No go to Goa... again

I thought that at this point I would be sunning myself on an Indian beach, perhaps partaking of a fruity chilled alcoholic libation as well. To my complete and utter frustration and annoyance I am actually back at work only one week after my foiled attempt to leave the country. If we rewind to last Friday, picture a very excited me, arranging items to pack on my bed before skipping off for drinks at the Grace with a friend who had popped into town for the weekend. I am in such a good mood that I give only a slightly scornful look to the clearly very inebriated man who feels it is his duty to tell me I am "very cute" and order myself a pint of Pale. My friend rocks up and we are jumping around all over the place wondering what I will be doing, smelling, eating, drinking, experiencing in 48 hours when I touch down in Mumbai. Then I get an sms from my travelling companion, hereafter known as Bloody Idiot Passport Loser (BIPL); "Please tell me you have my passport".

Oh shit. My stomach dropped, my smiley face did too and a very long evening of waiting for hear from the passport searcher ensued. Needless to say, my evening at the Grace was ruined, and, as it eventuated, so was my holiday. After a sleepless night the BIPL turned up at mine, still passport-less with a look of utter devastation on his little face. At that point I was still quite pissed off and tearful about the whole thing. I could not believe this was happening after all the bloody planning and having already postponed the trip once before due to visa issues. We searched BIPL's house to no avail. We had to ring up the travel agent and cancel our tickets. Luckily they will refund it all except the deposit of $250 each.

At that point the concept of simply not having a holiday at all was beyond contemplation so we booked tickets to Melbourne instead. The remainder of the day was spent in quiet frustration and reflection on the utter stupidity of the whole thing. Sunday we went to Melbourne and by Monday we had decided on a new course of action: skiing! Calling work to tell them I'd be back a week early was the worst part. I was really looking forward to 2 weeks off.

But we did have a good time at Falls Creek. There was plenty of snow when we arrived, but it was the tail end of the season and by the third day there really wasn't much left. We had perfect weather though, blue skies everyday. The first day I spent catching up to where I left off last time we went skiing but by the last day I was heading down the blue runs and looking a bit less like a plastic action doll coming down the hill (I think). Tell you what though, walking around in those stupid ski boots really gave me the shits! Not comfy at all. The place we stayed at was pretty low quality, but they did have a cooked breakfast included which was keeping me happy. I managed to keep myself fairly warm and not too many prangs much to the disappointment of BIPL. There weren't too many people around either which was good, no lines for the ski lift etc. The last day the lift nearest our accommodation was closed due to melted snow so we had to trek to the next one with all our clobber on. Pretty tiring stuff.

We drove back to Melbourne on Thursday arvo and ended up staying in a Formulae 1 hotel and gto to see some live police action! I completely missed it, but apparently when we first arrived there was a guy being led out of the place in handcuffs and all these cops with blue gloves on. Not sure what the deal was, but the hotel sure felt like the kind of place where you wouldn't be surprised to be neighbouring a druggie. We were incredibly (and perhaps a little pathetically) excited to be within walking distance of a K-mart so my hunt for some Dunlop KT-26 Osakas could continue. Alas, no luck :( Friday morning was enlivened by a drive through Mebourne to return the hire car followed by a time consuming hunt for accommodation. We had forgotten about the footy grand final and all the backpackers close to Southern Cross Station were full. We ended up staying in a noisy but quaint place on Chapel St which had these fabulous full length windows which you could step through onto the balcony.

Had the best gnocchi ever at Pizza Piazza. I should perhaps add a caveat on that by mentioning that I have probably eaten gnocchi 3 times in my whole life so being the best is probably not hard! BIPL had a haircut (finally) and I contemplated doing the same, but chickened out when I saw the guy in charge of the scissors. Scary.

Melbourne is just such a mix of hip, stylish and bogan, bum. I have never seen so many people taking to themselves maniacally as I have over there. Do we not have that many crazy people in Adelaide, or are they just quieter about it?