Melbourne

Right then, more about Melbourne.

Well, flights leave Sydney for Melboure every half an hour, and the plane down here was a Boeing 767 and it was almost full, so you can imagine how important this city is and how it comptetes with Sydney for trade and commerce. The last time I flew in such a big plane from city to city was in a Boeing 747 laid on to transport cricket fans from Sydney to Perth, so I was surprised to the amount of traffic between Sydney and Melbourne.

And the other thing to mention about that is that the flight between Sydney and Melbourne is apparently the most expensive air ticket in the world, mile for mile. I'm not sure why this should be the case, but suspect it might have something to do with all the female Sydneysiders going on shopping jaunts with the credit card and returning with loads of heavy bags and shoes, you know, so they have to load up with extra fuel. Remind me to ask the bloke on the Qantas desk next time I'm checking in.

Anyway, we're staying to the west of the city centre and the approach into Melbourne itself isn't exactly inspiring. They say it's very European-feeling, but from this angle, the only bit of Europe it reminds me of is the arse-end of Manchester. In the rain.

But when we arrive in the city and park the car, then yes, we have to admit it's all very European-looking and there's all these grand buildings and trams and if it weren't for the drizzle and the western approach road then we'd be in love with it already, in a funny European kind of way.

"The thing is" I said to Darren, "Yeah, it's got all these buildings that remind you of Barcelona or Edinburgh or Paris, but God, why don't they think up their own style instead of trying to emulate Europe? And anyway, if Europe's so great, why not stay there?"

"Well Australia doesn't have a style does it? It doesn't have a culture beyond the aboriginal stuff. The people here are European, so they're just re-creating what they're familiar with and what they admire. It's understandable really".

I know what he means, but still it all feels a bit weird, a bit unsettling, like I'm in Europe but then again, no, I'm most of the way to Antarctica.

The real problem lies elsewhere. It's not like Australia, I think to myself. It's like someone's picked me up and dropped me in Edinburgh, which reminds me I have to go home in less than eight weeks, and though I long for my home and my friends, actually, I can't imagine not being in Australia anymore.