two tuesdays ago, i woke up in my hotel room in melbourne with a mission. i had to find the waffle place for breakfast, and then i had to be at acmi at ten, when the doors opened, to buy me a ticket to the pixar exhibition.

the waffles you might have already read about; the pixar show — well, by the time i waddled my waffle-laden ass over to the hideous yet brilliant federation square, there was a short queue at the ticket counter. yep. first day of the school holidays (they’re closed monday), and there were munchkins everywhere.

the three or four large rooms crammed with concept sketches, colour studies and clay models made me feel, alternately, awe and revulsion (awe towards the pixar artists, clearly, and revulsion at how i had squandered my life away and never did any drawing). there were touchscreen video kiosks scattered throughout the exhibition — ingenious foldy things that could be adjusted from full-height vertical to how-low-can-you-go? did i mention there were children everywhere? — video kiosks, before which you could stand for many many minutes (hours?) if you were so inclined, to watch behind-the-scenes everything on pixar productions. and then there was a zoetrope.

oh. my. godddd.

there’s this small, dark room, right, and in the middle is a carousel of toys from “toy story”, engaged in all manner of acrobatic activity. it’s kind of interesting, this dimly-lit tableau of colourful little statues going around and around… and then the strobe lighting kicks in, and the music, and it’s the most amazing thing ever (4.2mb mp4, as documented by this guy). i went back in three times. kids everywhere.

so that sums up the pixar show for me: 3D “toy story” zoetrope. quick! go! you have until october.

and then it was lunchtime. i got a passout just in case, and guess what! went back to waffle on and joined the immense lunchtime queue for freshly-baked baguette sandwiches. truly, the man takes them out of the little oven behind the counter, splits them open, and fills them, still steaming, with such things as salty butter, ham and pickles, if you, like me, ask for le parisien. and if you do request le parisien, he will ask if you want cheese in it as well. “you will like it, i promise. it is very good gruyere.” it was. the whole unwieldy baton.

i tore bits off, salty-melty, as i walked up flinders lane, and then i devoured the rest of it sitting in the sun in fitzroy gardens until the lunchtime tree loppers cut short my reverie, sending a gust of sawdust my way. but no matter: it was time to cross the street to craft victoria, to see the scarves. so many scarves, and what’s the definition of a scarf anyway? i’ve been curious about learning how to knit, and now i see that if i stick to scarves, i may not need to.

i did a quick jaunt back up brunswick, to see if the shop i really wanted to go to was open (it wasn’t; they were renovating), and it turned out to be sunny enough that i could sit outdoors — in melbourne, in wintertime! — and have a cup of gelato.

here’s the thing: maybe you walked past trampoline yesterday, while poking ’round fitzroy. you might have even popped in briefly, just to see what flavours might lie waiting in the metal troughs. “chai latte” might have caught your eye, and probably “berry pavlova” — a bright pink concoction studded with uneven chunks of broken meringue. but you were sloshy full of lunchtime soup, and besides, there was no-one at the counter. today is a different story: with only a ham-and-cheese baguette under my belt, and two helpful youngsters behind the counter, i came away with a double dose of “chai latte” and “caramel pear”. the former had not much tea flavour, but the spices were intense and true; the latter was creamy and smooth for a sorbet, and had a sweet, dark caramel syrup running through it. dee-licious.

i caught a tram back into the city, and as i passed my stop on collins street, it occurred to me that i could ride all the way to the end of the line, because really, what the hell did i have to do? and so i found myself in st kilda. strolling aimlessly, with purpose, looking in windows, being seduced by those acland street cakes (and another trampoline outlet!).

“chocolate kugelhoph… now available in slices” said a hand-lettered sign. it comes in a large pan, and the surly countergirl will cut you off as much as you want. turns out i wanted $3 worth; it would do fine for breakfast.

and then the sun began to set, and i could’ve done that thing where you walk along the bay and see how quick the sun can drop away… but i had a movie to get to. back in the city, i was just in time for [mutters, lips unmoving] “blades of glory“. me and… well, at first i thought i had a personal screening, but then two, and then four, and by the end, no more than twelve, and will ferrell. it was no worse than i expected, and there were larfs to be had; just enough good stoopid fun for $8.50.

after, walking through chinatown and not being able to decide which noodle joint would be better than the others, i turned the corner onto lonsdale, and stumbled upon the international cake shop, right where i last left it years ago. glistening greek pastries called to me, like sirens, i tell you. once i was inside though, it became clear that i would have to break the perfect wheel of spanakopita sitting behind the glass counter. it was salty and good, and the tea service was not without charm.

the night was quickly crashing to a close, and the cakes behind glass — all manner of shortbread, filo, gateau, syrup-soaked temptation — put their best sides forward. i picked the chocolate sandwich sponge slab decorated with piped icing (over a golden semolina cake) and decided later, back at the hotel, that it was a slightly stale mistake. tchk.

i never made it back to see the pixar zoetrope.

– – –

one tuesday ago, i went to see “transformers“. wah!