This post was supposed to feature scanned photographs of our first apartment in Melbourne. I still remember our first night, hopping onto a late plane from Sydney, knowing virtually nothing about the city we were about to live in and knowing virtually no one in it. On arrival, I instructed our taxi driver to a number on LaTrobe Street; however, even under streetlights it was as apparent as soon as he turned on to it that I’d given him the wrong address.
Sorry, no, it’s Lonsdale Street, I said, embarrassed.
Quickly thereafter we were deposited onto the street near a nightclub and we stumbled our way inside the apartment to go to sleep on a dodgy blow-up mattress that was empty by morning and had us on the ground. I rose first, eager to find a famed Melbourne coffee. However, as I stumbled down Hardware Lane, I discovered that on a weekend morning, the cafes were not early to open as I thought. Eventually I found a place, bought a danish as well, and trudged back to the ground floor apartment; our new home.
I’ve walked past this place several times in the years since we moved out (we only lasted there a month), but never really stopped long enough to muster any sentimental feelings. It was only in May this year, when I was at the Emerging Writers’ Festival, did I find myself literally moments away from it, when we went for after-drinks along Little Lonsdale St. There were the double sliding doors into the atrium (that were supposedly always to be locked after-hours, but in the brief time we were there that wasn’t always the case). I stopped in the alleyway and counted windows until I reached the one that looked into our old lounge area. Another window, I couldn’t see as it was around the corner, looked out to the stoop where the beautician students from the college next door would have their smokos and over to the back door and services access to Pugg Mahones, an Irish pub – wonderful little place, but so noisy, and our reason for leaving. So back in May it first struck me that this impressive milestone was approaching, and I didn’t quite know what to do with that information.
Where’s the time gone?
In the beginning part of me hoped – nay, expected – we’d somehow end up back in Sydney. I spent a lot of time in those early years secretly looking up real estate prices in the Blue Mountains – surely that would be a nice place to settle, yes?
This was until Keira was born, and I switched out the lights in my hospital room, and I looked out into the streets and tower lights surrounding me.
I realised I’d been thinking in contrasts; a ‘versus’ mentality between states that wasn’t necessarily fair. We’d come from a city still on a high from its Olympic success to another where our personal successes were yet to be measured and tallied. But now we had a baby I couldn’t help thinking that Melbourne was going to be our home whether we liked it or not. Suddenly, I liked it. A lot.
I spent a lot of time this morning trying to find the particular album they’re in (pink – with lilies on the front – perhaps you know where it is?) but with no luck. So this post isn’t full of scanned photos.
Never mind.
The words are here instead.
Hardware Lane*
*Photo by: avlxyz
