Saturday dawns a glorious blue and the multitudes are drawn out of hibernation to throng St Kilda Beach. To my mind it is still too chilly at sixteen degrees for the beach duds they are wearing, baggies, tank tops, thongs (which to Kiwis are jandals not g-string bikinis). I have however for the first time changed from jeans to a skirt parading the glaring whiteness of my winter legs to the world. It's not exactly fair competition that the rest of The Esplanade are either ethnically blessed with pre-pigmented skin or have backpacked recently in places where summer is pretty much given all year round. So what I cry, I'm pasty and proud!
The idea was to give myself some time off from pen or keypad today and instead read a book in the sun's warming rays at the beach but I ask you, how can I concentrate when there is so much people watching to be had on the boulevard?
I read a piece the other day in the Melbourne history exhibition at the library that talked about 'doing the block' which was the fashionable parading their families along Collins Street on a Saturday morning in the 1880s. Local author Fergus Hume in his book 'The Mystery of a Hansom Cab' described: “portly merchants walking beside pretty daughters.” I look up from my book on a Saturday morning one hundred and twenty-eight years later and see the exact same thing – with ironed flat hair and cell phone attachments. Dog walkers and their miniscule dogs reign supreme. Debbie and I were in stitches the other day ranting over the fact that these days they sell, what we new to be mongrels, as 'designer dogs'.
“They can call it a schitzoodle all they like,” Debbie raves hysterically. “But it's still a mongrel.”
We got inventive with cross-breed names and came up with the very juvenile but wettingly funny at the time, Poo-schitz or a Bitchin' Freeze. Okay so we don't pretend to be grown-up all the time.
Ahem, anyway the dog walkers are here with their miniatures bred for city living venturing, like their owners, out of their winter hoodies. I was really pleased to see that summer attire for dogs is au naturel and not mini boardies and tanks.
The barely teenage skateboarders are also out in force to flick tricks on the curbs. I am impressed with the skill at which they dodge the pedestrians and other wheeled traffic on the boardwalk but then they tell me they have had hours of practise here, at apparently eleven o'clock at night. Does their mother know they're out at that hour, I wonder?
The air is buzzing with sounds of beach rugby games and the steady drone of weekend jaunters flying passed in small planes, on jetskis and in fishing launches. The sailors are on the water as well and even though the wind is maybe not even 10 knots, they all have their spinakers up. Puts Auckland sailors who prefer to motor if the wind hasn't reached 12-15 knots, in their place a bit. Everyman and his teeny dog it seems, is enjoying the day.
Over at Luna Park Debbie braves the oldest continuously operating rollercoaster in the world and other chunder bucket rides as she nurses a slight Friday night hangover. I'm sure she's not the only one whose stomach is not up to the ride. The Scenic Railway was built in 1911 and can reach speeds of up to 65km per hour with a manual brake operator riding the carriage. Having done a few of these 'vintage' rides at Blackpool I am aware of how real the fear feels that you think you might not make it to the end without something going horribly wrong. Debbie made it safely through however, stomach still in tacked and her souvenir photo is hilarious but then souvenirs are a bit of a thing at theme parks. I do like the Asian lady at the entrance selling from about her person, everything that flashes, wobbles and goes wheeeeeee. Luna Park is a St Kilda landmark along with the Palais Theatre and oooh this is a bit of a sore point at the moment the locals have told me.
Inevitable development is happening at Melbourne's day-tripping capital in the form of (sinister drum roll required here), The Triangle. This is a planned, Council approved entertainment complex encompassing the area from the dilapidated theatre along Jacka Boulevard to the Sea Baths. It has some residents protesting bitterly that it is too big and will bring more people to the area to party. I understand their gripe but my feeling is that St Kilda has always been a pleasure garden and the Triangle complex is just a newer version of the skating rinks and dance halls of old. What's the difference? The promenade has the same portly merchants, the night clubs have the same unsightly bodgies and wedgies who always hung out here. People complained about it then as they do now but they choose to live here.
The other time honoured tradition of St Kilda is the homeless drinking out of paper bags in the parks. They have not adjusted their routine according to the weekend or the weather and are a feature of the beach that the rest of the day trippers obliviously ignore. The beggars are week-round regulars but fare no better with the increased weekend numbers hanging out at the cafes to see and being seen. Something I find really annoying here is that despite the footpaths being constantly busy with dawdling walkers and shoppers, the cafes spread their tables well and truly out into the traffic flow so it doesn't. They create a very narrow corridor for people to get passed and I guess the theory is that if they can't, they will stop for a bite to eat instead. They also have walk-by breakfast bar counters which add to the street block as people queue and hang around waiting for takeaway coffee. It doesn't bug Debbie as much as me because it is prevalent here as the way of life but I don't have to get used to living with it.
No comments:
Post a Comment