Hotel room view, through the tram wires. A fine mural, but I couldn't find the shop - no doubt it is now an eatery!
The finest of sights, Carlisle Street, St Kilda. I literally have thousands of similar snaps (the result of three extensive Netherlands tours), but the serene beauty of such cargo, in a cargo bike, in relaxed transit here in Melbourne - wonderful! Three cheers!
More cycling action. Dog on leash (tick), careful creation of cycling infrastructure where it may not readily exist (tick), pink basket (tick), matching bike and sartorial ensemble (tick). You go, girl! Saddle a bit low, but still no danger of catching skirt in spokes! I quite like the 'triangle' between the cyclist, her reflection, and the reflection of another cyclist.
Hotel room fridge (no mini-bar, mind you, not that I'd raid that either). Don't get me started - too late! Who on earth buys these? Idiots who can't work out why they're never able to save money. There is no situation EVER (in this country) that warrants cracking one of these open, and seeing it charged to your account.
If you're in that category...
...STOP! (Hammer time!)
The Coodabeen Champions always enjoyed an incongruous mash-up of services offered. Easy enough to do the tanning session while your clobber is suds-ing away in the front-loader, eh? Usually quite the regional delicacy - I have a snap of a Sewing and Music Centre buried somewhere deep within this very blog.
Local house - but it's the name that amused...
One imagines a blindfolded Big Reveal, perhaps with a dash of 'I bloody told you I'd do it!'. Its home-made qualities, literally slap-dash, with that slight hint of having squandered too much on the early kerning, followed by a scrabble to fit it 'neatly' and still have room for impactful punctuation. Will it ever be upgraded to an elegant plaque? In generations, will a historian believe it was a hyphenated surname?
I need for little more on my observational walks than to periodically ply my cat-whispering skills. Oh, the pleasure of meeting a tactile moggy in the dappled light and covering my black shirt with a tinge of the ginge!
Constant purring and nuzzling...
...but we only just met!
All the benefits, none of the responsibilities. That's how I take my cat-love these days.
I'm no business-head, but this looks like a winner!
"Doctor's orders." A shave? Another beer! Latest hipster trend - lopside-burns / lop-sideburns.
Iconic Luna Park, profiled.
Are kids still gobsmacked to enter through a gob?
I remember the treat of Luna Park's Big Dipper with my sister - as a kid of just the right age. What impressed me only marginally then (but much, much more now!) was that our mother accompanied us on the ride.
In my late teens I accompanied a fine shy young man on a date to Luna Park. I opted for The Scenic Railway, surmising that it must be a little more leisurely than The Big Dipper... if anything, it was worse! Careening around these corners on the edge of the park, more than three storeys high - rails on warped wood held together with rusty bolts.
Thence, to debate about the route overlap between the two - or are they the same thing? I'll never (need to) know!
Judgmental cloud face making me self-conscious.
Sculptural elements of The Scenic Railway.
I wish I had the talent to vandalize this well!
It's abundantly clear - cats can do no wrong in my world!
Lights (cameras, action) at the Palais Theatre.
Sublime St Kilda Beach sunset outside the theatre. It looked a squillion times better 'for real', but perhaps, gentle reader, you can glimpse the shadow beams and bird (centre right).
St Kilda: gentrified and trendified, no doubt - surfeit of eateries, sure - but still with a healthy hint of the peeling paint and sleepiness of the drowsy beachside town that it (possibly never) was.
