This morning I’m heading off towards Fitzroy to see the Saint Rose Street Street Market. I take the tram across town. First I stop for a really nice egg breakfast at Stagger Lee’s. Yummy and hot scrambled eggs on toast. Better than Borrones at home and half the price. The street market turned out to be just so-so, although I saw lots of great graffiti art on my way there. I walked back to Gertrude Street and did some shopping. My friend Peter then texted me , “Where are you?” “Can I buy you lunch?” He wanted to take me to Cru, a wine bar he is a partial owner in.I took a tram home, showered and he picked me up. It was great. It’s a real local hang out. Had a bar and tables in the front and a huge courtyard in the back. We had white and rose wine and lunch and I met the staff. One of the fellows, Adam, played football for University of Kentucky. The other owner, Andy, came and we sat around with him chatting. After lunch at Cru we went to a wine shop in South Melbourne. Peter toured me all around South Melbourne. That night I went via tram to North Melbourne and saw a play called Bronx Gothic. It was part of the Melbourne Arts Festival. I dutifully came 40 minutes early and was one of the only ones there for 15 minutes. People do not get places way ahead of time. They are too busy having fun up until they change venues. Also, I was impressed that no one rushed to get in when the doors were open. It was a very chill scene. Everyone had a cocktail when they came in and no one was in a rush to leave their cocktail to go sit down. Later I asked some locals and they said people in Melbourne have an innate sense of fairness. They know generally who was there before them and they would not try to get an advantage by going in ahead of those people. Another person told me –no it’s not that–we just like to drink up until the last minute. As we were led into the performance space we noticed it was a darkened room where the solo dancer was off in the corner. I thought she was warming up but she was really dancing to herself in the corner with her back to us. She was beautiful, tall and African-American and had a burnt orange halter dress on.By the time the audience was entirely seated she was quite sweaty. Lamps were scattered around the stage–some were overturned. She danced and read aloud from notes as if she was an 11-year-old girl in the ghetto in New York. It was a coming-of-age sexuality piece. It was very very raw. It was very moving. It was disturbing. It was lots of things and I was so very glad I had come. I heard thunder during the play I thought it was part of the act but when I came out of the play it was lightning and raining hard. I considered staying in the area but given my recent accident and the throbbing of my leg, I hailed a cab and was quickly back to South Bank. I poured a glass of wine and sat looking at the Yarra River from my windows and couldn’t stop thinking about that 11 year old girl. I’m so happy I’m in Melbourne.