So I became a proper tourist here and went a bit mad for sightseeing, much to the surprise and dismay of everyone else in the hostel. It's unfortunate that I ended up spending real cash-money to do most things, but hey. I intend to sell a small slice of my liver when I get to New Zealand, and sign up for every medical test program going while simultaneously donating several pints of blood.
Only joking Mum

The first full day I trotted after a couple of Kiwi girls along with a german guy called Kristoff, under the vague notion of seeing something but mostly to watch these two girls struggle with their bags on and off various trams and trains, because I'm a sick bastard at heart. They were relocating from our original hostel to another, and had planned to go to Victoria Market right after, something I desperately needed to do myself because I had no coat, no jacket and no sweatshirts, jumpers, warm layers, common sense or brains. I simply had not thought to check the temperature locally and had only the vaguest sense that it was actually Winter. Well when did you ever see the words `Australia` and `cold` in the same sentence? Honestly.

The market was large and, by comparison to every other market and car boot sale I have ever been too, a proper marvel of mercantile endeavour, with new and interesting, or at least only a little bit shit stuff on every stall, but to a local I'm sure it's just the same old tat all over. Nonetheless there were large, well-laid-out stalls for everything from shoes to kid's toys to naff memorobilia of the `flags and fluffy animals` school of tourist junk, and at least a dozen places selling bad leather jackets staffed by the kind of 50's throwback wideboys you would only expect. There still did seem to be though, mixed in between the thinning teddy-boy haircuts and entire stalls of pink furry mufflers (quite how or why these things are allowed I'm not sure) some items of actual value and interest. I made a pair of shoes my own, and pretended to be interested in the jackets just to hear the stallholder's patter, and prove once and for all that a market wideboy is a market wideboy, and you can put as many ocean's between them as you like; there still ain't no difference.

A little shopping for a fleece-like thing later, including a visit to the other reknowned shopping area in the city (a mall with a building within a building and a damn great conical glass tower that houses it, very impressive from the inside) and I returned after a good first day. On the way back I sampled some brief beer in a street cafe, and it was good.

Apart from the cold chilly air and the elegant, wide streets that first day, I couldn't help but be briefly confused as we walked across the street from a Burger King, except it wasn't a Burger King at all, it was a Hungry Jack's. I surmised (and was later proven correct, +100 points to Gryffindor) that before the mighty multinational foodies moved to Oz some bugger either trying to clever or simply being awkward already operated a burger shack somewhere with the same name. The only thing that seems odd to me is: Why the hell did they plump for Hungry Jack's in the end?

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Next on the list I had to go and check out a bunch of buildings and stuff around the town so the following day that's what I set out to do, taking a revitalising pie from the stand at Flinder's Street Station and marvelling, for all of about 8 seconds while shoving hot steak and gravy down my face, at the Clocks At Flinder's. Yes capital letters for some clocks, not quite sure why except that the station's beloved clocks that range along the front entrance are the meeting place of choice for Melburnians of all ages, and you indeed can't hardly get into the bloody station to catch your train for all the delinquents, pensioners, tourists, delinquent pensioners and more bloody tourists who crowd the steps either waiting to meet some friends, or just trying to look popular.

To combat this slight operational error and get some of the hoards of loiterers to go somewhere else the local authorities have constructed a purpose-built meeting area directly across the road, and they called it Federation Square. It is rather an attractive space, especially so for being so scuplted with a strong sense of space in the heart of a big city, and houses a surprising amount of stuff all of which laid out in a suitably poncy style (this is the Aussie city of culture, art and various other pretentious things, after all) and each building within the Square is fronted with thousands of pseudo-random triangles and fragmented panels, lending a very Picasso-esque feeling to the place. If you have the heart (and frankly I don't) then feel free to insert your own `cubist` joke here.

The Square does house the Australian Museum of the Moving Image, a cinema, the ever-helpful but ever-inundated tourist information office itself neatly snuck cunningly underneath the square itself with just an overground lobby visible from the outside, and also a couple of neat touches like a small campfire kept fuelled through the day by a warden, and various cafes and a couple of bars, as well as a vast amount of seating made from the stepped layering of the whole place, all rendered in tones of buff and rouge which isn't even half as bad as it sounds.

It's very agreeable and a damn nice place to hang out, have a meal and/or several dozen drinks or even catch a movie. But there's still a quarter of a million people underneath the fucking clocks at Flinder's Street.

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That same day I also went and ogled the Parliament House (large, nice lamps) the various skyscrapers all around the CBD (larger, shiny) and a couple of cathedrals in the gothic style (fairly large, pointy) and even the riverside frontage of restaurants, tourist attractions and offices which overall was damp, slightly shiny and also had lamps, although not quite so nice. As far as days go seeing city sights, it was damn cheap so I went and spent some of the day's `profits` in a genuine English pub. I know it was one, because it said so on the woodwork outside

The Elephant and Wheelbarrow was... not as bad as you might expect, apart from the name.
The decor was spot on with dark wood panelling, fishing paraphenalia and various other typically English knick-knacks mounted on the walls. The suit of armour might have been a bit much, but in true English style the toilets were near-impossible to find, so some redeeming points there.
The beer cost as much as a private liver transplant, and only wins that contest by being the more enjoyable of the two options. The name made me chuckle though - someone clearly knows of the Elephant and Castle but a) hasn't realised the mounted seats on said beast of burden are called castles, b) hasn't made any kind of military connection viz. the crusades or in fact any kind of armed territorial conflict in Asia or Africa ever, or c) is being tongue in cheek but only acheives the confusion of small children and wannabe travel writers.

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The next day I went to the Melbourne Museum and it was, as noted before, excellent. The day after that I went down to the Eureka Tower and saw the city from 88 floors up, again with Kristoff, and then ran away back to the hostel early for some reason, quite possibly to revel in the fact I can cook real food again here, something I have been having idle daydreams about for around 6 months now.
Even when it is cheap as hell, far cheaper and of course easier than cooking yourself in England, after 70 days of restaurants for breakfast, lunch and dinner then you can get this insane craving for saucepans and a wooden spoon. And something not fried in butter for once.

The day after that, was the aquarium and/or oceanarium as I'm not sure which is which, or why, as aquariums have saltwater fish as well, but nonetheless the one in Melbourne can't quite make up its mind. I would like the record to also show that I walked into the City that day, for reasons I didn;t understand then and don't quite get now. Still, it was a good stretch up the mighty Chapel street, chief of the none-central roads of the city, and I even saw a hairdressers and a couple of other little distractions along the way.
Best of these was: an entire shop devoted to the sale of condoms. Wow, just, wow. I don't know quite how much fun these Aussies have around here, but judging by the continued existence of a place like this it is a lot more than me.
Also noted en route to the City was a subtle thing that I think speak volumes. Leading off Chapel street, not 50 yards from the bustle of upmarket fashion stores, alcohol warehouses (they really do know how to sell booze in this city i.e. by the lorry-load) plush furniture retailers and condom shops, there was a business park housing the usual furniture depots (DFS, etc.) and DIY stores, as well as budget supermarkets (an ALDI) and white goods and electonic stores.
Just the fact that these are available off a major retail street in the city and not tucked away miles out of town so you have to have your own car to reach them is pleasantly warming to me.

And not just because I don't drive (because I can't be trusted) but also because it harks of a fairer, more easy-going approach to these things.

After passing several million shops, and walking a further light-year of riverside, dodging innumerable joggers and watching with a quiet dismay the number of healthy young folk also rowing on the river, I arrived, at length, and at the cost of several spare paragraphs, at the Aquarium. Oceanarium. Whatever.

It cost something frightening; $26 AUD which is a lot - the Eureka Tower observation deck is ambitious already at $16, Melbourne Museum is by far the best thing to see in the city and not just because it only costs $6 to get in as an adult - but still, despite the protests of Martin the Yorkshireman (who went a few months back but baulked at the cost and comparitively small size of the place) I do think it is well worth it. Where else do you get to have bull sharks swim a foot and a half away from you, right overhead? Well, the ocean, obviously, but with the small tactical difference that they'll also want to chew you into little pieces, so I vote for the Oceanarium, if it's all the same to you.
Also some very cool displays of comb jellyfish, a very lively octopus, some whacking-great leopard fish or something and other diversions both massive and minute.
The real shame is that, because of the thickness of the glass, it is damn hard to get photos or video. I have nevertheless tried, but I ended up deleting most of the shots I got - but I still have a couple of videos of manta rays and various other things, and if I can upload stuff from wherever I hang my hat in New Zealand then I'll bring the best of them; all of them from India, Indonesia, Australia and everywhere else; to you, my lovely readers

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I do believe I took most of a day off after that, just aimlessly wandered the streets around here, took a train to the city and mooched around then took a train to a station I surmised was near the beach - I took a complete guess on a stop called Bonbeach on the line adjacent to the one I use to get into and out of the city - and was pleasantly surprised by my choice as it led right onto a near-deserted stretch of sandy shoreline that would have been a marvellous place to lay down and relax, if only it wasn't the middle of Winter. Still, there was a nice girl I chatted to in a shop for a while, then paid for my beer and went for a train back. Now throughout all of Melbourne - all through the state of Victoria for all I know - it is illegal to drink on the street at any time.

This means you can't really drink anywhere, least of all train stations, but still I owed it to a spirit of international enquiry and all that stuff to try and, if nothing else, get a bead on local police response times. Unfortunately for all of you hoping for a juicy tale it seems Melbourne police either don;t give a rat's arse or actually have proper work to do, or someone might have just nicked the batteries out of the remote control back in the station house, and all the CCTV surveillance screens are switched eternally to Fox News.

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The day after, possibly the one after that (have I lost a day somewhere? If someone can go back and count that might help. I've been here for eight days by the time I wrap this up - is that right?) I went to the Royal Botanic Gardens and had a good old amble and mooch around those, and they are indeed absolutely fantastic. They're also free. It seems Melbourne actually rewards the cheapness of its visitors, in one sense, as if you skip the aquarium you really have got the best three things in the city (the Museum, Botanic gardens and the soon-to-be-visited Fitzroy gardens) for a total of just six bucks, or three English pounds. Spot on.
The Botanic gardens were mostly planted up about a hundred years ago and things have been allowed to flourish gloriously. There are gigantic tropical trees, tree ferns over 30 feet high, creepers and climbers and gigantic buttressed roots not equalled in my eyes since Cambodia, and huge, lush lawns spattered with languising visitors, but for the most part deserted and beautifully tranquil. It's just a shame I had a bit of a hangover and couldn't really smile too much without the evil pixies pitchforking my brain, but it was just about the best thing I could have done in that state anyway, and if I wasn't getting a greyhound (the bus, not the dog) to Canberra on Tuesday morning then I'd gladly languish there myself amid the oak collection, or the species rose garden, or around the cacti house or drifting aimlessly through the rainforest walk.
It's a seriously nice location to do absolutely nothing.

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Which almost brings us up to date, because after that yesterday I came back, had some wine, became disenchanted with everything here - the guys in the hostel are all nice, friendly and amiable, but rather too inclined to sit in front of the television all day and do nothing, which I just can't stand.
I've nothing against TV, just most of the things on it, and even thoguh I'm a film geek of the first order I could not bring myself to sit and even watch movies when I'm only in the country for a short time.
In defence of everyone else, though, they are here to work and msot have been here for months already, although after a brief questioning not many have done much in the way of seeing stuff, which I think is a huge shame. I'll be the first to admit I was boarding myself up in a few places in Asia, but only really when I hadn't anything major left to see, and when I was more than a little bit ill anyway.

So returning from the Botanic Gardens and after an evening of nothing much, I got a bit pissed off with it all and decided I needed to be aroound my own people, so I went and asked in the nearby bars on Chapel street for the best rock and heavy metal club in town. Yes, I'm one of those dirty bastards
I found a place, caught a taxi, went in and a saw a great band, bought their T-shirt and CD, and then got kicked out by the bouncers for being too drunk. Well, really. I'm fairly sure I didn;t even vomit on anyone, although if truth be told I remember nothing beyond meeting the band and chatting with them, pocketing the loot and heading to the bar and then a muffled half-hearted aergument with the bouncers as they were ejecting me, the gits.
Oh well. Meh.
I do believe I walked home after that which would explain why I arrived, very very drunk, at about 3am, much to amusement of the Irish guys who live here who were also very, very drunk. I have only their word for it of course as that much I do not remember, but it all seemed rather good, and at least they weren't watching bloddy television

And so I am here, 10pm on a Sunday and loosely planning my last day in Melbourne tomorrow. I shall go to Fitzroy gardens, have another good look around Federation Square and actually have a meal out in a restaurant, something I've not done yet. I think I'll go to Chinatown in fact as I have heard it's rather good.

So, for now, toodle-pip!!