Part 9 (Melbourne, 4 days)
Somewhere in the wilderness that is Tasmania, we'd gotten a call from the airline telling us that the flight we had back home from Melbourne has been cancelled and thus have to be moved to the following day. And, they say, there'll be no compensation for the extra night's lodging this will cost us.
I call to complain about the turn of events. The random customer service chap who picks up kicks off the conversation by whispering to his colleague nearby, apparently under the impression that I am unable to hear him if he whispers into his mouthpiece.
When he was finally ready to talk, he tells me I would receive travel vouchers in lieu of compensation. I'm easily fooled, as usual. My advice? Avoid Jetstar if you can, there're other budget airlines that fly Australia. They seem plagued with late flights, scheduling woes and, if the news is to be believed, tons of customer complaints. Suddenly, I remember that I forgot to put in a good word about this fellow in my survey form (yet another one I actually wanted to fill).
Shockingly, the lady who greets us at our lodgings guesses I am 15 years old. It's been some time since this happened. I don't know if this is better than being told I am "like a guy", except for a perceived too low level of interest in sex. People who've never had to face being thought of as a 15-year-old by strangers all through their 20s and even on the wrong side of 30 seem to think it's all fun and games.
But back to Melbourne - it's actually quite refreshing to live opposite the city's largest cemetery. We missed our tram stop on 2 consecutive days despite the unmistakable landmark. You can also ponder the rows and rows of gravestones while doing the dishes, searching for the elusive answers to questions like why Asian ghouls are more terrifying than Western ones.
NB. Look left for pictures from Darwin before the bird licked my lens <_<
