Melbourne I--Another Portland

Michael told us Melbourne ("Melbun") is a cool place, full of art, historic buildings, and great restaurants .  "It's the cultural capital of Australia," he said.  As Dave and I wandered by the river and through the parks of Melbourne, the city reminded us of Portland, USA--green, artsy, progressive. 

Dave scored a jackpot on the Vibe Savoy Hotel.  It was downtown, right next to the South Australia bus and train station, where we caught our rides to and from the airport.  It was in a charming old building, with a marble lobby and fluffy white duvets on the beds.

We walked nine miles on each of the three days we spent in Melbourne.  The first morning, as we searched for a camera shop, we discovered our favorite breakfast place, to which we returned again and again.  It was a smoothies shop decorated with fresh oranges and serving date shakes (our favorite) and "the best smoothies in the world" (our runner-up).

 

 

We hopped on the free tourist shuttle for a ninety minute tour of the city, from the Olympic Site for 1956 and the "footie" fields, to Chinatown and the Melbourne Museum.

The Melbourne Museum is the largest museum in the Southern Hemisphere, and we spent several hours exploring its wonders.

 

 

There was an excellent traveling exhibit on Mesopotamia from the British Museum. I was fascinated with the Assyrian low relief sculptures and such artifacts as a gold drinking cup with a very low spout.

 

 

Dave was less interested, the morning after a 20-hour plane flight.

There was an aboriginal section to the Museum, with pictures and stories of modern day and historical aborigines.  There were aboriginal shields and a bark boat, with stories of their creators.

 

 

 

 

We also enjoyed "The Melbourne Story" exhibit, with displays about Melbourne as an 1860s gold rush city, and now as a transportation and banking hub.

 

In the Museum gift shop, Dave bought a boomerang and I lined up the Museum's choice of stuffed animals--a platypus, koala, Tasmanian devil, and kangaroo.

 

 

We hiked back downtown through one of Melbourne's many parks.

 

Many alleys in Melbourne are covered in street art, which is prized as a distinctive feature of the city.

 

While we waited for our dinner reservation, Dave and I visited the Leo Potter Centre, with its great selection of aboriginal paintings.   

 

 

 

We ate at Movida, Lonely Planet's top-ranked pick.  I thought the food was fabulous, but Dave described our shared entree as "one bite of fish and fifteen noodles."  He stopped for fast food afterwards.

 

 

One of the highlights of Melbourne is its beautiful Victorian buildings, sometimes contrasted with their modern counterparts.  We enjoyed a few as we walked around Melbourne.

 

 

 

 

 



Strut Your Mutt

I love dogs--to look at.  After years of sweet Clifford trampling my flowers and defecating on the back lawn, I don't want to raise another dog.   I am charmed, though, by fuzzy terriers, overweight bulldogs, and especially by mutts so indeterminate that they need their DNA tested to figure out their breed. 

"Strut Your Mutt" is Salt Lake City's answer to dog owners' pride, dog lovers' cravings, and the curiosity of those who want to see the winner of the "biggest dog head" contest. 

 

 

By 8 a.m. on September 22, 2012, dogs and their owners converged on Liberty Park from all directions. 

 

 

 

The canine corsage posters were up.  The Belly Rub Hub was ready.  The Humane Society had dogs to distribute to anyone who didn't have one.

 

 

Some dogs were dressed in sweaters and tutus.

 

Some dogs were in tight embraces with their owners.

 

 

 

 

Some dogs were practicing for the "kiss your dog" contest.

Some dogs were gorgeous, unadorned.

 

 

 

And some dogs supported their candidates.

Snowbird

We bought our Iron Blosam timeshare week when Jonny and Michael were little boys.  One year, we traded a St. George week for an Iron Blosam condo right above the swimming pool.  The boys ran down the one flight of stairs in their swimsuits again and again, leaping into the pool and soaking in the hot tub.  I sat on the balcony watching Dave and the boys paddling about, with the massive granite cliffs behind them.  It was magical.  Somehow, we thought time would just stop, each fall when we came to Snowbird, with Jonny and Michael remaining forever as skinny little boys leaping into that pool.

 

We had other magical moments in the following years.  It was at Snowbird that Steve and Camille told us they were expecting Emilie.  The revelation was accompanied by a picture from a book, showing just how big Emilie's unborn body was on that September 1997 day!  I also remember a visit from the Flindts, for their family night, as Kyle and Lisa wrapped their three little boys, dripping wet from the pool, in towels that dwarfed them, and water oozed from the ends of Kirsten's pigtails.  And I remember all the Sunday dinners at Iron Blosam, with Grandma Calder and Grandma and Grandpa Spendlove chatting around the table in our condo as I finished cooking the chicken and fresh corn.

  

This year, all the children have moved away.  Our week at Snowbird was still magical, though. We filled the week with old friends and with our one remaining parent.  We spent Friday night with the Emmers and Wildes, hiking to The Cliff for dinnner at El Chenate and talking non-stop for four hours.  We ate Sunday brunch at the Atrium with Grandma Spendlove and Darrell, savoring the shrimp, linzer torte, and four storey views of the Wasatch Mountains.

 

 

 

Dave and I do iconic things at Snowbird.  We get a big dose of southern Germany at Oktoberfest.  The same German lady sells Bavarian hats year after year, and there's usually someone in lederosen twisting balloons into animals or demonstrating yoyo tricks.

 

 

 

We eat rouladen and sauerkraut in the big white tent where oompah bands provide yodeling and polkas all afternoon. 

 

 

I was charmed with this little boy, wearing his first lederhosen and venturing onto the dance floor.  He received encouragement from his dad, also in lederhosen.  Kids and grandmas are as welcome to move to the music as are dirndl and lederhosen-clothed couples.

 

 

 

Most of us just listen.

Dave and I then rode the tram to the top of the mountain.  As we looked down at the sheer cliffs marked with black diamonds, we wondered how Michael could possibly make it down those angled rocks on his snowboard.

 

 

 

 

We paused at the top of the mountain to enjoy the views, and then hiked down to the "tunnel" to Mineral Basin, where we caught the chair lift the rest of the way down the mountain.

 As we walked from Oktoberfest to Iron Blossam, we paused by the small pond, which had become a reflecting pool.

Most of all, perhaps, I love driving up and down the canyon, in the early morning and early evening, during our Snowbird week.  The leaves are turning and the soft light picks up the colors of the cliffs and changing leaves.