’t bloomed and aphids ate most of our Black Russian tomatoes, but after some TLC of pruning and fertilizer, I’m hoping for the best.

Every month or so I refresh the flowers in our kitchen green glass ‘vases.’ I walked into the florist that afternoon looking for Gerbera Daisies but came out with Hyacinths. They look and smell gorgeous. It’s a treat to come home everyday to a house that smells deliciously botanical.

A Month Without Meat

It’s funny how my Auntie Sandy knew I was vegetarian before I knew myself.  At couple years ago, she had my Dad and I over for dinner at her beautiful home in Surrey, BC. As we were sitting down to eat another great meal from her table, she said, ‘Here’s the roast….and here’s the chickpea stew for Katie the vegetarian” (or something like that, my memory fails me). I replied, “But I’m not vegetarian, Auntie Sandy,” much to her shock. I’m not sure how it came about, but she had it in her head that I didn’t eat meat.

Now, I should mention that I infrequently ate meat. I was what you would call a ‘weekend and special occasion carnivore.’ While I was in uni, it was cheaper and often faster to eat vegetarian. Plus I’ve never been a very skilled flesh-chef (if you accept the term I created just for this occasion). I often over cooked chicken and over charred beef. What’s more, it was easy to eat vegetarian in Vancouver.  At the  The Naam in Kits, you could fill yourself with tubers, fruits and grains at any time of the day.

Since I graduated last year, meat worked it’s way more and more into my diet. Living in Australia, eating grilled snags (sausages) and beef pies are essentially rites of passage. I wasn’t complaining, but I knew that if I tried hard enough, I could win friends with salad (contrary to what The Simpsons taught me a decade ago).

During the last conference I went to, I had the option to select ‘vegetarian’ as my dining preference. After boldly checking that box, I felt empowered. For ethical, sustainability and health reasons, I’ve had my reservations about meat-eating for years. Now it was time to live-out my values.

So far, being vegetarian feels natural. In terms of getting enough protein, which a caring friend recently inquired about, I eat heaps of beans, eggs, nuts and tofu. I’m a bit concerned about getting enough iron, so my fridge is chock-full of spinach.  I have to admit, I still eat fish. Pacific salmon is one of the great joys of my culinary life and there is a sustainability seafood iPhone app that help me to chose the best options for local fish.

To my fellow vegetarians or vegetable enthusiasts: do you have any survival tips or recipes? Do you reckon I should start taking a multi-vitamin?  If so which one? I spent about 30 minutes at Woolworth’s last weekend reading the labels, trying to figure out if  ‘women’s green ultravite’ was right for me.

I felt like this on my way home

Every week day I cycle to and from work along the Bluewater Trail. These are the sights I see everyday. I watch the flowers and grasses grow, the river rise and recede, the people walking with prams and dogs, the frogs scurrying away, the sun shining and fading.

As soon as I finish work, these creatures in the sidewalk greet me.

This massive patch of bamboo seems like a slice of jungle barely contained.

These grasses sway in the wind like wheat on the prairies.

This is low tide on the estuarine creek that I cross into the truly river-side section of the trail.

Raised pathways run through the wet land beneath the bridge holding the sugar truck.

After the bridge comes the Cathy Freeman (Mackay’s token Olympian) walk.

A future picnic destination on the Pioneer River.

My basket sometimes carries lunches, or work clothes, or flowers.

My favourite little pier.

At the pier I turn left and travel up Bridge Rd, passing the Mackay Base Hospital. It’s usually the 2-hour period when the lorikeets are singing to each other.

When I see this beautiful old Queenslander, I know that home is seconds of coasting away.