On Tasmania and Birthdays Abroad

It wasn't until midsemester break arrived that I realised just how much I needed a rest. I went straight from class to Tasmania, travelling for two days from Launceston to Hobart via, among others, Wineglass Bay, a beautiful curving beach reached via scrambling rocks cast with the dappled shadows of eucalypts. In Hobart we spent two days ambling slowly from cafe to bar, as well as visiting the infamous MONA.

The Museum of Old and New Art was founded by multi-millionaire gambler David Walsh. From the surface, it looks like a shopping centre mid-renovation; inside it's a web of windowless stone catacombs worthy of a movie supervillain. Upon entering you're given an iPod loaded with information about the artworks. Most people would just put a sign next to the art, but Walsh is too rich for that. MONA is a thrilling lair of decadence, its art a combination of the grotesque, the humorous, and the macabre. One room stinks of shit from an artificial glass digestion machine; 151 vagina casts line one wall like stag heads in an English country manor; a beanbag cinema displays around forty Madonna fans singing the Immaculate Collection. A bloated red Porsche squats near a waxen little girl who is entombed, glassy-eyed and drooling, in a rabbit hutch. A carved door is notable for its caption: 'David made too much money on this trip to South Africa, and had to spend some before leaving the country.'

I also met a wombat joey called Tina. Photo by Sarah.

While in Hobart we stayed at the Pickled Frog, one of my favourite youth hostels. Cheerfully decorated, with its own bar, cafe, and very lovely staff, the Frog is the place to be. Not least because of Baloo, an enormous three-year-old malamute, affectionately dubbed the 'resident wolf'. I've never been so in love.

BALOO.

I’m not very good at birthdays.  I’m a people pleaser. I’m very indecisive. I’m a massive fan of democracy. Being the designated centre of attention for a day is something I always find pretty daunting.

And, of course, I’ve never done it so far away from home before.

Fortunately, I have some super cute friends here.

We ate a lot of food – Indian dinner, cheesecake, Lentils breakfast, pub pizza. We hunted out bars in Hobart and did a lot of beer tasting. After arriving back in Melbourne I had a nap and was woken by a knock on the door and presents from two friends I hadn’t seen while I’d been away. I lay on the grass outside with two friends and talked about the ups and downs of study abroad. We went to the city for pizza, then found ourselves firstly in a terrible Lizard-esque club and finally looking out over the city from the Rooftop Bar, my new favourite tourist trap.

Birthdays are all about the people you spend them with. It was strange to be so far away – no breakfast with Christina, no evening with Harry, no family within an hour of my term address. But it’s the people I’ve met here that meant that, despite being so far from home, I had something to celebrate.

Cheesy or what?

In the scrapbook this week is a spot o' Yeats, prescribed by a Red Cross poet doctor, some gratuitous Shakespeare, marriage equality rally scraps, and some Tasmanian travels.

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