The next day of the camper van adventure was by far the most cultured. We rose early with a hectic schedule, and cracked straight on at 9am. We drove for about an hour to a place which had a mini-golf course, but it wasnt quite open yet. We instead drove 100 yards down the road and came across a chocolate factory, complete with the glorious words "free tasting within". Not that we are the shyest lads or anything, but we knew one or two things from the off, a) we had no intention of buying any chocolate, and b) we had to look interested in buying it, or else we couldnt stock up on the free stuff.

We nonchalently strolled in, and were met by three enormous pots of miniture chocolate buttons, in dark, milk and white varieties. We took a very reserved sample of each one before moving on to see if there were any other samples around, whilst of course maintaining discipline and occasionally shouting across to one another who we thought back home would like certain varieties in the shop, especially when a staff member was near by. This diffused the suspicion a bit, and allowed us to get a good few handfuls of buttons without yet being evicted. We'd had enough of looking at what we couldnt afford to buy, so in a brisk, military style, we both made for the door, via the free buttons, scooping enough between us to start a small franchise before bursting out laughing and gorging on them for the next half a mile! Chocolate factory, done.

Next, we headed back to the golf but still no luck, and we saw a sign for a cheese factory, offering yet more free samples. The factory was big, the tasting room and shop was very small, and deserted, so less tomfoolery this time. We tased a variety of cheddars, brie, camembert and feta and saw on the shelf a packet of mini toast-shaped crackers. Both Smithy and I took a particular fondness to the port-infused cheddar, so we bought a chunk of it, along with the mini toasties and moved on. We did have to laugh though when thought of what the Murphy lads might be eating for breakfast in that Grease-house in Stratford, and we're there tasting cheeses on private farms pretending we were Lloyd Grossman!

Eventually we got back to the golf place and it was open. It was mini-golf, but unusually, the clubs and balls were solid plastic. It was difficult to begin with, obviously I am not used to hitting the ball in the rough ;-) but after a while we both got in to it, and the day started to heat up. Theres no need to document who won is there Smyth? lol Next stop, a brewery. Set on about 300 acres of farmland, this tidy little brewery called Wikid Ale produced all its own beers and ales on site, and once inside you could see the process in full flow. When you think about how popular beer is, its a wonder it ever got invented, the process involves at least 5 or 6 stages, and fuses together some very off-beat ingredients like Barley, Hops and Malt. We invested in a $10 tasting tray between us, sampling 5 different beers whilst reading their descriptions. We both came to the conclusion that the descriptions were useless, they were 5 beers, and we either liked them or we didnt!

We attempted to call into a winery and vineyard, and to sample some wines, but we had 2 problems. Firstly, we had the camper van, and due to the nature of the region (86 wineries in all) the police are very hot on drink driving and the limit is a far lower threshold than England. Secondly, we were both dressed like tramps, had heads on us like cabbages, and they could tell from a mile away that we had no intention of buying any serious wines! Instead we drove half an hour up to another brewery, and sampled another tasting tray in the sunshine. Brilliant. We stopped for lunch at a random little beach in the sunshine, and unpacked a feast; chicken and champagne pate, port infused cheddar cheese with miniture toasties, last nights leftover pasta bake, ham and cheese sandwiches, and fizzy cherry stuff. I swear if he wasnt ginger i would have proposed there and then in the deck-chairs!! That evening, we drove up the coast to Busseldon and hit the bodyboards for a few hours, (WBBC fast approaching now) watched the sunset, and then drove on up to Bunbury, our last stop before home.

Bunbury was a nice town, by far the biggest since Albany, and equally lots to do. The place is renowned for dolphins, and even houses the W.A dolphin exploration centre. We had heard of a particular section of beach which the dolphins have been known to frequent, and set up camp at 8am on the beach. By 12 noon, we'd still had no luck, although quite a large crowd had formed. Some of the crowd headed out on sightseeing dolphin tours, and when they returned, informed us that they had seen hundreds of dolphins in the bay, and in the adjacent bay. Rather then, than do the sensible thing and shell out a few quid for the tour, Smithy and I decided to put ourselves in the middle of a cross between Free Willy and Twister, chasing around like madmen bay to bay with bi-noc-u-laaars chasing everywhere for a chance to jump in with the dolphins. By sunset, we were a tank of diesel and 100 dolphins down, no sign. Then we realised that at some point, Smithy had lost his camera. This was devastating, almost all the pictures from the week gone, and a few funny videos too, but at least I had mine so all was not lost.

That night at midnight I turned 22, Smithy organised a shout-out from the demonic looking nutcase lead singer with a mullett better than mine, just as the clock struck twelve. Party on. We also met a black south african guy who had fled Cape town because he had been shot at at a set of lights, shot back, and was then persecuted. The guy had also spent 8 years living in Sligo and Cork, and knew all around Bantry and Skibereen, and he even put on his best attempt at an accent for us! Top lad. The next morning it was time to return to Perth, a short drive from Bunbury. We cleaned all the stuff out of the van and had to say goodbye to the trusty old wagon, emotional business. The best was yet to come though, as we were able to retell the stories to the lads back in the hostel and spend the afternoon remembering the week. That night everyone at the hostel headed out to town, but due to their generosity at the fact of it being my birthday, I sadly had to retire just after midnight. Memorably unrememberable I think we could call it. Smithy was then back to work all week, so from monday to wednesday, me and a few of the lads Colin, Dougal, and the stupid Maple leafer lover- Josh, (haha you D-gen) crushed ourselves under the unusually high waves at Scarborough beach, messed around watching Rocky at 9am, and generally conversed on the beauty of being a) off work, b) in australia c) not in england and d) 22 (apart from old man colin who is about 35 no one really knows).

I flew into Melbourne yesterday at 6am, after about 3 hours sleep from the night before, which meant when I arrived in the city, about 2pm local time, I needed a good 3 hour sleep before I did anything. The hostel is exeptionally nice, well organised, clean and spacious, with plasma TVs, its own bar, internet and even a nightclub below it. The only problem is the size of the place: its huge, so unlike previous hostels where you are forced to talk to people and it generally happens naturally, here it is more of an effort. Today though I have had a good walk around the city and I like it very much. I needed a few bits and pieces to wear (and some shoes, the last ones died in Denmark) and headed for Brunswick Street. Now, if you can imagine a combination of Carnaby Street and Camden Market, yellow New York taxis and trams from Blackpool, then you can see Brunswick street. The shops are retro and funky, the people diverse and the food, great. Roya, Siof, Raj and Mr Miller would be especially at home here, as would Dermot as there was a huge home for down-and-outs at the top of the highstreet!! I got a few bargains and headed back in to town.

The Melbourne international comedy festival is currently ongoing and closes sunday. I managed to grab the second last seat for a show featuring the best of the edinburgh festival tonight at 8.30 in the Melbourne Theatre which should be a cracker. I need to check out St Kilda, so thats the plan for tomorrow, and on Sunday I am going to the MCG to see Aussie rules footy match between two huge local rivals, which theyve deemed "Grudge Sunday" over here so that should be good too. After 3 weeks with the ginger gypsie its strange not having a mate with you know, but i think 4 days on my own will be good before Sydney. Anti-socialism- here I come xx