After the hot sun of yesterday, the cloud and drizzle promised by the TV weather lady dutifully put in an appearance.  A peek through the window by the lift showed this to be the case and also showed that it was a train spotter’s paradise.   Right: Train spotter’s paradise & Etihad Stadium

A café down Spencer St provided a toasted chicken focaccia and the chance to sit by the window and watch the world go by. It also gave me the chance to notice that my camera battery had dropped from three to two bars and that I had better return to the hotel to collect a spare. Better to be safe than sorry.

Breakfast	The world went by past the window

	As I returned to the tram stop, I watched one depart and then had to wait about 15 minutes for the next. At least four trams running on the other route passed me by, not to mention the one that wasn’t stopping for anyone. Once aboard, we crossed the city to the parkland on the east side, where I disembarked and walked through the park to the MCG. I paid $30 and joined about eight others for a guided tour.
This one was no good	Across the park to the MCG

Ironically, given the strength of the membership, the main financial backing for the ground comes from the Australian Rules supporters, who pour huge sums of money into the ground during the winter months.

The wicket was being ripped up by a number of the groundstaff, using a large machine, pick axes and various other implements. The cricket wickets are grown in metal trays and laid in position at the end of the football season. They are then removed at the end of the cricket season and the football turn is re-laid. This was what I was watching.

Flattening the divots with a pickaxe!	The players’ balcony
	From pitch level we gradually climbed up the stands, through the players’ balcony area and up into the gods, from where the view was panoramic.   From there we descended through the Members’ Dining Room (very grand), and past the library which has an almost unrivalled collection of sporting documents. Unfortunately, photography wasn’t allowed there.
The Members’ Dining Room

Further down were the players’ changing rooms, including the ice baths (a very nasty prospect). In various areas the walls were decorated with honours boards, artworks of varying sorts and so on and so on. Everything reeked of money - but in a very traditional sort of way.   Right: The changing rooms
The ice baths ...	... and how to use them

After an hour and a quarter, I was exhausted so did some quick souvenir shopping and then retired to the museum café for a cold drink and a rest.

Trying to do the National Sports Museum in the MCG basement immediately after the tour of the ground was a mistake. I was too tired to appreciate what was obviously a magnificent collection covering a whole range of sports, from cricket to cycling, Aussie Rules, soccer and athletics to name but a few. I did gain some pleasure from the small collection relating to the Melbourne Cricket Club, but the rest was too large for me to appreciate. After not too long a time, I gave up. I should have allowed a whole morning on a separate day.

Once outside again, I walked through the park, past the statues which encircle the ground, and out towards the Punt Road Oval. This had the builders in but looked a pretty substantial ground. It is now the home for Richmond Cricket Club but is only the training ground for Richmond Football Club.

The other game	East Richmond Station
Punt Road Oval	Older trams in Richmond

I got lost whilst trying to find my way under the railway lines so gave up and caught the train for one stop from Richmond to East Richmond, with the intention of walking or catching a tram to Little Saigon. No tram appeared but I was soon accompanied at the stop by a large party of Vietnamese tourists - more than would comfortably fit on one tram. I decided to forget the tram and to start walking.

The walk up Church St is reasonably steep as it passes through the increasingly gentrified area of Richmond Hill. The architecture is best described as “eclectic”, with a mix of old, old colonial and old peculiar.

An eclectic mix of buildings on Richmond Hill

Bridge Rd is a rag trade area, is busy and is congested. I sat on a pavement seat and ordered a coffee in a pretty red cup, which I drank whilst watching the people pass by. It was still dull & cloudy but pleasantly warm. Doing as little as possible seemed a very good idea after the exertions of the morning.

I collapsed on a tram until I reached Swanston St, the scruffy main street which runs North South in the city centre. It is full of reasonably sleazy tourist shops, similar to the scruffy end of Oxford St. It did provide a very small internet café, where I read a few emails, none of which were exciting.

The street also has some old arcades, the Town Hall and the amazing Manchester Unity Building, straight out of a Gothic novel. By mid-afternoon, everything ached so I trammed back to the hotel for a rest. After an hour and a half, a shower and a change, I felt somewhat better and prepared to venture outside again.
Manchester Unity Building. Could be Gormenghast

Another tram took me back into the city and I explored the Royal Arcade and then the Block Arcade. Both of them match anything that Piccadilly has to offer, with ornate decorations and exclusive looking shops.

Outside the Block Arcade, I found the city’s recognition of one of its most famous citizens, a woman recognised the world over for her style and breeding. It did seem a shame that all they could manage was a very narrow and rather scruffy alley.
Partial recognition ... but an insult to a gentile lady

Back on the tram to the end of the grid which encircles the city centre, I arrived at Parliament. This is a magnificent structure but is too wide to enable me to take a full photo without a very wide angle lens. Some of the detailing is wonderful.

Almost opposite is the Imperial Hotel, where I contemplated having a beer. Unfortunately, a large sign on the bar informed everyone that owing to a technical problem, there was no draught beer. I beat a hasty retreat.

They don’t have them like this in England	A dark and busy pub

Back down Bourke St is the Elephant and Wheelbarrow, a faux English pub. I failed there to buy a pot (small glass) of Coopers Pale as the barrel was empty, so had to content myself with a bottle of Coopers Sparkling, one of the world’s great bottled beers. The pub was dark and very busy.

Little Bourke St is Chinatown. I took the obvious photos and also some of the rather impressive buildings.

I had ventured up the side street which houses the Flower Drum, the restaurant in which I was scheduled to eat later in the week, (very understated and showing no signs of a menu on the outside, presumably to save the ambulance service from having to retrieve too many heart attack victims from outside), when I heard a demonstration passing along the main street. Camera in hand, I dashed about 50 yards and found a gaggle of militant females with red flags, a fleet of police cars and a few token males, demanding equal rights for someone. Last time I found a demonstration was in London. Perhaps I should become a proper photographer.

Demonstrating for or against something

Just as Little Bourke St is Chinatown, so Lonsdale St is Greektown. I found a restaurant listed in my guide book and claimed a seat. It was just as well that I had arrived reasonably early as the place was just about full well before I had finished eating.

Haloumi & Greek bacon	Mixed fish
Greek salad	Baklava

I had a reasonable meal of haloumi and Greek bacon, mixed fish and salad, and baklava, all washed down with a couple of glasses of reasonable Greek dry white and a coffee. As expected, the bill was considerable but nothing compared to what I anticipate for later in the week. The food was OK but I have had better.

My aches and pains of earlier had just about vanished as I wandered around the city. The intake of a considerable amount of food, however, had removed much of the spring from my step. When I arrived at the tram stop opposite the old General Post Office the clever electronic indicator board informed me that the next one was due in 13 minutes. I decided to occupy a bench for the duration.

Swanston St was busy	Taxis awaiting business

The time went quickly enough, the tram arrived and whisked me back to the hotel, where I was soon ticked up in bed.