I went to Wunderkammer. I walked up Lonsdale Street towards the Docklands, past a picturesquely vacant Melbourne lane:
It was wedged into a cozy corner of the street, between a bunch of office buildings:
And just opposite a building that seemed to be decorated with abandoned shopping trolleys.
So I went in.
I had barely taken five steps into the building before I found myself face to face with the head of a stag, staring at me balefully with its glassy eyes. Straight off, I backed away, placing my head on the table for support. There was a snapping sound, and I turned to see a hinged human skull attempting to swallow my fingers.
Backing off rapidly, I found myself suddenly encircled by the gigantic skeleton of a python, and I almost skewered my eye on one of the rib-bones. I emitted a polite but definite shriek, and tumbled head-first down the stairs.
Here I found myself in a curious laboratory, surrounded by curious gadgets, fit for a mad professor. Where was the mad professor? I shuddered to think! I collapsed in an exhausted heap at the bottom of a bookshelf, evincing a sudden fall of parliamentary records of Outer Westphalia, or somewhere like that. It's hard to read when books are collapsing in a pile on your head.
I noticed as I brushed the specks of dust and the crumbled flecks of Neo-Platonic texts from my hair that there was an open door leading to a warehouse or similar out back. From the darkness, I could hear a curious, regular mechanical sound, and a faint aroma drifted out, tickling my nosebuds, redolent of - could it be? - human breast milk.
Eventually I managed to claw my way back up the staircase and found myself surrounded by long-dead trilobites, ammonites, fish, not to mention lepidoptera and beetles, all demanding vengeance!
I briefly contemplated buying a dead cockroach as a memoir of my visit, and I think we're all grateful that that contemplation was only brief, hey?
For no reason at all, here's a picture of a place in Fitzroy, on the way to Carlton. It's either an insane asylum, or an ice-cream parlour, or both.
And here's one of my favourite places in Melbourne, the Office of the Consulate General of Spain.
It's a tiny place wedged in between a post office and some sort of fashion/beauty shop on Elgin Street. I think when the Government decided to put the consulate there, their reasoning went something like this:
"Say! This looks like a good place not to have a Consulate General!"
"Good idea! We'll put the Spanish there. Who else is on the list?"
"Well, we need to have a Yugoslavian embassy."
"Hey, let's put them in a tunnel underneath Flinders Street Station! That will work!"
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
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