So it was on to the home of Neighbours, my old Clapham flatmate Lisa and my Mum's stomping ground before she moved back to the UK in the 1960s...

Had such a lovely time with Lisa and Tim - why oh why did you have to move back to the other side of the world guys?! The girls had excited verbal diahorrea all weekend (those who have met the lovely Lise will know she can talk for Australia) whilst the boys discussed the necessary accumulation of boys toys when living in Australia. The wine was flowing, the food was delicious... It was just like being in Wix's Lane again...

Now before we left, my Mum had given me an incredible list of all her old haunts, road names, swimming pools, dates she'd been to places (she's a cute but eccentric historian remember) so I had the camera at the ready for every Flinders St Station sign and tram number to jog her memory further when I get back. And of course one place I had to visit was her cherished old house... Tim was familiar with the area so we drove around looking out for Torrington Place. Numbers 2, 4, 6 passed - onto Number 8... er... it was a building site. Sorry Madre but some fatcat developer has bought your old bungalow and knocked it down to build a whopper. Now who would work for those sorts of people eh?

I also promised Mum that we'd make a trip down the Great Ocean Road through her old family holiday destinations. One of those places is near to Anglesea and Torquay (could the English not come up with new names back then?!) - Point Roadknight. Not normally on the tourist map but with Mum's local knowledge, it is in fact the location where Madge lost Harold to the waters of the Southern Ocean. Yes indeed, we're talking about Neighbours and that moment when he disappeared from our screens only to reappear as a Salvo years later. Bit like the lost canoe man - only no money stashed in Panama. Obviously we re-enacted the scene with Atkinson starring as Madge - 'Harrrrrrrrrold!'. No joke - it's a windy washing machine out there and it was a hairy moment when Ant stepped into the jelly belly's shoes.

Back on safe soil it was time for the start of the Australian Open and with Murray taking to Centre Court, we landed ourselves with some last minute seats. None of this ballot rubbish. Loads of fun and to make it feel just like Wimbledon, it rained and rained all day. Sadly no Cliff Richard in sight though.