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Sweet, Sweet Melbourne
May. 18th, 2009 09:02 pmI'm enjoying my return to Melbourne. This time I'm staying in a doll-sized studio in Albert Park, all varnished wood and stained glass, courtesy of Craigslist. Albert Park is not downtown, but it's a very short tram ride away, and the neighborhood is adorable.
Spent my morning attempting to shop, which was a total wash-out, except for some socks, a book, and some brand previews for future mail ordering. (Petite-sized clothing rant deleted). I attempted to go to the famous/notorious "Job Warehouse" fabric store, which is rumored to hold vintage treasures in its depths, but its overwhelming smell of moldy synthetic fabric defeated me after four minutes. Melbourne, which was so money last time I was here, is also looking less upscale after the recession. Not tatty, exactly, but everything is, rather desperately, on sale.
I did make it to Koko Black for an epicurean chocolate experience, indulging in their scrumptious Belgian Spoil. (No recession there; a full shop the minute they opened at 10 AM.) And last night I went to the famous Jock's Ice Cream around the corner. Their chocolate was good, their blood orange sorbet was in a peculiar flavor zone between "fantastic" and "baby aspirin", and their fresh-fig ripple was much too sweet.
This evening, I went for a long walk down to South Melbourne Beach to walk off the sugar. With the quiet time afterwards, and somewhat free of the past six weeks' distractions and preoccupations, I worked on my novel's rewrite for an hour and a half.
Spent my morning attempting to shop, which was a total wash-out, except for some socks, a book, and some brand previews for future mail ordering. (Petite-sized clothing rant deleted). I attempted to go to the famous/notorious "Job Warehouse" fabric store, which is rumored to hold vintage treasures in its depths, but its overwhelming smell of moldy synthetic fabric defeated me after four minutes. Melbourne, which was so money last time I was here, is also looking less upscale after the recession. Not tatty, exactly, but everything is, rather desperately, on sale.
I did make it to Koko Black for an epicurean chocolate experience, indulging in their scrumptious Belgian Spoil. (No recession there; a full shop the minute they opened at 10 AM.) And last night I went to the famous Jock's Ice Cream around the corner. Their chocolate was good, their blood orange sorbet was in a peculiar flavor zone between "fantastic" and "baby aspirin", and their fresh-fig ripple was much too sweet.
This evening, I went for a long walk down to South Melbourne Beach to walk off the sugar. With the quiet time afterwards, and somewhat free of the past six weeks' distractions and preoccupations, I worked on my novel's rewrite for an hour and a half.
