We've just stepped out of the bustling Victoria market near to our hostel in North Melbourne. Inside it's noisy, the chaos of traders shouting their wares, customers and tourists moving slowly through the stalls and crying children incredible to be in the midst of. The vegetables and fruit are bright and fresh, the fish, meat and deli halls crammed with strong smelling and tasty looking oddities. In the busy parking lot a open backed truck full of meat has just pulled up. It is flanked by gulls, diving into it to snatch chunks of meat and struggle with them onto the tarmac. They noisily call to each other, diving in and out of the stationary truck, ripping at the strong smelling meat scraps. I sit close by, watching intently, glad to be off my feet and to have the weight of my satchel off my aching shoulders.
