March 7

My watch woke me, even though it makes very little noise, and I was able to kill the main alarm before it shouted at me. By 4am I was staring through the kitchen window, awaiting the shuttle, which arrived on time, almost to the second.

Sort of artistic	Dark and deserted streets

As we drove through the dark and deserted streets, the driver entertained me with tales of the intermittent fault with his engine. Not a reassuring start to the trip. I attempted a few photos, some of which did show the darkened streets and one of which was quite artistic but of no informative value.

We arrived safely at the airport, the engine behaved itself on this trip and I was checked in within about five minutes of arriving. Quite a change from the 45 minutes on my Christmas trip. At 04.45 there was more activity in the terminal than there normally is at 7pm on a Saturday night. There were lights everywhere, open cafes and people wandering around. Immigration was quick and painless and, for the first time, I entered the new International Terminal.

Whilst the exterior panelling means little to the traveller, the circular interior is pleasing to the eye and there are lots of comfortable padded benches. There is also an area of more traditional airport design which, presumably, handles the overload at busy times.

The older seating area	Mojo coffee - a good start to the day

The Mojo coffee was excellent and the barista charming. What an excellent start to the trip. Remembering that I should change my phone to display Melbourne time, I played with the buttons and discovered that the time zone it recognised was entitled Sydney and Guam so my phone display is now quite exotic. I doubt that the Victorians would have been amused.

The flight left on time, was cramped and a bit bumpy but all went well. I even dozed for a while. Having told us that we would arrive half an hour early, the driver then announced that due to road works on the runway at Melbourne, we would have to go round and round in circles for a while. This would result in us only arriving a few minutes early. This we did in a fashion that would have graced a Wellington landing. Melbourne obviously has interesting winds.

Within about 20 minutes of landing, I had cleared immigration, collected my bag and cleared customs. Not bad at all!

The airport bus arrived and departed as I was purchasing my ticket but the next one arrived a few minutes later. The driver stuffed people on board as best he could - it was completely full by the time we left - and we made reasonable progress into the city through heavy traffic.

Once out of Southern Cross Station (formerly Spencer St), I fought my way into the teeth of a strong wind up the hill to the Hotel Atlantis. This would normally have taken about five minutes but the wind and the suitcase doubled that. In spite of everything, the time from touch down to arrival in the hotel was about an hour and a quarter. Quite remarkable for a city the size of Melbourne.

The hotel welcomed my suitcase but not me - hardly surprising at that hour of the morning - so I abandoned all that I didn’t need for a day of sight seeing and wandered off again.

Best Western Atlantis Hotel	Southern Cross Station
Southern Cross Station	Not a bad coffee

Retracing my steps down Spencer St, not the prettiest part of the city, I returned to the station, where I took some pretty photos of the splendid roof, the trains and other such things, extracted some money from out of one machine and a weekly transport pass out of another.

Feeling in need of a rest, I crossed over onto Collins St and had a quite respectable coffee.

I boarded a tram and worked out how to use my ticket, then saw a Post Shop and leapt off again. Stamps are quite expensive here, $1.45 for a postcard anywhere. Later experience showed that I should have bought a ready stamped card as that would have saved me a few cents. By the time you discover such things, it is normally too late.

	Not having any particular plan, I meandered into one of the alleyways which characterize the inner city. This contained a pub and some interesting looking restaurants. I decided that it looked a suitable area to visit in the evening.
Bank Place	The Mitre Tavern, Bank Place

Back down the hill is Flinders St Station, an architectural masterpiece, which had been cleaned since my last visit. I was in town just before the Commonwealth Games & assume it must have had its face washed for that. In the blazing sunshine which had appeared as the morning wore on, it was positively gleaming.
Flinders St Station

Alongside is the Tourist Office, where I collected more leaflets and some postcards. From there, I crossed the road to Federation Square, a new addition to the city scape. This is quite amazing, constructed over the railway yards and containing a mixture of cafes and galleries.

It also featured a gents’ loo which had musical hand driers. Modesty (and fear of arrest) forbade me from taking photos of them. “Now there’s a funny thing” as the late Max Miller used to say.

Federation Square

Feeling in need of a light lunch, I found a café offering Coopers’ Pale Ale and a beautifully fresh goats cheese salad (a Greek salad in all but name). It contained leaves, olives, tomatoes, cucumber etc and was one of the best of its kind that I have ever enjoyed. Federation Square is not the sort of place where I would expect to find such good but simple food. Right: Salad and beer - food fit for a king

The ferry trip to Williamstown was an experience - not always a pleasant one. I bought my ticket on the Northern side of the river & the nice lady told me that it would be easier if I walked the five minutes to the other bank - right in front of the Langham Hotel - to embark. I dutifully did as I was told and waited with a few others for the boat to arrive.

When it did, about 20 minutes late, it was old, small and shabby. A large party of elderly Italians arrived and grabbed all of the seats on deck, leaving the other passengers (including a couple of noisy English children) to go below decks with the fume emitting engine. Photography was severely impaired by the grubby state of the windows.

The boat arrived	Princes Bridge
Below decks	Getting crowded down below

There were tug boats, big boats and absolutely huge boats (or ships for those in the industry). The motorway passed overhead on a huge viaduct, which I think I have driven over on a previous visit, and we eventually arrived at the mouth of the river and Hobsons Bay.

We disembarked at Williamstown, in a pleasant marina and outside a posh looking hotel. It then deteriorates and the main street has definitely seen better days. Some of the buildings appeared more than a little crumbly with plaster spalling off the facades.

There was a street full of beautiful old cottages, many with overgrown gardens and mostly displaying posters requiring someone to “Save Williamstown”, complete with pictures of a wreckers’ ball. It would appear that there are plans to re-zone part of the town as development land. Something needs doing to the place but probably not what will eventually happen.

Cecil St, Williamstown

The Stags Head was in my guide and turned out to be a glorious old boozer, nothing much to look at from the outside but very welcoming on the inside. I had a couple of very cold beers - much needed in the growing afternoon heat - and a much needed rest.

The Stags Head, Williamstown

A chat with the landlady revealed that the redevelopment was mainly of the derelict port area so might not be such a bad thing after all.

Williamstown Station is a simple building, a couple of minutes walk away from the pub. I used my clever ticket again and waited ten minutes for a train back into the city.

Williamstown Station	Smart new train

When it arrived, it was very smart and quite busy as it was school closing time and filled up at every station with a new batch of uniforms. It has to be said that the children were reasonably well behaved - down to my standards as a school boy.

My room was very presentable although the view was minimal. The window along the corridor, by the lifts, offered a glorious vista across the railway to the Etihad Stadium and beyond. When it comes to it, I didn’t actually spend much time in my room so who cares about the view.

Not the most exciting of views	Spencer St in the evening sun

Outside, I had the usual problem of identifying the correct tram stop, eventually managed it, and caught a tram to Bourke St and The Mitre, the pub I had spotted in the morning. The outside was heaving, the inside was air-conditioned and very welcoming in the evening heat. I had a Coopers and contemplated where to eat.

The pub served big steaks or fried stuff, which didn’t seem right for the weather. The other cafes on the street mainly served pizzas. Round the corner, on Little Collins St, I found a small Malay café, negotiated with the waitress for some small dishes and a beer. The food arrived, all at around the same time, but in quantities perfect for my requirements. The rendang was warm rather than hot and the stir fried vegetables excellent. By the end I was full without feeling bloated. Not bad for a small café.
Beef rendang & vegetables	The Mitre Tavern, Bank Place