Day One: Delirious and In Denial

I’m sat in the dining area of my hostel, staring down onto the bustling streets of Melbourne. I can see commuters flocking out of Flinders Street Station — a herd of unfamiliar animals holding brief cases and striding with intention. The room smells like buttered toast and is filled with sleepy chatter from fellow backpackers. As I’m on the third floor, I have a clear view of the tram lines and next door building sites, which woke me up at an ungodly hour this morning. A combination of beeping, banging and clanging from both the outside and my dorm mate (who seemingly loves getting up before sunrise) meant that I only got four hours of sleep last night.

Arguably, this is partly my own fault. Last night, I hit the streets of Cartlon with Freya, my gorgeous travelling partner who I’ve been friends with since age four. We had previously planned to meet our friends from home at a local bar, and completely misjudged how long it would take us to unpack and get ready for the evening, so we ended up heading out much later than intended. Having only landed in the city a couple of hours before arriving at the hostel, we were dazed and discombobulated — heightened by our intense hunger and sleep deprivation from the twenty-six hour journey. Deliriousness started to kick in, evident by my mini-breakdown at leaving my new water bottle at baggage reclaim, so we thought it smart to grab some food from the local supermarket opposite us to alleviate our shaky physical state. Despite our optimistic efforts, we were in there for a solid forty minutes, spending most of the time sat cross-legged on the floor trying to find bread that didn’t contain soya — one of the many things that Freya’s allergic to.

After securing ingredients for simple tuna wraps, we went straight into the hostel kitchen, otherwise known as a performative cook-off between backpackers. Walking into that room was like entering a wasps nest. Young people swarmed each stainless steel workbench, busily chopping and frying food like contestants on Junior Masterchef. It was a free for all for the kitchen equipment, of which Freya and I sorely lost as we couldn’t even find a fork.

After a cramped shower in a bathroom with a blocked toilet full of poo, and about an hour of figuring out how to fit the contents of our rucksack into a locker, we slapped on some makeup and left, reaching our friends by eleven. Excitement took over as we saw some familiar faces, and were met with new ones. Jet lag, and many glasses of wine, gave us a high — carrying us through the night until two in the morning.

I’m exhausted, constipated, and in denial that I’m halfway across the world from most of my family and friends. However, nothing compares to how excited I am to finally be here. Hospitality completely took over my life for the last six months, and I’m so looking forward to finally letting my hair down.

Watch this space.