For years now I thought he was gone. Every now and then I’d look around in the feeble hope of spotting him, but I hadn’t seen him anywhere. About 5 years ago I did sense him on and off for 6 weeks on a brief trip to London, yet returning home he instantly evaporated. But then….
Less than an hour into my Melbourne sojourn last week, I’d caught a glimpse of him. Oh how my heart beat in his presence. Sadly I lost him in the evening, but to my delight he was there again the next morning.
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© The Ponder Room
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Arriving in Melbourne I caught the Skybus to my hotel on the border of the city centre. For overseas readers I’d strongly recommend the bus as it offers a guaranteed direct route for $16, compared to a cab drive that at the very least sets you back $50, and that’s before the driver pleads ignorance while doing an extra loop or two.
Dragging my bag onto the bus, backpack hanging limply off my right arm, a stranger stood up and approached. Being a lone female traveller I was well versed in the need to avoid eye contact during such situations.
‘Would you like me to do that for you?’ I heard the stranger ask.
Stunned I watched as his huge thick hand picked up my bag with ease and placed it in the roped off area, then took extra care to make sure it wouldn’t fall over.
‘No problem’, was his reply after I thanked him, while noticing a pair of green eyes that a fiction writer would describe as ‘hardened’ had they not known better.
The next morning I was lured out of the fresh sheets and feather pillows by the distant ding of the City Loop Tram. At the platform I swung myself up the step and into the shoulder to shoulder crush on the tram, while grasping the only remaining hand rail, eyes again firmly set on the floor.
‘Would you like to sit down?’, came the question before the tram took off.
Unbelievable!
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The Ponder Room
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I guess I should point out that I am not a grey haired octogenarian who ought to expect such treatment. Nor am I blessed with Elle McPherson-like proportions, or covered in a body spray that invites random strangers to deliver red roses.
And so my love affair with Melbourne continues, spurned on by the fact it has reacquainted me with that most elusive of creatures…
……the gentleman.
So elusive that obviously I cannot supply a photo on this occasion.
Sitting dumb struck on the tram I pondered….
- Maybe it’s something to do with the Antartic chill in the air, as my London encounter was also during a record cold snap. Perhaps that’s why I’ve rarely seen him in Perth, endless days of 40 degree heat saps any notion of pleasantries, instead mouths remain glued shut in fear of further dehydration.
- Maybe it’s something to do with hats, as I notice Melbourne is indeed a city that loves a hat, males and females alike, and who can blame them given the mind numbing cold. Some of them can even get away with a beanie (in an arty, muso kind of way), though I must admit I do draw the line at the footy beanie, even the most genetically blessed face has trouble pulling that look off.
- Or perhaps it’s more to do with the height of the tram steps. If you remember that the population was shorter in the 1800’s, how on earth did they make it up the step, especially the women of the day in their hooped shirts? Maybe the Melbournian male is just genetically predisposed to acts of chivalry.
