If you stick to the main streets of Melbourne it appears to be a fairly average city with the same shops and offices you'd get anywhere else. BUT (using grammatical incorrectness for dramatic effect here), wandering into the little alleys and 'laneways' you really get a feel for the soul of the place. Dozens of miniature independent espresso bars and cafes line the narrow alleys, with customers and tables spilling onto the streets. The chilly air is filled with the smell of coffee and the sound of a busker jamming some jazz. All of your instincts are turned upside down as the most graffiti stained, dingiest alleys often contain the very best restaurants in town including Jamie Oliver's Fifteen, and last night's MoVida. Gordon Ramsay is soon to be opening in Melbourne too, it's a great place for those who love good food.

The former Customs House is now the Immigration Museum, committed to telling the story of how Australia was populated. It explores some of Australia's past attempts to conceal outright racist policies, including the Dictation Test. Immigrants would be ask to write down a fifty-word sentence dictated to them in English. Then, depending on whether or not the guard liked the look of you, in French, then Dutch, then German, ad infinitum. My terrible handwriting would have had me knocked out at the English stage I suspect.

I get a good view of the city from atop the Rialto tower, which otherwise provides the usual tall tower experience with coin operated telescopes, penny pressing and a novelty postbox.

The train is delayed on the way back. An Australian woman nearby complains "it's always like this when it's raining, in England it rains all the time and the trains work just fine." I quietly chuckle as I recall the number of "in (insert country you've never been on a train in here) the trains are always perfect" conversations I've heard in England.