Going down to Melbourne

Saturday, 10/16/99

With the project building to an emotional climax, my adventure in Oz reached a new peak this week, as it became clear that our contract will not be extended, regardless of the status of the implementation on October 25. Roll-out, as we all knew, ainÕt gonna happen by then, but they wonÕt pay us to stay around and see it through. We will deliver a functional app, to spec, with documentation and training materials. I will not have to deliver end user training, so that means I fulfilled my classroom training obligations with the Òbasic trainingÓ sessions I conducted this week. This included a quick but exciting trip to Melbourne to train the Acer repair centre staff there. This little sub-plot was given a special urgency by the knowledge that I may be rolling off the project as soon as the end of next week. Tuesday through Thursday were scheduled with two classes per day to train all relevant staff in Sydney. I initially allotted four hours for the class, but when I went through the presentation, there were very few questions, so I consistently finished in less than three hours. The trainees were given a basic familiarity with the interface and functionality of the application. They left understanding the basic vocabulary they will need for training and feeling confident in their ability to learn to do their jobs using the app.

The final piece in the puzzle was training Ivy Chen to deliver the training on her own. Ivy was initially scheduled to go up to Brisbane on Friday, while I went to Melbourne. The Brisbane session was postponed because of scheduling problems up there, but they still want her to teach it next week, so I made Ivy teach a whole class on her own on Thursday afternoon. The poor girl was terrified all week. She sat in class and assisted on Tuesday and Wednesday, tape-recording everything I said. On Thursday morning she sequestered herself to study a lengthy script she had written for herself. Of course she was worried about her English, wanting everything scripted so she didnÕt have to translate on the fly. She actually performed quite well, although I did feel a little sorry for her students. Long hesitations while she formulated her words made it hard for them to stay tuned in. The occasional incomprehensible word or phrase made me recall my college calculus instructor, who was a Korean graduate student, and frequently incomprehensible. Well, Ivy wasnÕt like that, but she will need a lot of practice to be really effective.

Friday morning dawned early for me. I had a 7 am flight from Sydney, arriving in Melbourne at 8:20. I got a cab from the hotel just before 5:30 and I was in time to get on the 6 am flight. That was fortunate, as traffic was heavy going into and through Melbourne, so I got to the Acer office just before 9. ItÕs a small office, and they were waiting for me. I met Virgil, the manager of the repair centre, some of the office staff, the local sales manager, and of course, their IT guy. (In my haste to leave the office Thursday evening, I forgot to bring my handouts, so I had to connect to their network to print out a new set.) Virgil had assembled the morning class attendees by 9:30, but I was messing with the network until nearly 9:45. Rather than being upset (pulled away from their jobs for some unknown training), they were patiently waiting, eager for every morsel of knowledge they could get about Siebel (the application). They had lots of questions and wanted to see a lot of detail, so we went the full four hours with demo and questions. Unlike the Sydney training (which was managed by the Taiwan team), the Melbourne office did it right and catered the event, with morning snacks and sandwiches for lunch. We had another class (the other half of the department) after lunch, and we went till 5:30 or so. I did the company schmooze with Virgil to bring good closure to the visit, and shortly after 6 I bid the work week good-bye and went to work on Melbourne.

The cab driver I hailed in front of the Acer office had several suggestions for an eveningÕs entertainment, most of them centering on Irish pubs. In spite of the literate implications of a place called ÒMolly BloomÕsÓ, I was little inclined to go the pub route. I made note of his restaurant recommendations, but ultimately I thought better of it and decided to go exploring on my own. I checked into the Sheraton Towers and immediately began comparing the hotel with its sister in Sydney. Not as grand, but still quite stylish. The entry is quite different: you enter (through a double set of automatic sliding glass doors) to find the bell captainÕs desk to your right. To the left is a corridor with a bank of elevators. But dominating this entry foyer is a massive double staircase with a broad cascading fountain running down between the staircases, which ascend for two levels. Going to the next level you come to reception, which here is not a counter, but a pair of desks, where you sit with the clerk in a civilized fashion and do the paperwork. Also on this level are the cashierÕs counter for checkout and the concierge. Receiving my key I took the spacious elevator to the 18th floor (although I wonder how they number these things, as there was a gap in the elevator buttons between the health club on the fourth level and the 10th floor). Room 1821. ThereÕs a fax machine I was thankful I didnÕt need. The fridge in the minibar was larger and more impressively stocked (chilled Stoli), but I donÕt use that stuff. The bathroom, while comparable, wasnÕt quite as large or nice as Sydney. With virtually nothing to unpack, I still set up my computer: both phone and power connections were conveniently built into the desk.

Melbourne

Finally, eager to make the most of Melbourne, I got a map of the downtown area from the concierge and oriented myself to the geography. Melbourne sits at the north end of Port Philip Bay, which opens into the Bass Strait, separating Australia from Tasmania. Melbourne is the southernmost of the principal Australian cities, if we donÕt count Hobart in Tasmania. The city is noted for culture and the arts. Indeed, I saw many buskers (street musicians) and theatres everywhere (and weÕre not talking movies).

The Sheraton Towers is in Southgate, a relatively new shopping, dining, tourist area on the south bank of the Yarra River, which runs through Melbourne. I walked around to the backside of the hotel and found myself on a riverfront walk with tour boats (silent for the evening), buskers, and a row of riverfront cafes, with several stories of shops and other restaurants above. Even a Wolfgang Puck cafŽ.

Across the river rose the skyline of Melbourne with old Victorian buildings dramatically lit and silhouetted against towering modern skyscrapers. I crossed a convenient footbridge to find the Flinders train station on the other side of the river. The downtown area was brightly lit and bustling. Crossing Flinders, I headed up Elizabeth Street. Within the first block, I popped into Smokemart, a clean, well-lit smoke shop selling bongs as well as Cuban cigars. A tram line runs down Elizabeth (their trams are similar to San Francisco street cars; they are quite proud of them in a nostalgic sort of way) and the street is lined with the typical downtown stores and franchises. I walked a block over to Swanston, recommended to me by Patrick Wu (the IT director for Acer Australia) as the street with all the restaurants. Most of them seemed to be Asian. And in fact, a couple of blocks down Swanston, I came to the gate to the small street of Chinese restaurants that represents MelbourneÕs Chinatown. Unfortunately, the Taiwan experience has severely dulled my taste for Chinese food. In any event, I wasnÕt particularly hungry at that point: I had had breakfast on the plane and was well-fed at Acer, more than I am accustomed to eating in a typical day. So I kept walking.

As Patrick Wu had told me, I saw some very impressive old stone and masonry buildings in the old city. A few blocks out Swanston, I came to the State Library building, a grand building in the classical style. On the plaza immediately in front of the main entrance, a jazz trio performed to a small but appreciative audience. They were well-lit, with good sound set up; it was a regular weekly gig, they said. I asked a security person who sponsored the performance, and she said she thought it was associated with Òthe schoolÓ, presumably referring to the Royal Melbourne Institute of Technology across the street. I continued out Swanston toward Melbourne University.

Mistakenly thinking I was following the cab driverÕs direction (I had the name wrong, and anyway, he said take a cab), I left the dense commercial bustle of the old city and continued toward the outlying districts. The budding spring trees cast their shadows like graffiti across the brick walls that lined the street. I eventually managed to wander into one of better dining districts. Indeed, Melbourne is also known as the restaurant capitol of Australia. This particular area seemed heavily weighted to Italian restaurants. After exploring some more obscure places on the quiet side streets, I walked up and down a two-block section of Lygon Street, where I found an amazing array of sidewalk cafes filled with crowds of happy diners. With this plethora of options, I had no idea how to choose. Many of the establishments had greeters to help capture customers, a little like the barkers on Columbus Street, but more discreet.

When I stopped to examine the Ostrich special on chalk board at the Piccolo Mondo, I got hooked. I ordered a glass of AnnieÕs Shiraz and contemplated the menu. I couldnÕt resist comparing the chargrilled baby octopus entrŽe with the dish a NickÕs in Sydney, so I ordered that along with the Ostrich roulade. Little did I suspect that the ÒentrŽeÓ was a meal-size salad with a generous portion of octopus on top, as well as blocks of fried palenta, topped with a light salsa. Dutifully, I ate the whole thing. I became quite friendly with a group of visiting businessmen at the next table (as the tables were only inches apart; they cram as many into their limited sidewalk space as they can; it was a popular place). They chatted with me about the relative merits of Melbourne, Sydney, and Brisbane. Then came the ostrich: stuffed and oven-baked, it was almost like a pork roast, but tangier, garnished with a mango chutney, and served with spinach and roasted whole potatoes.

Somehow after that pig-out, I managed to get up and make the long walk back to the Sheraton. I walked back Lygon, past more restaurants, watching the nationalities become more diverse. Past Victoria, Lygon became Russell. Past the National Gallery, I entered a nightlife district. Passing pubs and clubs with heavy dance beats emanating, I came back downtown, walking down a block of the Chinatown district and wandering the downtown streets, just looking. Coming back to Flinders Street, I looked across the river toward Southgate. There I saw, for the first time, the Spire towering above the theatres in the Victorian Arts Centre. This is another major Melbourne landmark. Ironically, it is right behind the Sheraton, but it was hidden from my view in my room because of the tall Herald Times tower between us. I crossed the bridge on St. Kilda Road to check out the Arts Centre. Going next door to Southgate, I made a final pass through the arcade on the way back to my room.

The Great Ocean Road

Come Saturday morning, I was up bright and early, filled with excitement, tempered by dread. I knew I was embarking on a great adventureÉ. Thursday afternoon, Linda Mayer (the Acer Call Centre manager), upon learning that I was going to Melbourne, insisted that the one thing I must do is Òhire a car and drive down to the Great Ocean Road.Ó ÒHireÓ means ÒrentÓ, and yes, DRIVE. I had managed to negotiate my way through some nine weeks in Australia without having to deal first hand with the issue of driving on the left side of the road. However, I recognized the deep-seated fear as a challenge, and I knew that a drive to this major landmark represented a special opportunity. I also felt that I had gotten a sufficient ÒtasteÓ of the city on the previous evening. So I seized the opportunitiy and rose to the challenge.

The concierge arranged for Avis to deliver the car to the hotel, so after a minimal bit of paperwork in the lobby, I was sitting in the right-hand driverÕs seat. Avis provided a huge map book covering the entire Melbourne region, so I carefully plotted my way out of Sydney. I knew that once out on the highway I should have no problem: just point the car and go. But one of my dinner companions had worried me a bit when he described his experience driving in LA, noting that it had taken him 2 hours to get out of the city. Of course, thinking about it later, I realized: that was LA -- it could take anyone that long to get out of the metro area. In spite of a wrong turn (proper but misguided), I found the West Gate Freeway, crossed the West Gate Bridge at the mouth of the Yarra, and was headed south toward Geelong by 9 am.

Obviously, driving from the right-hand seat was a bit disconcerting. IÕm almost used to being on the left side of the road after all these weeks as a passenger, but much of the carÕs OS (operating system, for the non-techies) is reversed as well. ItÕs just an upside down, left-handed country. The gas and brake pedals are the same, but the gearshift is operated with the left hand, and the turn signal and wiper controls are reversed. This was one of the most persistent problems: instinctively going for the turn signal and hitting the windscreen wipers instead. The other surprising difficulty was the rearview mirror. I found it almost impossible to remember to look left for the mirror. Each time I wanted to look behind me, I experienced a momentary confusion, and I ended up relying on my right side mirror, as I habitually looked in that direction.

With speeds measured in kph, I quickly became accustomed to driving at 100, and I cruised the M1 (the Princes Highway) toward the coast. Geelong is a small city at the southeast end of Port Philip Bay (a good place to invest, says the sign above the motorway). ItÕs about 70 km from Melbourne, and I made it down there by 10 am. From there, I took B100 due south to Torquay on the southern coast. I saw a lot of surf boards atop the cars headed to the coast, and as I saw the brilliant blue expanse of ocean open before me I saw the Australia Surf Museum to my right in Torquay. Had Janet been with me, we might have been more spontaneous and stopped to check it out; throughout this trip my excitement was dulled by the fact that I was unable to share these delight with her. Indeed, I would have experienced everything more deeply if she had been there. As it was, I remained on autopilot, narrowly focused on my specific goal of cruising the Great Ocean Road to see the 12 Apostles, a major Aussie landmark of twelve huge sandstone rock formations just off the coast. What Linda hadnÕt mentioned was that the 12 Apostles were at the southern end of the road.

The Great Ocean Road begins in Torquay and follows the coast southeast for some 200 km. In many places it hugs the cliffside like Highway 1 in California going north to Mendocino or south through Big Sur. Indeed, it was very reminiscent of a California coastal drive. It was a beautiful sunny day, and the water was a deep iridescent blue, the beaches were white and beautiful. There were many surf beaches, but there were also long stretches of lovely empty beach. At times the road hugged the cliff and the shore below was rocky. These cliffs were not nearly as high or dramatic as the California coastline, but it made for a serene, relaxing drive. Looking out to sea, the Bass Strait stretched before me, with Tasmania hiding beyond the horizon. Beyond that: next stop Antarctica.

Some stretches of the road passed further inland. It was here that the uniquely Australian experiences waited for me. Driving along you see the familiar yellow diamond sign, but this one has the big black silhouette of a kangaroo: Next 5 km. And to be sure, I saw kangaroo road kill lying at the roadside driving through a National Park later that afternoon. In the park I saw signs for a rain forest walk, another side trip I definitely would have taken with Janet. Another shadow over an otherwise outstanding experience, but I drove on with an eye to my wristwatch.

I was scheduled to return to Sydney on the 6 pm Ansett flight. Neurotic as I am about getting to the airport on time, I wanted be sure to have the full 45 minutes they suggest, plus time to return the hire car. So as the time neared 1 pm, I began to get nervous. At 1, I would have just enough time to retrace my route back to Melbourne. I had run into an English couple at one of the lookout points; they had told me that it was only another 60 km to the 12 Apostles, but I suspected that that was an underestimation. After driving through magnificent eucalypt forests in the national park, I finally came to a crossroad at Lavers Hill at precisely 1 pm. I had to make a decision. I stopped at a small cafŽ roadhouse and asked for the fastest way back to Melbourne. The gent at the counter told me to take the inland road down and then go Òleft into ColacÓ where I would find the Princes Highway. This, I knew, would take me quickly back to Melbourne.

Following his directions took me on wonderful tour through hills and forests. In many places near the coast the countryside resembled the coastal areas of Marin and Sonoma counties. Driving inland along a ridge, I came to a sign that did not quite say ÒLeft to ColacÓ, but the other option (going straight) didnÕt look right, so I turned left and descended into the forest. Another kangaroo crossing sign, this time accompanied by an echidna crossing sign. No kidding. The road wound through the woods for many miles, but there were no signs confirming that I was really on the road to Colac, so I began to get nervous again. Lost in the Australian woods, with a plane to catch. I came upon a patch of clear-cut logging, but happily it was small. I saw some parrots, but no large exotic creatures. I passed through a small village in a clearing, still no confirmation that Colac was still ahead. I kept trying to use the sun to judge whether I was going in the right direction, but the road wound about so much that the true direction was impossible to discern. Finally I came down out of the woods and cruised into Colac with great relief. I found the Princes Highway (the A1 down here) and headed back to Melbourne.

Back in Sydney, I am getting ready to wrap up my business in Australia, as I roll off the project at the end of next week. So this is it: itÕs actually finally coming to an end. ItÕs been a wonderful, if trying, experience. IÕll give you a final status report next week, but I hope to see many of you in person almost as soon. Once again, IÕm California dreaminÕ.