WELL HELLO ALBURY. GOODBYE GPS LADY FROM THE DEPTHS OF HELL.

When I started this post, I had been driving for two days straight and could safely say, if it weren’t for my newly acquired GPS, I would not have made it to my destination alive.  And, even though I’m pretty sure the GPS lady wanted me dead and was often suggesting I turn down dirt tracks Ivan Milat would endorse, I can only thank her for my newly found confidence when driving around the totally foreign city that is Melbourne.

Hey, even when she suggested I had 2.5 hours left until I reached my destination on Wednesday and I could tell from the tone of her voice she was really suggesting I go fuck myself, I still wanted to give her a hug.  Sure, I was often found to be arguing with her in the car, completely alone but this did not at all seem unreasonable.  Often our conversations went a little something like this:

Her:  "Take the next right onto George Street"

Me: (Out aloud) "Um, no.  There is no George Street, what in the fuck are you talking about??" She would then recalibrate and we would get on with it. 

After a brief stop in Sydney where I slept on a very comfortable couch lent to me by the very lovely Nicky L, I made my way on to Albury.  But not before a stop off at one of only two McDonalds on the stretch for a caffeine fix.  Now here’s the thing.  There is absolutely NOTHING to see on the highway between Sydney and Melbourne.  The Hume Highway should just be rebranded the LONGEST STRETCH OF NOTHINGNESS IN THE WORLD; at least then people would be prepared.  This must be why, when people see a McDonalds, they lose their shit and treat it like a McDisco.  Seriously, people were dressed like they were ready to pick up.  Forget Farmer wants a wife Channel 9, just set your cameras up at the closest Hume Highway Maccas and you’ve got your next series RIGHT. THERE.

The other thing I noticed about this drive was the radio stations.  I mean, I took a stack of music to listen to, but if I had to listen to Adele one more time I would probably have to gouge my own eye out no matter how beautiful a singer she is.  So intermittently, I would attempt to get a radio station.  There was one in particular, an ABC station that was talking about fleas on dogs.  This was one of the questions:

Presenter: “So what is a sign your dog may have fleas?”

Vet: “The dog will be scratching itself” Fucking really???

I could also probably debate the subject of corporate tax fairly comprehensively after listening to at least three hours of information regarding this.  Any takers. No. I didn't think so. 

I arrived in Albury late-ish in the afternoon and proceeded to check into a non-descript motel with zero Wi-Fi and a studded velvet bed head.  One that I could still tune in AM radio from.  I’m pretty sure for an extra tenner; I could have secured the suite with a mirror on the roof.  I resisted.

What I did quickly ascertain was that I would need a drink that night.  No internet, limited television channels, i.e. SBS or SBS, I reckoned I’d need some company.  My inebriated mind seemed like a logical choice, so I set out into the mean streets of Albury in my jeans, tattered Beatles T-shirt and thongs.  Bup-Bow. 

See, in Albury, I could NOT for love nor money, find a bottle shop that existed outside a licensed establishment.  In turn, this meant that the bouncer at the Albury RSL club I ended up tracking down was NOT loving my jean/t-shirt/thong combination.  In fact, I think he was one sentence away from saying ‘Not in that footwear Miss’ when I walked on past him.

I ate there, the locals were lovely and I went back to my room where I was graciously offered a toke of a guy’s joint on the way up the stairs to my ‘apartment’.  I declined. 

Tune in next time to find out how FUCKING boring the drive is between there and Melbourne.  But wait, there is more.  It involves St Kilda, fare evading on trams and forcing people to make eye contact with me on the mean streets of Melbourne. Oh and getting the rest of my family to join me here.

Hope to be writing this from our own place next time and not a dodgy hotel that has blue lighting in the foyer.  I think this is where I am meant to say Ciao.