This one’s for you, Sanj

Looking around I see excited faces, cheering and applauding. People that flank me on either side and in the rows in front and behind are Australian. And though I have no idea what AFL is (and nor do I care), it seems the entire convoy with me on this connecting flight do; very much so.

Leaving Christchurch and it’s clear to see the differences between these neighbours of the arse-end of nowhere. It’s also plain as day as to why just about every Kiwi I met is planning, saving or already en route here. Crikey mate, it’s bloody awesome.


Here’s the strange thing though; I’ve met lots of Aussies these past 9 months. And from old to young I’m afraid I’ll have to admit that I’ve not been all that keen. Some have stood out however, and taken the edge off my opinion from fermenting any further. I’ve heard tales of £3 Oranges and £8 pints, and stories of horrendous hostels and rude, crass locals that shout “fucking Pomm” in your face. Though as fearful of Australia as I had become, it trumps New Zealand in every way and this city for one – is certainly one of the best I’ve stepped foot in.

Picture if you will, a population of happy-when-drunk locals (as opposed to degenerate fighting proletariat), friendly and helpful people only too happy to talk (as opposed to looks of bewilderment and fright if asked a simple question), beautifully designed and maintained buildings and infrastructure (as opposed to winding narrow streets of cobbled terrain and old grey grade-one listed horrors), and – most crucially – a multicultural society that positively thrives on it’s differences; welcome to Melbourne.

With incredibly rich hillbilly-like miners to the West ensuring the economy hasn’t been touched by the world financial crisis, comes the great power of the AUD. So expect straight away to be utterly shocked in to starvation and fasting after arrival (eat every scrap of that meal and keep asking for apples until you’re full). Do not bring any food, wood or seeds of any kind and declare at Customs – well I declared just about everything I had, considering the warning signs of impending fines and imprisonment if caught. Step in to the airport and fancy a snack? How does at least a fiver sound for the most basic sandwich on offer. And this is the Yang of Australia’s Yin; it’s a bloody great place mate, but it is indeed awfully expensive. A bottle of Coke for examples comes in at $3.90, which is more than twice the price of even Waitrose (I looked it up online, having paid a tenner for 24 hours wifi, which in itself would pay for a month of DSL back home). Japan has finally been trumped on expense.


Out in to the CBD and there’s plenty to see. Some people say they “don’t get” Melby; stating it’s simply Coffee shops, people watching and nowt much else. I disagree; there is plenty for around a week and cultural displays – be it a museum, exhibition or performance – are very frequent. True it is that coffee shops are everywhere, but this affliction is now commonplace for any major city, and come the evening it really comes to life. Gone is the “after 5pm it’s dead” mentality of New Zealand and instead it is replaced by the Asian-influence of late night shopping, eating, grabbing a coffee or just taking a stroll. The Asian influence stretches far and wide across Australia, with Television, children’s cartoons, comics and other media demonstrating a clear following. Relaxed too, is the general population; laid back and easy going with cars stopping for any human with a foot in the road and most people happy to take time over things. What stark contrast this is to the history and roots of the country and a wondrous place indeed.

To the immigration museum and it’s a lot to pay for such a small history of the non-Aboriginal origins. Little is spoken of the latter sadly, though a relatively recent resurgence of interest in the roots of the indigenous population has ensured some semblance of reparations are being made. Federation Square thankfully offers free wireless within its boundaries, which is gratefully received and the Tim Burton exhibition of strange innuendo-inducing drawings is good for a few hours if you don’t mind the hoard.


Four nights, plenty of wandering around, dinner with a mate and plenty of conversation with randoms and I’m left a little shocked. I was dreading visiting the place, though with misconceptions swept firmly to one side, it has to be said – Australia, I’m a fan. On to Cairns.