Easter in Melbourne

I decided I needed a change of scenery so I spent a few days down in Melbourne over Easter.
Melbourne is one of those cities where I feel instantly at home.
Glasgow, Fethiye, Wellington, Nuremburg, and London are other cities that I have instantly grown an attachment to.
The opposite would be places such as Las Vagas which make my skin crawl.
My home town of Sydney is notorious for being sunny but soulless.
Melbourne is known for being cultured and damp.
Good Friday morning was cold and wet and swathed in cloud when I left my flat and caught the bus to the airport.

While I was in Melbourne I enjoyed three straight days of bright sparkly solar radiation.
Some folk reckon that global warming is to blame for this topsy turvey weather.
If this is true, then Melbourne and England will become known for being ‘fun in the sun,’ while Sydney and Spain will assume the mantle of ‘soggy Sao.’
I had arranged to meet a local I knew from the Internet in the city centre, and not finding anyone waiting, zapped off a SMS.
They replied to my cheerfully probing text message, by pleading a hangover, and extending an offer for me to hang out at their place in the suburbs until I could check into my hotel at two (they sent me detailed instructions on which train to take where.)
I’d been in motion since five that morning and having postponed so far, ignored the fast food chains, and hunted up a proper ‘greasy spoon’ called the Blackjack (run by a very cute Asian family,) and scoffed a serving of bacon and eggs on toast, accompanied by a very fine mug of coffee.
With a full belly, and a system charged with caffeine, I approached the foreign train station.
Nice building. Had a proper ‘modern Euro’ feeling about it.
I was standing in front of the ticket machine in the train station wearing my ‘humm, how does this work’ face when a guy walking past offered me his ticket which was valid  till lunch (nothing like this sort of kismet for nurturing in one an affection for a place.)
One of the nice things about traveling is re-learning things, such as how to board a train. The doors on the carriages down there don’t open auto-magically. They require the effort of arm to yank them open.
To be continued…