The beginning of February, our office added another American on staff on a temporary basis.  Melvin is older and married, but has a spirit of adventure and from the same type of rural background and values that I was raised with, so that meant a traveling partner on some of the trips through Australia.  This was good on several fronts, first, it meant someone else to help pay for gas, second, it meant someone else to plan the routes and experiences, finally, Melvin is not only a fantastic story teller, but also a keen observer to wildlife and someone that shares a lot of the same interests, which meant the long drives to the far reaches of Australia, suddenly got much more interesting.

Both of us are also big guys.  Melvin was a Big Ten football player through his college years and is still in good shape.  I’m just a big old country boy.

Someone said in the office that if we traveled together, someone might mistake us for the proverbial “brute squad.”

Sunday after I got home from church, we met for dinner.  For those of you from a farm in the midwest, you know what I’m talking about.  For the rest of you, this means lunch.  Luckily, we also speak the same country boy language.

Walking through the Docklands and through the boat show, looking at the multi-million dollar boats and the people who probably couldn’t afford them, we made our way to the end of the shopping area to the famous James Squire brew pub.

James Squire was the first brewer in Australia and got his start in Sydney in the very early 1800’s.  Actually, he got his start as a theif in England prior to his start in Australia, but that is another story.  He worked hard, earned his freedom, and promptly moved into his original profession of brewing which was looked upon favorably by the thousands of other convicts that were living in Sydney, but not so kindly by the officials trying to keep them under control.

One thing is certain, James Squire made good beer.

We grabbed a bit to eat and a beer or two and proceeded to walk to the heart of the city.  Catching a tram, I was planning on taking him to St. Kilda to view the beach, have a beer in the sun, and enjoy the sights.

Catching the tram, I was a bit perplexed when the people directing us on board told us that all the trams would take us to St. Kilda today - I knew that couldn’t be the case.  I grew even more alarmed when I noticed everyone getting off about a mile before the normal St. Kilda stop - and we, staying on the tram, proceeded in the opposite direction.

Checking the tram numbers - this was the right tram - what could possibly be the trouble.  We caught the next tram going the other way about ten minutes later and hopped off the tram about a mile from the famous St. Kilda beach.

We would need to proceed on foot and the streets were packed.

But something seemed, well, different.

Suddenly, I noticed a sign…we were walking into the middle of gay rights march.

I think we both realized it at the same time - and while we both laughed, we gave each other that friendly face that seemed to say, “you so much as touch my hand and I’m going to deck you.”

“Can’t wait to tell the guys back in the States where you decided to take me.” Melvin stated matter-of-factly.

For the record - I had no idea that there was any type of rally taking place in St. Kilda.  Let alone a gay rights rally.  But it made for some interesting viewing.