I’ve finally managed to drag myself away from the new tumble dryer (I got a fucking tumble dryer!!) long enough to upload some photos of the trip back to the mother country. I’ve got hundreds of them. Don’t panic, I’ve culled them back somewhat. I’m reminded of what my dad says whenever someone offers to show him their holiday snaps. He says “great, show me your best five”. And that’s what I will do, at least for the first leg of the holiday.
So. We rolled into Melbourne. Not where I would normally venture on a trip back home, but The Nutbag made it seem like a fucking great idea so although we knew we’d be adding another connection onto a 25hour flight, we said sure, we’re in. There were good times to be had. As predicted though, the shite weather followed me all the way from the UK, so after buying an umbrella, this was what I got to show The Husband of the Victorian capital. At least he wasn’t homesick.
Pretty soon, The Nutbag and her hubs arrived in town. And everything improved, including the weather.
We ate, we drank and we shopped. Well, the girls did. The boys found a
pub man-creche. I had to know what the situation was on uggs these days. Are they still reserved for strict indoor use? No, sadly they are not. (Australia, I weep for you.)The boys were happy though, even though The Husband thought that Aussie pints are a tad on the small side.
All too soon, we had to part ways, but not before one last sherbet in the unending supply of restaurants/bars/pubs that Melbourne has to offer. Like Movida.
And that was a whistle-stop jaunt in Melbourne. I’m genuinely not certain what else there is to do there other than eat, drink and buy umbrellas. Maybe ride a tram and marvel at the outdated mode of transport. Fuck knows. If all else fails, make friends with The Nutbag – I’m certain I spent the whole weekend laughing
at with her.