B-e-a-utiful day in Melbourne today. Perfect weather for a walk to the beach you might think... Yes, but perhaps not the 8 and a half kilometres that we failed to notice lay between us and St Kilda, a suburb in the south east of the city, right on the beach...
Our marathon walk started in Melbourne CBD, where we took a walk through the city's famous laneways, lined with independent coffee shops and bakeries and bars hidden from the wider, more obviously commercial main streets.
Melbourne's quirky, indie personality would not be complete without its graffiti. Hosier Lane is probably the most extensive and consequently most famous site for Melbourne's graffiti artists and we weren't disappointed... Sprawling artwork up buildings, round bins, down little side streets with clever slogans and full of colour.
Then we walk over the road to see Federation Square. I felt a bit deceived, though, because there is no Greek mathematician or geometry whiz that can tell me this place is a square shape. But I didn't feel let down, the whole place was really well done, with fun buildings, outdoor film screens, live music and some weird sculptures thrown in so glad we didn't miss it.
On our way to the city's botanical gardens, we accidentally stumbled across preparations for the Moomba Festival, a waterski competition. The competitors were all practicing doing the slalom up and down the Yarra River - so glad we got to see because the speed and skill were incredible.
The botanical gardens got us back on course and heading in the right direction. Think sprawling lawns, boating lakes, black swans and groups of art students sketching in the sunshine. In the middle of the gardens is the Shrine of Rememberance, another of Melbourne's huge pillared stone structures that keeps making us feel we are actually in Europe somewhere rather than Australia. Without the skyscrapers peeping out in the background, it would be hard to believe we were still in the city. Em was pretty pleased with this photo... Perfectly framed I think you'll agree...
We continue walking south through Melbourne's network of parks and suburban streets until we finally hit the realisation that we are not even half way to St Kilda... Dear God. The realisatIon is made worse by the fact that our 'shortcut' through Albert Park is quickly denied as it's entrances are blocked all down its east side due to the Australian Grand Prix... Not ideal. Especially in flip flops. But we couldn't turn back now. Not with ice cream and lunch on the horizon...
Eventually we reach St Kilda, a sedate seaside front with a long wooden pier stretching out into Port Philip Bay, a flock of yachts and a long stretch of almost empty sand. Throw in beautiful weather, an overpriced panini and an hour long lie in the sun, and you have something close to bliss.
Needless to say we took the tram back into town...
We made dinner in the hostel after deciding our money was much better spent on the wine and sweet things the foodie city has to offer. We returned to the laneways for a much needed glass of red wine (Australian of course) which we found in a kooky, misshaped bar hidden above a coffee shop on Delgraves Street. Our energy renewed, we head out for the second and more important trek of the day, our hunt for pancakes. One hour late (no joke) we have turned our nose up at every bakery and froyo shop in CBD but we finally find the late night Pancake Parlour branch on Bourke Street (or Blood Donors street as both Em and I had stupidly, separately and silently both misunderstood it was called from a collection of VERY confusing signs...).
Oh my god. These are the most amazing pancakes I have ever ever EVER tasted. Em's buttermilk pancakes came smothered in vanilla ice cream, caramelised walnuts, cinnamon, maple syrup and chocolate fudge sauce. Mine came topped with apple cooked in cinnamon, drenched in salted caramel and toasted almonds. Heaven on a plate. Even if we did feel physically sick.
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