Week 7 - Melbourne, Australia

 

    If you were to ask me to describe Melbourne I'd say two words: bagels and street art. I did just as much in Melbourne as the other six cities I've been to, but experiences with those two topics were the most memorable. My first day in a brand new country—let alone one I'd spend the next three weeks in—was spent on a street art tour centered around Hosier Lane. (Melbourne's most famous and constantly evolving public art area) I didn't need a tour guide to be drawn into the various works around me. Abstract, realistic, multi-color, some included illusions, or bizarre ways of creation. It was a photographer's dream; no matter what outfit you wore, there was a piece somewhere you could lean up against to make your fit pop. 

    You were drawn in, called to be a part of it, yet were left feeling incapable of understanding the language that was being written on the brick walls—a language spoken only by our tour guide, @barek_art. As I listened he peeled back the various layers of Melbourne's artistic hotspots, pointing out pieces so sacred no artist would dare work over them. Little warzones where individuals tried to stake claim to their own piece of the alleyway. Works so fleeting, that tourists there today might not be able to witness tomorrow.

   The more he explained, the more I realized each artists language is different. He had his own biases: artists he liked and disliked, pieces he'd revel over, and others he'd dismiss. I grew a bit more fluent by the end of the tour, yet I wasn't learning the exact same language Barek spoke. I had my own preferences—pieces I couldn't stop staring at, and others I only glanced at. Wandering Melbourne became one of my favorite pastimes. Walking its streets, I admired what was around me while also trying to decipher the stories written on its walls. 

    While the areas to explore felt endless, I was limited by one thing: the Free-Tram-Zone (FTZ). An area that a brave soul, like myself, would've been willing to venture past if I hadn't lost my Myki card mere hours after being given one by my tour director. Even so, I was content meandering through the confines of the FTZ—especially with a $296 dollar looming over my head if was caught venturing farther. Yet, there wouldn't be much of a story if I hadn't pushed past the boundaries set by Melbourne's Department of Transportation now would there?
   

Alas, I offer up one word...bagels.                                                         

    My day was made when my roommate returned from an early morning adventure with a bag carrying items in equivalent value to the gold, frankincense, and myrrh delivered to Jesus after his birth: three wood-fired bagels, each personally recommended by the bagel connoisseurs handpicked to work at this fine establishment. Each one was cut in half for sharing, and my roommate did just that. I felt honored to partake in his bagel tasting, and after my taste buds ascended to a level beyond human comprehension I knew I had to make the journey myself. 

    Two days later I hoisted my day bag over my shoulder, tightened the strap, and set off on a mission for some good brekkie. The name of my target? Mile End Bagels. It was a 30 minute trek—easily doable after my now month and a half of navigating public transit. Nothing would stand in my way, not even the Free-Tram-Zone. Or least that's what I convinced myself after realizing my stop was four or five outside of the boundary. 

    

     I watched as the stops ticked by on my phone, each one bringing me just a bit closer to happiness. Before I knew it, I was stepping off the tram and stepping into the bagel shop. It was a cozy little place, with a minimalistic and open design. I waddled on over to the counter and placed an order: my roommate's go-to and another from a lucky individual who caught wind of my adventure. After a short wait I was given a bag with contents I'd fight for my life over. Mostly #3's, our favorite bagel by far—with cream cheese, tomato, basil oil, and cracked pepper. 

    

    As I stepped back on the tram I devised a plan for dealing with the mysterious traffic officials approached me. While I like to consider myself athletic, I opted for a different route: bribery. I was carrying a bag worth well over the $296 I'd be asked to cough up if approached. Besides it was the sharing of these bagels that made them so special. I'd offer the tram official a seat next to me, we'd share bite, and I'd hopefully make a new friend. All while having them forget about the crime I was actively committing. But by the time I had this plan all ironed out my tram crossed back into the FTZ and I was home free. 

    

    As I sat with my roommate, enjoying one of the most memorable meals of the trip, I had one more realization: Food tastes just a bit better when you have to commit a misdemeanor to get it.