Letter From New York - The Boy out of Fitzroy

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The Boy out of Fitzroy

The waiters may be same all over the planet, but I can't say the same about cab drivers.

Unlike New York cabbies, Melbourne cab drivers can't be rushed; they have all the time in the world. They might get impatient about the sluggish habits of other Melbourne drivers - but as to themselves, well it is easy-come-easy-go. And if you so much express any impatience, I suspect they go even more slowly.

Their one redeeming feature is their entertainment value. A few days ago, for example, I was in a cab going from Carlton to an outer-Melbourne suburb. Now, Melbourne traffic is slow, partly because of the trams that run on fixed tracks. You can't overtake a tram, or indeed pass it on either side if it is stopped - and it is rare indeed to see a moving one. This means that you can take forever to do a right-hand turn (for Americans who drive on the other side of the road, this is equivalent of a US left-hand turn). Despite the right-turn green arrows that sprinkle the roads of Melbourne, hardly anyone seems to get anywhere at all. This is because, as well as the impediment of the trams, Melbourne drivers are sluggish at intersections. Where the green arrow would theoretically allow say five cars through on a single iteration, you are lucky in Melbourne if one of them can accelerate fast enough to make the crossing.

This has always both annoyed and frustrated me. So I was more than interested when the cab driver taking me to the outer-Melbourne suburb explained to me that he knew why Melbourne drivers were so slow at intersections.

"It's because they can't do two things at once" he started. (I've always thought that this was a feature of men in general, rather than drivers, so I was intrigued and waited impatiently for more). "You see", he went on authoratively, "they get to the intersection and put the blinker on to indicate a turn. This is enough. They can't think of anything else. The turning on of the blinker itself has taken up all their attention".

"And if that's not enough", he explained, "they then hear the tick-tick-tick of the indicator. It lulls their brain to an even slower rate than normal".

He may be right; but he was no Speedy Gonzales himself, taking ninety minutes to drive about eight miles. But I dared not complain, lest I be thought of as an American tourist.

I found my next cab driver more entertaining. This one had no teeth - not a one. An old "digger", no doubt he'd served the country proud in the last world war, and was now settled into a life of Aussie-ease.

When I approached his cab it was stationary. He was leaning against it explaining to a mate that he wanted his money in American dollars. After several minutes when we got moving, he explained to me that he had many American dollars. "The Yanks - he explained - more money than sense - you tell them the fare is $20 Australian and they give you $40 US and a tip - usually double the fare". I started to tell him I lived in America but Australian-male-style, he wasn't listening. He wanted to tell me a tale, or in Australian terms, a "yarn".

"These Yanks he said:", I've met many of them. Too many I would say. Every year me and the missus (wife) take a trip to Honkers (Hong Kong). There're everywhere there. I ran across a really obnoxious one in Hong Kong - part of one of those groups. I'd done the right thing by the locals and threatened to punch him when I heard him telling off and shouting at a waitress, but strike me if I don't run into him again, with his mob (group) in China. There he was, explaining to the Chinamen (Chinese) about how they may think the dam they were showing us was big, but they didn't understand that American dams are bigger. So I said to this Yank, 'The only thing big about you mob is your mouths!'"

The finale of his his yarn was the Australian - "You can take the boy out of Fitzroy (a working class Melbourne suburb), but you can't take Fitzroy out of the boy'."

All this being said we'd arrived at my destination. "'Ave a good day luv!" he bid me goodbye, with a toothless grin.

I did. And despite his ignorance and habit of stereotyping people, I found him delightful: "You can take the girl out of Australia, but you can't take Australia out of the girl".

Start Spreading the News

Two brothers from the outback made a brand new start of it in New York's tough restaurant industry. Now they've made it.
The Melbourne Age, 22 August 00

The Eight Mile Creek restaurant in on Mulburry Street in Manhattan has been well reviewed in both the New York Times (William Grimes) and the Melbourne Age (Mark Forbes). The restaurant is run by two Australians - brothers Frank and Will Ford, who started their carrers as miners in the Australian outback. Although it started only about eight months ago, the restaurant is reported to be doing a brisk trade.

Judging from the Age report, the menu is "an inventive blend of new-style Australian cuisine, happy to borrow from European and Asian traditions". Forbes tried the warm oyster meat pie as an entree, and on the evening that he dined there the mains included Black Sea bass, prawns, and tender pink lamb.

I haven't been to Eight Mile Creek yet, but intend to go shortly, to review it myself. I particularly like the fact, that although the menu is made up of Australian-type produce, there's not of that touristy Australiana decorating the place.

Melbourne
August 22 2000

Your Questions and Comments

Greg, an Australian living in Montreal , emailed:

I also enjoy the Letter from New York, although I am not a middle-aged female. An Aussie who's lived in Montreal for 2 years, I am a 27 year old male (born of Sydney, and bred in Wagga Wagga) who's visited New York twice. You've got it all down there. Although the 80 hour weeks don't make me jealous, the salaries do, but then again, the cost of renting also does not!

Your problem with the French waiters amused me - I'm surrounded by the buggers! Well, I exaggerate. There are a lot of what are called "French from France" in these parts, but being a sports fanatic, I have enjoyed watching 300 of them in a bar shut right up during the recent World Cup rugby. I was the only Aussie in the room. Sweet joy.

The Quebecers aren't a bad lot though. My wife is one of them! We do intend to go back to Australia in the near future, since Canadian wages (combined with the taxes) are only single digit percentages better than Oz. Rent is also only marginally cheaper.

Maybe you should visit and become enlightened by Quebec culture (if you haven't already). Don't be like the NY couple in Mad About You who said: "Canada is like sex. We know it's there, but we never go".

I've often thought of visiting Quebec, but never seem to have the time. And, like sex, as you say, it is always there.