The road to the city passes through typical industrial suburbia before passing over a magnificent bridge with views of the city including the famous “London Eye” only that it’s in Melbourne and doesn’t actually work. I met a bubbly cousin Fi for $8 litros and even better value banter in one of the “European” style bars. Legging it to miss our train, possibly due to the donut stop, we cut our losses and hopped in a taxi.
Bad cousins, bad bad cousins
Late night takeaways in Australia are often drive-thru only and for health and safety reasons will not serve customers on foot. This can and has been on less proud occasions an irritating issue. Luckily there is always a cab waiting in the car park willing to take you through the drive through for a fee which makes it an expensive Macca’s (but all the more satisfying).
Sadly, not for the last time in the weekend, we found ourselves in a cab slowly following the other numbskulls to cholesterol filled self destruction. Damn it was good!
Saturday morning was a slow starter but our determination to tackle the infamous “Edge” (not the guitarist from U2 as our ever useful and incredibly witty Lonely Planet pointed out). A few coffees later we found ourselves outside the Eureka Skydeck 88 entrance marvelling at the PR folks who’d encumbered the building with such a name. Mike, from my Frisbee team in London, joined us. Safety in numbers.
The Edge is one of the most ludicrous tourist attractions I’ve been to, it consists of paying your extra dollareedoos to stand in a 3x3m opaque glass box that gets nudged out of the building. With a moment of high drama the glass becomes clear and you can see the same view you saw a few minutes before from the skydeck but at a slightly different angle. Pretty scary stuff and with the high winds buffeting us we could well have just fallen off the side of the building. Luckily we survived (and have wristbands to prove it) and spent the rest of the weekend congratulating each other about surviving the Edge.
Meeting the cousins
