The tram lurched and took off with a jolt as the four of us clung on for dear life to whatever we could manage to grab onto in the shoulder to shoulder crush of the late afternoon peak hour commute.
It was a rainy cold winter afternoon in downtown Melbourne and business as usual for most of the other commuters. But not for we out-of-towners who had scrambled aboard the tram at the very last minute after chasing it [arms waving] down Swanston Street!
You have to understand the mirth with which some of our southern cousins might view we Queenslanders… to fully appreciate how gallingly colourful we may sometimes seem. They don’t call it the Sunshine State for nothing… and Queenslanders can be annoyingly cheerful at the best of times. Maybe it’s all that sunshine… or maybe it’s just that we stayed out in it way too long. Either way… Melbourne can be cold and dismal even in summertime… but if you hang around here on the street in the middle of winter you might seriously turn to stone… or bronze… or something… ? Well look it does happen [chuckles]
Finally on board… we then attempted to do business with the newly installed ticket machine at the door to the carriage.
After swiping and re-swiping the barcodes on our All Day passes with absolutely no luck at all…I looked around the sea of black coats and bored faces for someone in the know… a conductor maybe?
Nope. Not a chance. The lights were on here but [clearly] no-one was home.
Long dark sullen faces stared empty eyed into nothingness. Hmmm… this was a tough crowd!
Just then the tram lurched forward again and took off down the street like a crazy freight train from hell. Giggles erupted as we struggled to get a foothold and catch hold of one of those silly swinging handles that always seem to be so infuriatingly just out of reach!
You know the ones.
“It doesn’t work… they haven’t hooked ‘em up yet” came a deadpan voice from the deep.
Contact!
At last some good old fashioned person to person human interaction [grin]
The couple seated in front of us had been watching blankly as we struggled with the ticket machine. [You know? We Queenslanders are generally pretty good at swiping barcodes... we do it all the time at the supermarket and occasionally it does actually work!]
Nevertheless it was comforting to know that at least public transport was on a par between the States and that the operational ticket machine [the one that actually worked] was in fact located half way down the fully packed carriage and nigh on impossible to get to. Some things are universally the same wherever you go.
“Gosh.. thanks for that” [I think]… we replied attaching a grateful smile.
The tram lurched forward again as we quick-stepped back and forth [just knew those ballroom dancing lessons would come in handy for something someday] I began to wonder why we hadn’t just taken a taxi… but I guess… where on earth would be the fun in that?
By now the three ringed circus that was “us” had attracted more than it’s fair share of attention on the tram and a lively banter between a whole bunch of newfound friends was now underway on the evening commute.
Suddenly the lights were on and [absolutely] everyone was home! [Which just goes to show that people really do enjoy a good circus]
Before long the conversation turned to a number of things including [which planet did we say we were from again?] and [what on earth were we doing here?] in Melbourne.
Which brings me to Mollie’s Exhibition Opening.
Mollie is a schoolfriend and a hugely successful Ceramic Artist. She works in the finest porcelain and her work is totally awesome. A group of us meet once a month for coffee… and the opportunity to come to Melbourne for Mollie’s Exhibition Opening seemed like a good idea back in the warmth of tropical November. It was high summer… and the thought of wintertime anywhere was pretty appealing! So we booked our flights.
Pan Gallery Melbourne
“Which stop?” came the next question… before a rush of offers from a whole bunch of people to pull the string for us at the appropriate stop. It seemed in that moment that the whole tram had a vested interest in getting these four women to their final destination on time and on task [or maybe by now they just wanted to get us off their tram!]
But the offer to pull the string couldn’t have come at a better time… for although we had managed to get on the thing… none of us had any idea how [or where] to get off it!
Suffice it to say we made it off the tram with comparatively less fuss than when we got on. We did however step down into four lanes of peak hour traffic in the middle of Lygon Street. But that’s another story altogether.
The exhibition was a huge success by the way… with red spots all around. Mollie was pleased. And so were we.
Melbourne is a wonderful city! It is exciting and fun… and more reminiscent of a city in Europe than Australia. I had to remind myself more than a couple of times that I wasn’t sipping coffee in a bistro beside the Seine. Which could perhaps have just been wishful thinking… but… nonetheless [grin]
In the few days we were there we managed to put a rather large dent in an extraordinarily long list of totally interesting things to do… including a visit to the the National Gallery of Victoria… and the Melbourne Museum to see the awe inspiring Titanic Exhibition It was so well done.
It turns out I survived the sinking… [though I did come home with a cold] The Boarding Pass assigned to me was for a mother and her two small children who travelled in Steerage so I was greatly relieved when I managed to find their names on the final list of survivors in the Memorial Gallery. The exercise of assigning names to each visitor to the exhibit really puts a personal slant on the experience… not to mention a vested interest in the outcome. So glad I survived! Somehow kinda knew that I would tho [grin]
Another highlight was a visit with the infamous “Chloe” who now resides in the upstairs Lounge at the Young & Jackson Pub on the corner opposite the clock at Flinders Street Station. We happened by there late one afternoon… just as the sun passed over the yardarm. Perfect timing!
Chloe
Chloe was thought to be too scandalous for public exhibition in the National Gallery when she first arrived in this country in the late 1800s [despite having won the Gold Medal of Honour at the Paris Salon for the artist who brought her to life Jules Joseph Lefebvre] and so after being tossed from pillar to post for a number of years… she was finally relocated to the Pub across the street from the National Gallery in the early 1900s. Personally I think she’s just perfect and can’t imagine how anyone could think ill of her…
Tragically… the real Chloe died soon after this painting was made. It was said that she died for love… and the tragedy could be compared in theatrics and tone to the demise of Modi’s Girl – Modigliani’s wife and muse Jeanne Hebuterne – which is also [of course] another story.
The true beauty of Chloe is that she didn’t really die at all that day. She has lived on in the hearts and minds of everyone who has come to the Young and Jackson to see her there. And I am happy to report that Chloe can still be found [to this day] overseeing the daily doings in the splendorous warmth of the upstairs Lounge. She seems to be happy enough about that… [grin]
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Artwork & Images © 2010 Jean Burman
Artwork & Images © 2010 Jean Burman
