Aquariums and acrobats

Deciding to break from our usual 10:30am set-off time, we made it to the Aquarium approximately 45 seconds before it opened (but I want in NOW!). After forking over a wad of cash, we wandered into the penguin section. I managed to get off a few photo's before noticing some very large signs frowning upon flash photography - woops. Still, it was great fun to see some flash-blinded penguins staggering down an icy slope.



I think I also offended a large-lipped fish in one tank, as it started baring its teeth after I started giggling like a schoolgirl while taking photo's of it. Joshie very much enjoyed watching some enormous rays scooting above his head in a viewing tunnel. He also had a scuba diver (who had been cleaning the tank) waving at him... he did that coy-wave thing again.


Just try not giggling at this thing.

We farewelled the Aquarium, which I was pleasantly pleased with (yay for pessimism) - and strolled over to South Bank. We met up with the Tylers, who had somehow not had their fill of Team Martin. Together, we imitated sardines (see that Aquarium link I did there) on the good old Tram 35, and lurched our way to Harbourtown, deep in Docklands territory (cue ominous music).

We partook of possibly the slowest fast food ever experienced (Jen later reporting that the manager was curled foetal-position, whimpering her apologies), and then entered Wonderland Fun Park. I was expecting some gap-toothed Carnies, scratching of armpits, along with an aging clown with cirrhosis. Instead, the kids had a blast, and Chiqs even scored free tickets for the lot of us into the Circus. This was really quite well done, although Lily missed out on being a volunteer despite advising earnestly that she was "full of enthusiasm".



Farewelling the Tylers as they clanked off into the east on one of Melbourne's finest, we managed not to get skittled as we crossed into King Street. For dinner, Jen went in search of something that could be brought back to the apartment. She found another place in Hardware Lane (they rock) who served Italian - it was outstanding once again. Josh even sampled some chocolate icecream, although was a tad reluctant to give back the bowl...

Bringing the cute.

Still digesting the previous evenings delicious Thai dinner, along with the bitter aftertaste of Origin - we decided on a trip to the Museum. We made our way down William Street - its face-reddening chill becoming a familiar sensation - and waited for the No. 35, City Circuit tram. Once on board, Joshie decided to woo each new group of passengers that sat down at each successive stop - including an elderly Chinese man, a pair of young girls, as well as a Nordic lass with a bit of a head cold (amongst others). Coy hand-waving and all, we disembarked and made our way to the Museum, stopping to take a ridiculous number of photos of the fountain in Carlton Gardens.



The dinosaur exhibit proved most popular, although Lily quite enjoyed pressing the button that lit up a photo of someones insides in front of random strangers. We partook of some lunch at the Cafe, where we were 'entertained' by a one foot-tall kiddie who insisted on flinging the large glass doors to the bitter cold open at every given opportunity.



After we'd had our fill of education and pram-congested passageways, we made our way back to the tram stop. Several minutes had passed when I suggested we simply make our way along Lonsdale Street to our apartment. By the time we had reached the first intersection, we noted the Number 35 go cruising past. Wails of displeasure abounded from the children (a faint grinding of teeth from Jen), but I think we made good time back to Little Bourke Street.

We braved the elements this evening, and ate dinner out in Hardware Lane (my assumption is that Bunnings would be located in Entree Boulevard). Josh commenced waving and smiling at surrounding patrons and staff alike, although had moments of red-faced, back-arching tanties too. It was a great meal and a lovely evening - Hamish even provided an alfresco Jazz band some impromptu dance moves on our way home, much to the amusement of random diners.

Welcome to the jungle (or Melbourne Zoo at least)

The terms 'rain', 'cold' and 'wind' cropped up in the forecast for each of the next several days. As such, we bit the bullet and braced ourselves for a day out at the Zoo. All cashed up, we awaited Tram 55 - collapsible stroller in tow. To our chagrin, the user-friendly tram did not take notes, eftpos, or anything else used in modern society. We were miraculously able to scrape together sufficient change to appease the ticketing machine, avoiding the hypothetical wrath of the tram conductor. Settling in for the trip, I contemplated the tram driver. It appears to be the perfect gig for bus drivers who are tired of interacting with the public, or steering for that matter.

We exited the tram / slot machine at the appropriate stop, and made our way to the Zoo entrance. There was a clear run to the ticketing booth (surprise), where the lady wore a faintly apologetic expression (a 'you should have been here yesterday - when there was no wind-burn' look).


A card-carrying pessimist - I was pleasantly surprised at just how enjoyable the day turned out to be. There were sufficient wind-breaks and undercover sections to allow a decent viewing of the entire zoo. We were able to get up close and personal with each of the main exhibits.

The Martin children demonstrating a lesser known component of primate grooming.

Had he a more developed cerebal cortex, this tiger would be cursing the inventor of glass panels.

A lovely stand of Kniphofias, oh and some Giraffes and partially-soaked Martin children.

Before leaving later in the day, we stocked up on about 5 kilograms of gold coins. Aboard the good old Tram 55, we watched knowingly as a rookie tourist couple stared disparingly at the ticket machine. "It doesn't take paper?". Jen was able to provide them with the necessary change - seasoned professional.

After returning to our room, we caught on the news that the temperatures were low indeed, and the winds off the Victorian coast were equivalent to a Category 3 cyclone. Nice. Oh, and throw in a small earthquake. Melbourne, you know how to throw out the welcome mat. Funny thing is - we had a blast.

Born on the 4th of July

For Lily's birthday, we decided to treat ourselves to some vanilla pancakes with lemon and sugar for breakfast in our room. When said order arrived tasting less than sugary or of anything vaguely citrus-based, we actually debated whether we lacked the subtlety of pallete to discern the flavours before calling the folk in the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, they'd forgotten to send up the sugar and lemon - which was soon rectified.

We made our way down to South Bank, and the kiddies spied a red ampitheatre of sorts, immediately hurtling towards it - forcing important business-folk types to halt their urgent strides momentarily.


We boarded a very low-lying ferry for our trip to Scienceworks, and set off towards the mouth of the Yarra. While we enacted a game of limbo with some ludicrously low-lying bridges, we again appreciated the icy blasts of subtropical Melbourne.

The ferry deposited us on a jetty in the middle of nowhere - the captain vaguely waving a hand in the general region of Scienceworks, before setting off again on his merry way. We were confronted with what appeared to be an industrial freeway - and made a frantic dash across, complete with stroller. Pre-booking the tickets turned out to be a good option, as the queue for tickets winded around the side of the building and off into the industrial distance.



An overcast day on the first day of the school holidays was clearly the perfect opportunity to experience Scienceworks - giving me the ideal opportunity to work on my aversion to crowds (ie hoardes of screaming kiddies with snotty noses).

One of the exhibits consisted of 'racing' Cathy Freeman - suffice to say the Martin kids did it in style (albeit giving themselves a reasonable head-start).



The trip back to South Bank was made a little more interesting by a group of apparently-parentless children who thought it might be fun to see just how low the bridges across the Yarra were - by sticking their heads up above the top of the ferry. Fortunately, our trip concluded without any psychological scars for passengers or any Coroner's reports needing to be filled out.

We met up with Stu, Pete and their respective families for dinner - forgoing a nearby Nando's to locate a more suitable place to eat. Several blocks (and katabatic wind-blasted cross-streets) later, we decided on.... a Nando's (clearly a much better option). I made what I thought was a reasonable attempt to ask for a high-chair for Joshie. The young lady gave me a look combining confusion, pity and a touch of contempt. She pointed at the stools the rest of us were sitting on, and noted that they were quite high already. Sensing this was not a conversation that was going to have 2 active participants, I retreated.

The meal and conversation was great, and despite dosing all of the kiddies with an insane amount of sugar - the youngsters of the Martin clan are all crashed in their beds.


Joshie the dinosaur.

Virgin trumps Tiger (aka good decision on airline).

We made it to Williamtown Airport in good time, passing the stinky spot on Kooragang Island without aspersions cast in my direction for once (my 'not guilty' plea before we got there may have helped).

Our concern over inflicting other passengers with our children during the flight evaporated when what appeared to be an entire wing of a Juvenile detention centre was trooped by to sit somewhere behind us, once on the plane. The trip down to Melbourne was largely uneventful - once exiting the domestic terminal, I began re-thinking my short-sleeved shirt.

We jumped on the Skybus, which took its moniker seriously - belting along to the City. A very elderly lady took a seat next to Jen and Josh - her enthusiasm over his cuteness paling somewhat after he generously coughed in her direction.

The bus terminal was within a couple of blocks of where we were staying, so we embarked with our luggage in-tow, antarctic winds greeting us at each cross-street. We had to negotiate crowds of folk heading the other way, belatedly realising there was some local event on at Etihad Stadium (AFL I think they call it).


Joshie was pleased to be somewhere that didn't involve a lap or a stroller seat.





I took a peek in the mini-bar, and to my dismay discovered a local beverage.