A month in the beach suburb of St. Kilda trying to get my life together in between nights out.
After returning from the Great Ocean Road, I had decided to extend my original plans of staying in Melbourne for a few nights to staying indefinitely. Before I moved into the actual city though, I started out in a suburb called St. Kilda, most popular for its beach. As much as I adore Melbourne, by the way, and rate it immeasurably higher than Sydney, the St. Kilda beach is not much compared to the beaches elsewhere in Australia. Not to say that it isn't a decent beach, but it's definitely smaller and more crowded than the ones up north and the water isn't nearly as nice.
The area is great though. It's got palm lined sidewalks, fun backpacker bars, and a theme park, Luna Park, right next to the beach.
Base
I moved into the Base hostel in St. Kilda to start with. Base is like the McDonald's of hostels- you can usually find one in every major area around Oz/NZ and you get about the same thing every time, which is a basic, characterless chain designed solely to churn people in and out to make money. There's no cozy, family-like atmosphere at a Base. This Base happened to be of a slightly higher quality than most, which isn't saying a lot, but the rooms had a little more space and even their own bathrooms. There was also a bar downstairs called the Red Eye which had activities going on almost every night.
Looking back at photos though, it's reminding me a bit of an airport lounge with club lighting.
I wasn't totally starting over when I arrived. One of the guys from my road trip was staying in the same dorm room for the first few days, and I also had four friends from my Surfside hostel in Bondi who were staying at Base as well. Despite being exhausted, I went down to meet them at the bar the first night and ended up dancing for at least an hour totally sober wearing my Tabasco boxer pajamas.
I spent my first few days getting familiarized with the town, hitting the bars, laying on the beach (one day I got a half hour long massage for $5 from a guy who was walking around advertising massages for donations), meeting some awesome new people who would be my future roommates, watching my bank account dwindling down to alarming numbers, and heading to the cake shops on Acland Street every day for breakfast. One night at a bar, an old man in leather who said he was a member of Hell's Angels bought me a shot and drink after he found out I was from the USA and told me if anyone fucks with me to "come tell daddy." That was a highlight.
One of my favorite days was when an Irish band called Hermitage Green checked into my room. There were five of them and they were the nicest, most fun group of guys. They took me out to lunch and then we went to a rooftop bar in the city where they bought me drinks all day since I was absolutely too broke to support myself.
They gave me a copy of their CD, and they put me and my friends on the guest list so I could come see them play a show one night in a suburb called Brunswick (obviously nowhere near as great as Brunswick, Ohio). Well, my Irish roomies were so talented! Three of them sing and play guitar, one plays a banjo and djembe, and another was amazing on drums. I was very impressed, I felt like a proud mother taking photos (except 5-10 years younger than all of them).
Another night, I went to see the penguins who sometimes come to the St. Kilda pier. Big groups of people go down to wait and watch for them. Well, we picked a bad night and waited ages while the sun went down. We finally managed to see one hanging out on the rocks, but it was pretty anticlimactic.
No penguin photos, here's everyone sitting on the pier waiting for nothing.
Despite the fun I was having, I was also getting more and more stressed out over my money situation. It was kind of a buzzkill. I was at the point where I really needed to find a job.
Finding My First Aussie Job
I hate looking for jobs. It's stressful and time-consuming. I believe I switched to a weekly rate at the hostel (it's cheaper than paying day by day), but after continually handing over your card and seeing money just drain out of your bank without anything being put back in, you get a bit panicked. It's hard to even enjoy your time away when you're afraid to spend any money because being broke means having to go home. I've seen plenty of people backpacking who blow through all their money at bars, never see any of the country that they traveled to see, and go home after a month. I didn't want to be one of those people.
I had done some casual browsing online, but I kicked my ass into gear after no jobs magically fell into my lap. So one day I printed 40 resumes and walked down Acland St. handing them out everywhere I could. Almost everywhere. Actually, I get really nervous walking into shops to ask for jobs, so it was lucky one of my new English roommates was with me, because he had to practically shove me into some of the places to apply. In the end, I left off CVs (the more common term for resumes in Australia) at anywhere that told me they were hiring, and it turned out absolutely nothing for me except an extremely creepy text from a guy basically offering me $1000 a week to have sex with him. I had heard stories like this from people who look for jobs on websites like Gumtree, but this was an owner of an actual restaurant that I had walked into. I had never seen the guy but he assured me in his text that he was successful and good-looking. Then when I shot him down he basically told me it wouldn't have been an issue if we'd met at a club, so why not earn the money for it. Ok, dickhead, no wonder you have to pay women to get laid.
I looked at a few different options. One day, I went to an interview and training for door-to-door sales, but I never showed up for the trial. I just can't do that kind of work. I am not a salesperson. Another day, a guy I met at a hostel got me an interview with his manager at a busy restaurant where I waited a half hour for my interview (but at least got a free latte out of it). I never heard back from them but it was a bit far to travel every day anyway. My backup plan was to head to a working hostel in the middle of nowhere where you pay a reasonable weekly accommodation rate and the owners help find you work, usually fruit picking.
Luckily, it never came to that, because one day, I went into the city center to hand out more CVs. I was about to walk straight past one road when the sign "Cajun Kitchen" caught my eye, mostly because I like spicy food and it reminded me of home. I decided to backtrack and drop my CV there in case. The girl who took it said they weren't hiring, but then caught my accent and asked if I was American. She said the owner loved Americans (not something you hear every day), and that I'd probably get an interview.
I did get an interview! The owner was a Swedish woman named Geeti, and she had lived in the States for quite a few years, including in New Orleans, hence the Cajun food shop. I had a trial and got the job. It was only part-time, but I got to stay in my favorite city in the world, earn some money, and work a job that I even sort of enjoyed sometimes.
Home Travellers Motel
One of my friends was staying in a hostel down the road from Base called Home Travellers Motel, and I loved it, so I moved there. (Also, it's not a mistake- Australians spell "travelers" with two Ls.)
I liked the urban look. All the rooms opened out to a big courtyard where everyone hung out during the day down at the picnic tables or sitting up on the balconies. It's so much more communal than Base, and if I remember correctly, cheaper as well. This is actually one of my favorite hostels I have stayed at ever. Not because of the amenities- the kitchen was hot, cramped, and not the cleanest, and the TV room was adjacent to it and just as tiny- but because of the atmosphere.
I spent most nights drinking outside with my old friends or a fun group of new ones that I made, usually still ended up at Base for awhile whether it was to quickly collect on a free bar tab that someone had or to play their bingo or pub quiz, and sometimes ending up near the beach or on a nearby playground in the very late hours of the night with a box of goon.
Base night out
The Superbowl was on during my time there, and I woke up on that Monday morning to go down to the TV room and watch it (the timing of big televised events during daytime hours takes some getting used to in these parts of the world). It was the year that the 49ers played the Ravens, and despite being a Steelers fan myself (and not exactly a real football fan other than that), I got surprisingly into the game. By the time the 49ers were absolutely blowing their major comeback, I was invested enough that I was yelling at the TV, and since I was the only American there, everyone else seemed to be staring at me more than the screen.
Another day I visited the St. Kilda Botanic Gardens.
And another night the whole main street was blocked off for the St. Kilda Festival with concerts, food stalls, and rides.
I also spent my first and only Australia Day (in Australia) in St. Kilda. It falls on January 26 and marks the day that the first fleet of 11 convict ships arrived on the shores of the country (so essentially celebrating that their ancestors got kicked of dreary England and sent to sunny Australia). Mine was spent drinking at Home Travellers after spending some time in the city, then heading to The Esplanade with my friends for my second DJ Yoda concert. As I mentioned before, I saw DJ Yoda at Christmas and loved him. He's awesome, and this set was possibly even better than the first. He pulled out some kickass songs- Surfin’ Bird, Jerk it Out, and John Ryan’s Polka to name a few. Although I didn't get to dance in the rain this time, since it was indoors, he had a giant screen behind the stage with video clips playing to the music.
Australia Day on the goon at Home Travellers with my soon-to-be flatmates.
Overall, I had been in St. Kilda for one very memorable month, but it was time to get out of hostels for a bit and settle in somewhere. Despite loving the backpacker life, it was not helping with saving money, and besides, my job was in the city. But that city is the best city, and having the opportunity to live in it was something I'll never forget. My next entry will basically just be a love letter to Melbourne.