Trip Start Sep 09, 2004
394Trip End Ongoing
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The only let down was Harold, in that he wasn't there, which meant settling for Libby and Karl Kennedy. We were steaming. Mike and Lorn were well on form and we painted the place red. The smell of the room the next morning indicated that kebabs had been consumed somewhere along the line too. We were wounded proper and did the only thing we could do under the circumstances: a full English, a lazy stroll along the beach and a few hair of the dogs in the afternoon.
St Kilda was amazing. I'd always had it down as a waterfront kinda place with bars and restaurants dotted around a picturesque harbour. Not the case. It's oddly laid out with the main street tucked away off centre somewhere, the majority of it littered with specialist food shops, arty places, bookstores and trendy cafes. All this seems to attract a healthy mix of punter, many of them chilled out around the streetside chairs and tables supping on a latte bowl or house white as the occasional prostitute flitters by in minimal clothing. It's all very 'Mike' actually. He's right at home in St Kilda, which I'm sure only adds to the whole New Zealand vs England heart tug dilemma. It'll probably be a while before I see them again - at least a year I imagine - which is why it was worth a lively reunion..