Farewell Melbourne

After a couple of false starts, where we found the restaurant closed at breakfast time - the lack of consistency in opening hours only adds to its SE Asian credentials - we finally got back to Fina vegetarian Vietnamese café this morning. In the friendly and comfortable environment, K ordered the bún hue that I had last time, while I got outside of an enormous bowl of vermicelli rice noodles and spring rolls that is bún chả giò chay.

World's finest cuisine

Satisfied at having made a return trip to our favourite Melbourne eatery before leaving, we spent the rest of the day we had before a short internal flight to Sydney investigating the corners of the city we had not yet visited.

South of the river is home to many arts and performance venues. With limited time, we proceeded straight to the Australian Centre for Contemporary Art (ACCA).

It's art, Jim

Albeit a small venue, it manages to make the most of its size through clever installations. The works transcend physical installations and start to play with space as a concept. For instance, one piece comprised a modified wall of the gallery itself (much like Salcedo's crack through the Tate's Turbine Hall) and reveals the history of the arts centre like the rings of a tree. Other works transform themselves over time, such as a tub of rotting food.

Erstwhile food

Another installation reflects both the visitors, the gallery, and the other artworks back at the viewer through a strategically placed camera and projector. A shrug of the shoulders given by an 'invigilator' (docent) as part of an interaction with a member of the public are part of another 'invisible' installation, while yet another piece goes beyond the confines of the gallery itself, and uses pocket works that are 'displayed' to people on travels outside of the building - the tales of which will be brought back to the gallery in the fullness of time.

Visiting the toilet before departing the ACCA, I found myself still in the mindset of questioning and appreciating everything as art. The design challenges the concept of a traditional toilet and there was a brief moment when I thought there were no actual functioning facilities and I would be asked to imagine the act of relieving myself and seek a genuine WC elsewhere.

Farewell Melbourne 

After a farewell drink of hot chocolate and salted caramel at Ganache Chocolate, we picked up our bags and made our way by tram to Southern Cross station, where the Skybus was waiting to take us to Melbourne airport at Tullamarine.

Our short internal flight to Sydney was operated by Jetstar - the Easyjet of Australia. Even the orange livery is the same as the UK budget airline, as though this colour were somehow indicative of low cost and no frills.

Our farewell meal came courtesy of the airport departure hall cafeteria. We both chose hoi sin stir-fried tofu with rice, which I washed down with a pint of Fat Yak.

Yak & Tofu

Sadly, with an early flight tomorrow morning, we had no time to explore again the city, so we settled down to our overnight accommodation at Sydney airport's Ibis Budget hotel.

Working in the Lab Late One Night

Bad timing this morning meant that we failed yet again to get to our new favourite vegetarian Vietnamese restaurant for breakfast. In Vietnam, any self-respecting pho shop would be open from around 6am, but in laidback Melbourne, nobody seems to have breakfast until 10am. Still, the neighbouring café had opened already and promised us a vegetarian phở, despite the fact that this did not appesr on the meat-focused menu.

Phở surprise

Despite my doubts, a most excellent bowl of noodle soup arrived that threatened to defeat us both with its sheer size.

Melbourne was set up on Port Phillip at a time when it was illegal (according to the Sydney-based colonial government) to set up a new colony there. John Batman was the enterprising individual who signed 'treaties' with aboriginals of the region to claim territory and landed with 350 people from Tasmania to set up the new colony. Capt. William Lonsdale was dispatched from Sydney to govern the new settlement and the rest was history.

To discover this origin story as well as the rest of Victoria and Australia's history, we headed to Melbourne's Immigration Museum. Here we learned that what started out largely as a British penal colony naturally presented opportunities to people from all over the world, not just from Britain.

However, the resident white folk soon took against the influx of other people and put in place a series of measures to 'disincentivise' further unwanted immigration. In 1855, a £10 tax on Chinese immigrants was introduced as just such a measure. In 1888, the term "White Australia Policy" was coined to draw attention to the tacit whitening of Australia, while in 1903 the Naturalization Act prejudiced against the settling of any non-Europeans or Asians. A 'dictation test' was set, ostensibly to ensure that any immigrants would be able to integrate well, but in practice was used to excluded 'undesirables' at the discretion of the enforcers. The test could be set in any European language, and in one tragically comic situation was used to bar a political activist and polyglot, who was repeatedly retested and eventually failed under one of the few languages in which he was not conversant, Gaelic.

The emphasis on maintaining "British values" in the colony and giving incentives to white British immigration was unashamedly apparent well into the 1950s. 1949's Naturalization and Citizenship Act aimed to level the obvious bias, but British immigration was still clearly favoured.

On second thoughts...

In 1970s, Australia took refugees from Lebanon, Chile, as well as the Vietnamese boat people who arrived at their shores. Today's Australia is much more multicultural, but the museum still had many examples of modern-day racism against non-whites.

Hello Bruce!

After the museum, we took a walk along the developments on the Yarra river. Southbank and the wharf development aim to capitalise on the warmer weather. Today it was windy and cloudy, but the mugginess meant that we still indulged in an ice cream on the way back.

We returned to St Kilda and the Local Taphouse for a 'meet the brewer' event that we saw advertised on our visit yesterday. The guys from local KAIJU! beers were putting in an appearance at what turned out to be a regular event and a club where everybody seemed to know everyone else.

Monster Bros.

KAIJU! are largely two brothers, Callum and Nat - the former the business head, schooled in the wine industry, while the latter is the duo's Heisenberg, mixing up the crystal (malt) to create big, malt- and hop-forward beers - the kind that were described by the folks at the event as "dank".

The history of the brewing duo is an interesting one. Callum originally started trading as a cidery under the name Monster Mash, producing the cider himself. Meanwhile, Nat was inspired by USA's Green Flash brewery and
Mike's Organic double IPA from neighbouring New Zealand and was plying his very successful homebrew using a modicum of knowledge from his science degree. Together, the brothers started brewing with a couple of fermenters at Cavalier - "it's more nomadic brewing than contract" - and haven't looked back.

Despite an arsenal of seriously good beers, the cider - originally branded as "Sirius Cider" but later called "Golden Axe", the game reference apparently being lost on Callum - still makes up around 60% of sales and "pays the bills". After a run-in with the lawyers from Monster Energy Drinks, the outfit was also quickly rebranded to the much cooler KAIJU!

Name changes aside, the relatively young operation has produced some excellent beers, four of which we sampled this evening. Nat is a self-confessed hophead - Chinook is a favourite, but Citra is largely a "no go" - and the enterprise is finding favour ploughing this particular niche. Everything we tried, whether it be black, red, golden, big (Cthulhu) or bigger (Where Strides the Behemoth), described itself as an "IPA". Sours, stouts, and other styles are apparently "in the pipeline" but Nat brews unabashedly to his own tastes. Popularity is eating up their capacity, and so they are currently expanding into their own space in Dandenong South to meet the demand. Next on the cards: an imperial version of Hopped Out Red - oh boy!

(I Do Like to Be) Beside the Seaside

Church Street in Melbourne runs diagonally in a straight line from Victoria Street, at the east end of town, all the way to St Kilda - the nearby seaside getaway for Melburnians. Granted, its nme changes subtly to Chapel Street south of the Yarra river, but the 78 tram provides a straight run through from Little Vietnam to St Kilda and a good view of the many religious establishments along the route that presumably give it its name(s).

We took the 78 and hopped off the tram just north of the river for brunch at a spot recommended to us by our Canberran friends: Top Paddock.

Despite being Monday 'brunchtime', the place was heaving, leading me to believe that nobody works or studies in Melbourne; rather, they endlessly meet in expensive coffee shops and eat smashed avocado and poached eggs.

I eschewed the smashed "avos" and indulged my sweet tooth with a blueberry ricotta hotcake, topped with berries, maple syrup and double cream, while K looked enviously on eating sugar snap peas, broccolini, poached eggs and toasted almonds on toast. My breakfast choice was clearly superior.

Ricotta hotcake

Taking the tram to the terminus led us into St Kilda. The atmosphere is very much that of a quaint British seaside resort. There is even a Victorian 'Luna' theme park with old rollercoasters and rides.

The Mouth of Fun

The beach and promenade provided an escape for those living in the city, certainly before the advent of the motor car allowed residents to travel farther afield, as it is easily reachable by tram.

We lay on the beach a while enjoying the warm sun - not always a fixture of its British counterparts - before venturing into the sea baths. The 'baths' - a very Victorian term - are more akin to a modern swimming pool, complete with lanes, but are filled with warmed salty seawater. However, there is a mineral bath area and sauna, allowing us to recuperate and 'take the waters'.

Pierless

A walk down the pier - of course there's a pier - led us to a small café incongruously advertising imported Peroni lager. However, what excited us most was the appearance of native 'little penguins' - that's really their name - one of which was busily drying itself off. This species grows to little more than a foot tall.

The littlest penguin

St Kilda is also home to a branch of the 'Local Taphouse'. This offered us a roof terrace on which to enjoy the sun as well as tasters of its wide selection of Australian and international beers.

Taphouse tasters

Of the selection, our favourites were Feral's iWit wheat beer and Red Hill's Double Barrel Temptation - a barrel-aged Belgian golden ale. To complement these, I ate quite the most decadent veggie burger the kitchen could generate, while K sought a "healthy pasta dish", which turned out to be a cheese topped linguine dish. I don't think a pub is the place for healthy eating.

Healthy eating St Kilda style

Wash Day and the Corpse Flower

Out of necessity and a rapidly shrinking selection of clean clothes, we joined the good Melburnians of Fitzroy in a Sunday morning routine: laundry and brunch.
Fortunately, the Soap Bar launderette made the experience a much more pleasant one than it could otherwise have been. Equipped with the kind of industrial stainless steel washing machines, of the kind familiar from American movies and Levi's advertisements, the Soap Bar is the kind of place that serves Vietnamese coffee, has comfy sofas, plays cool tunes and shows The Life Aquatic while you wait.

Cà phê sữa nóng at Soap Bar launderette

With newly laundered togs, we wandered down Brunswick Street, alighting on Ethos Café for brunch. The sun made a warming  appearance, so we settled on eating outside to the rumble of passing trams.

Brunswick breakfast

Our tour of the area continued through galleries and shops selling vintage clothes and 'upcycled' crafts. It is a fascinating and colourful area of town to while away an afternoon and offers endless inspiration.

Funky Brunswick St

Dropping the freshly laundered clothes at home, we elected to take the scenic walking route south via the Melbourne Cricket Ground and over the Yarra River to the Botanic Gardens.

Yarra River

It was here that we managed to catch (just) the final day of the blooming of amorphophallus titanum - its Latin name giving a suggestive indication to its shape.

Stench blossom

Better known as titan arum, or more infamously as the "corpse flower", owing to its odour when blooming, the enormous inflorescence only lasts  for a few days. The flower was in full bloom and stench yesterday, its smell designed to attract insects that will pollinate it. The botanists at the gardens have tracked its progress long before and, especially keenly, after it came to bud on 12th February, at which point it was not clear whether it would become just a leaf or the towering flower that we saw.

An enterprising company was setting up in the gardens for an outdoor film screening. This was a regular occurrence after dusk throughout the summer, but I thought that this time of year was pushing their luck, as the evenings were becoming cooler. Based on the temperature, but mainly the screening - Fifty Shades of Grey, which even the staff didn't seem interested in - we chose to return home.

Supper

The Baden Powell is closed on Monday, which meant we had no choice to join the revelry. Instead, I picked up a few beers and we settler in for a quiet evening with our own showing of Predestination - a magnificently Escheresque confabulation of a film - and the remainder of yesterday's picnic breakfast.

Insanity is the Mother of Invention

Having spent our first couple of days in Melbourne exploring the CBD, we resolved this morning to investigate the area north of town, including the colourful districts of Fitzroy and Collingwood.

We start by walking to the Queen Victoria Market with the intention of assembling a picnic breakfast.

First world marketplace

QVM is an indoor market of the kind in which each vendor had their own sealed unit, complete with glass display cabinets. It's all very orderly and unlike the rowdy outdoor kind - more like a little row of shops. We went from one little shop to another, eyeing the delicious and tempting food on display. A man offering samples of cheese got us started. We bought a chunk of his Maasdam goat cheese, which was sweet and nutty, then some creamy King Island ash brie, eggplant and capsicum dip, a black olive sourdough baguette, and, to top it all, honeyed figs stuffed with marscapone.

First world food

We took our spoils and ate them greedily in the park next to the museum. The sun was hot and the food rich.

Picnic breakfast

After our slap-up breakfast, we pottered around the streets of Fitzroy, spying a trendy little launderette-cum-café that we intend to use, and dropping into the Rose Street arts and craft market. Our time whiles away happily, until I noted that we needed to make a break for our next appointment - a brewery tour at Moon Dog at 2pm.

Where the magic happens

Moon Dog, in Abbotsford, was a fair stride away from Fitzroy, but we made it in time to grab a quick drink before the small tour.

I had a very refreshing watermelon wit (Bjorn to Boogie), while K had an exceptional beer called Breakfast of Champions. This is part of Moon Dog's single keg concept beers and was brewed with all the ingredients required for a bloody Mary - including the celery.

A fine line between genius and insanity

The tour involved stepping behind the bar with our server and guide, Matthias from Denmark. The brewery is tiny and largely uses recycled dairy equipment. The whole effect is wonderfully Heath Robinson with gaffer tape holding control boxes onto the vessels and generally keeping things together. Elbow grease supplements the low-powered motor on the mash tun that was designed for churning milk. Matthias said there is inertia against upgrading the equipment and, besides, the additional effort increases the reward at the end of the day. He recalled wistfully the day he cut all the watermelons with a penknife for Bjorn to Boogie. He did recognise that some mechanisation is useful, though, as he no longer has to prime the tanks with boiling sugar solution sloshed in from a bucket while standing on a rickety stepladder. The bottling line takes care of that now.

The line-up of beers at Moon Dog doesn't bear much resemblance to the usual 'pale, amber, something dark, maybe a pilsener' roster familiar from other breweries. Matthias noted that, as homebrewers, they recognise that making crazy stuff is just as much effort as making a boring pale ale, and is much more fun to drink. Most other brewers make a standard bestseller to "keep the lights on".

So good and varied was the selection that we stayed in the comfy taproom for much of the afternoon, under the watchful eye of John Goodman, who presides over the barrels ageing fourth edition of Black Lung, the smokey stout produced annually.

Touching perfection

Special mention must go to The Beard Down Under - a collaboration with John ("The Beard") from Oregon's Rogue brewery. It is a superlative, syrupy, raisiny toffee barley wine aged in rum casks that tasted well above its 9% abv.

After sampling the various and delicious intoxicating liquids, we required sustenance. Loving Hut was not far along Victoria Street and promised simple Asian vegetarian food.

Veggie Mongolian BBQ

The Mongolian BBQ, tom yum soup and dim sim dumplings were all right, but Fina - the Vietnamese restaurant only a few doors away - is a cut above.

Great Ocean Road

Today we took a guided tour along the Great Ocean Road.

Melbourne is situated on Port Phillip - an enormous bay that shelters the city from the Bass Strait, separating Tasmania from the mainland. However, heading west along the coast, one can look out directly onto the Southern Ocean, beyond which lies only Antarctica.

We can travel along this stretch of coast thanks to one man: Howard Hitchcock. During the post-World War I recession, he wanted to stimulate the economy and, presciently realising that the 'motorcar' would play a significant role in the future economy, he raised public funding to build a road - the Great Ocean Road.

Returning soldiers worked on carving out the road using manual tools and, in total, 3000 veterans were employed between 1919 and its completion in 1940. The road has subsequently been finished and widened, but a gate marks the place where the shovels and pick axes first cut the ground. The gate has been replaced several times after road widening, fire and storms.

Gonna build a road

Along the road, there were some very tame wild birds. One of the parrots, unbidden, took a liking to K's head and perched there for a good while. Others were rather more well behaved and stayed in the trees.

Not a dead parrot

Melbourne was an Australian 'free settlement', but before this prisoners were shipped from England to help establish new settlements. Our guide told us of one such prisoner, William Buckley, who was - according to him - wrongly accused of stealing a lady's scarf and was deported for a new camp on Port Phillip Bay. However, this settlement had trouble getting started and, when it was mooted that it would be moved to Van Diemen's Land (Tasmania), Buckley escaped.

Amazingly, Buckley survived. Having first attempted to walk the one thousand kilometres to Sydney, he gave up and was eventually captured by aborigines. Having stolen a spear marking the grave of a village elder (previously shot by white men), he was taken as a ghostly reincarnation of the deceased and assumed a privileged position in the clan. There he lived happily among the aboriginal people for many years. This, it is said, is the origin of the Australian phrase, "you've got Buckley's (chance)", meaning little or none.

View from Teddy's lookout

We stopped at Room Six in sunny seaside town Port Campbell for lunch and enjoyed a tasty and zingy rice salad.

Simple yet flavoursome

The winding ocean road hugs the coast for most of its 243km length, diverting only briefly inland. The area entering Bass Strait is known as "shipwreck coast", having claimed over 2000 ships in the years since Europeans started to navigate these waters. The passage is particularly narrow and the sea rough.

The Loch Ard is one particularly famous shipwreck. Of the 54 passengers on board, there were only two survivors after it crashed in fog and storm. Tom Spencer washed up in a gorge and managed to swim out to rescue a lady who had fallen unconscious. Fortunately, the ship's cargo had been spilled in the crash and the quick thinking man used a bottle of brandy to revive her.

A gorge

The remainder of the cargo was snaffled up by a man named Gibson, who went so far as to carve a set of steps into the steep cliff face down to the beach to help himself to the washed-up spoils. Gibson's steps are still there today and used to access the beach for stunning views of the natural sandstone outcrops.

Erosion in progress

The coastline in this area is being eroded at an alarming rate, being largely composed of sandstone with some clay and lime. However, sections of limestone calcified by the sea water resists erosion while the other softer sandstone material crumbles, leaving fingers of land that are carved into bridges by the waves. When the link to the mainland eventually collapses, isolated pillars of rock are left stranded at sea.

It is these pillars that characterise the last portion of the Great Ocean Road. Originally known as the "sow and piglets", when sighted from the sea, these structures have been renamed to the more tourist-friendly "12 Apostles", despite the fact that they are not (and probably never have been) twelve in number.

'Twelve' apostles

Our last stop was the powerful "wash basin", where the sea came crashing into the bay and churned into a foaming whitewash. It was a humbling experience to feel the raw power of the ocean at such close proximity.

Not sticking around for the spin cycle

Our return to Melbourne was late, so we elected to pick up some food en route. Oddly, in a town that seemed to consist entirely of one broad road lined by shops selling agricultural machinery, at least two Asian restaurants were doing a roaring trade. At a simple wok station, two chefs threw the contents of bowls prepared to the customers' requirements into the hot wok, stirred and poured the result into those little square cardboard boxes I always see on films and television but have not eaten from. I ordered char kway teow as a reminder of Malaysia, but the spice and flavour was sadly lacking in comparison to the real deal.

Six O'clock Swill

During the Vietnam War, many people fled the country by boat. Many of these arrived at Australia and found new homes there. In Melbourne, towards the east end of town, where Victoria Parade becomes Victoria Street, the area is home to many Vietnamese shops, restaurants and cafés. There is even a colourful abstract conical hat structure on entering the area ('Little Saigon'? 'Vietnamtown'?).

Welcome to Vietnamtown

In this area, we discovered Fina, an all-vegetarian Vietnamese restaurant. The offering was better than we had hoped, reprising all our favourite food and drinks from our stay in Vietnam, so we immediately ordered an avocado shake (sinh tố) and, my favourite, an iced coffee (cà phê sữa đá). K had bún măng chay (bamboo noodles) while I enjoyed bún hue chay. The food was magnificent and made us weirdly nostalgic for the beginning of our trip only five short months ago, only it came in larger portions, arriving in bowls big enough to bathe a small baby.

Raptures

People describe the weather in Melbourne as "fickle". Indeed, I overheard someone today announce that they had just arrived from Sydney (some 700km north) where the weather was sunny and warm. Today was fresh and started with a shower, and despite being warm in the direct sun, had a chill wind that caused the temperature to feel at least 15° cooler than yesterday. This discontinuity in the season's weather I have come to expect from the UK, so it was odd to experience it in the antipodes.

Having walked back into the CBD, we resumed our investigation of the centre with a tour of Fed Square. In its current form, it was designed and constructed to celebrate the centenary of the 1901 federation. It was to be opened in 2001, but as with many building projects, suffered from controversy and setbacks, finally being completed in 2002.

From the original design, the actual realisation suffers from a truncated visitors centre, so as not to obstruct the view of St Paul's, which was itself reimagined in 1926 with the addition of spires (contrary to the original design).

The other St. Paul's

Fed Square - a collaboration between London and Australia - is the cultural heart of the city, and it is said that many Melburnians cannot imagine the city without it. On any given day, there may be musical performances, outdoor screenings, yoga, meditation, dance or aerobics. It is a place for the community to meet, and is home to many cafés, restaurants, not to mention the ACMI and National Gallery.

Hanging out at 'The Fed'

Before the Square existed, it was a large set of railway tracks running into Flinders Street station. The tracks were consolidated but still exist beneath the Square, while the whole ground is suspended and sprung to absorb shocks from the trains rumbling beneath. Piled on top of this alarming structure are buildings of glass, zinc and stone, plus thousands of tiles quarried from the Kimberley's in northern Australia, transported to Melbourne and laid by Chileans. It is a phenomenal space.

Our guide led us to a secret space on the rooftop of one of the buildings which houses small patches which people can rent and plant whatever they like. At $25 per week for a crate, they aren't especially cheap, but I was heartened to see that some hops were growing for Little Creatures brewery.

Pop-up patches

The National Gallery is split into two buildings - the international collection resides south of the river, while the gallery of Victoria is on Fed Square. A well-spoken and knowledgeable volunteer guide took us round the permanent collection. Sadly, the aboriginal section was closed, so we toured the 19th century Australian artworks. Many of the earlier works were painted by English and Europeans emigrating to follow family or trying their luck at the gold rush. Those that could earned a small amount painting portraits and landscapes for the wealthy landowners (whether they be known as 'settlers' or, as our guide referred to them, as "squatters").

The gallery displays landscapes of Victoria and Tasmania painted by Eugene von Guerard and John Glover. However, with their foreign training and eye, the landscapes look wrong - the palette greens not blue enough for the outback, the shape of the trees more reminiscent of a English forest than the outback.

Later works by Australian-born artists depict the development of towns from penal colonies into prosperous cities. These are documents as much as art and show that many of the original buildings have been torn down and rebuilt in the short 150-200 year history of the place, even churches such as St Paul's.

A particular juxtaposition for me was the McCubbin triptych, celebrating the founding and federation of Australia through the hard work of the pioneers in clearing vast tracks of land in order to create small settlements and attract others, and the work of 20th century artist, John Brack, who depicts the modern city of Melbourne full of office drones. In the latter, the workers are no longer pioneering for themselves and their family; rather, they exit their grey workplace at 5pm and make their way to the pub for the "six o'clock swill" - a product of the strict licensing laws that meant the sale of alcohol after this time was prohibited - before getting the train home to their suburban life.

Work. Perhaps alcohol is the answer

The weather outside was no warmer than earlier in the day, so we called off an outdoor screening of, ironically, Frozen and had a 6pm swill of our own in Young & Vic's. The pub, opposite Flinders St. station, would have seen many office worker pass through its doors during the time of temperance and was no less full in these days of more relaxed licensing. The furnishings give the pub the look of a UK Wetherspoons - dark wood, brass and carpets - but sadly it does not have the prices to match.

With such extravagant drinking, our evening meal was necessarily cheap, but, at Om Vegetarian, that doesn't mean it can't also be tasty. For $6.50 we were presented with a thali of dal, curry, lime pickle, and pilau rice, with fresh naan brought round and refills available. We ate till we burst.

Naughtily, I insisted we stop by the Forester's Hall in Fitzroy, which is two streets from our hotel in Collingwood, for a night cap. After an apparent 'tap takeover' from US brewery Stone last month, the inside was emblazoned with 'merch', but little of the product. Instead, I had a magnificently hopped KAIJU! (capitals mandatory) Hopped Out Red Ale and K sank into La Sirène Praline, which tasted as though a whole box of Belgian chocolates had been stirred through it.

Black Sheep and Mountain Goats

Melbourne is the second most populous city in Australia, the "most livable city in the world", and one of the most expensive. The reason for its popularity (and hence its price) is that it is a city of art, culture, coffee and good food, where the quality of life is high. With no breakfast available at our otherwise superb pub-cum-hotel, we joined local Melburnians at a trendy morning eatery in the neighbouring Abbotsford district.

Breakfast

Breakfast at Three Bags Full saw us partake of a latte and a 'flat white' coffee, with a veggie breakfast for K and 'smashed avocado' with feta on sourdough toast for me. Smashed avocado - essentially guacamole - is terribly popular in Melbourne, presumably owing to the preponderance of the fruit. Although pricey, the breakfasts were both substantial and tasty. If it were possible to overdose on avocado, here is where it would be most likely to happen.

Holy guacamole

We walked off the hearty morning fare with an orienteering stroll through Fitzroy Park into the CBD. We proceeded along Flinders Lane, named after Capt. Matthew Flinders - a navigator and, later, cartographer, who in 1791 first voyaged to Australia at the young age of 17. In only his second visit, he discovered that Tasmania was an island set apart from the Australian mainland, the stretch of water between them being subsequently named Bass Strait after his companion, George Bass. His third voyage saw him circumnavigate Australia, investigations from which he used to draw up detailed maps, which were published in 'A Voyage to Terra Australis'. He even proposed the name 'Australia' for the continent. Truly, a remarkable man.

Reaching Federation Square, at the heart of the CBD and ajacent to Flinders Street railway station, we found a sensory overload. The square, much like the surrounding area is a clash of ultramodern and colonial architecture.

The old and the new

A quick perusal of the information centre revealed a catalogue of events and places to see. We reeled from this and wondered how we would ever manage to do justice to the cornucopia of Melbourne's delights.

Flinders Street station

Paralysed by choice of where to start, we went with the closest location and slid into ACMI - Australian Centre for the Moving Image. Here we stumbled onto Yang Fudong's exhibition 'Filmscapes'. This presented exquisitely shot film sequences - often using multiple cameras - in a spacious darkened gallery. The 'installation', New Colours, shot inside an artificial beach set with high-definition cameras, used actresses to mimic magazine-style glossy photographs - the subtle movement of their hair the only indication that this wasn't a still image. The images dripped with primary colours, in contrast to the restrained palettes of the other exhibits, and with sexual imagery - cacti, snakes, open tent flaps, sea shells - interspersed with the memento mori of rotting food and other processes of aging. Judging from K's reaction, she could write a thesis on it. That's what I get for marrying an English literature graduate.

Fudong at ACMI

We also viewed the permanent collection, which describes the advent of film and television, through to the current day, with a heavy emphasis on Australian talent and productions (step forward Baz Luhrmann).

Everybody wants to be good neighbours

After the calm presentation of Yang Fudong's artwork, this was an onslaught to the senses, which had me withdrawing from the room and into the darkness of the next-door theatre, in which Australian wartime newsreels and propaganda were being shown.

Emerging once again into the light of Fed Square, we collected ourselves over a coffee - another 'flat white' to be precise, which seems to be an antipodean reimagining of an Italian cappuccino with slightly less foam.

Melbourne CBD is on a grid, forming a rectangle on the northern bank of the Yarra river. Although the tram can be ridden for free within this rectangular zone - and indeed a circular tram patrols its periphery - we resolved to explore the centre on foot. This allowed us to walk through charming arcades linking the main thoroughfares Flinders St., Collins St., and Bourke St.

Single-occupancy Batmobile gets priority lane

Throughout Melbourne, one finds references to Batman - we spotted an avenue and a park. Despite initial assumptions, these are not named after Gotham's crime-fighting superhero, but are in honour of John Batman, who negotiated a controversial 'treaty' with the local aborigines (Kulin) for land in the Port Phillip area, which became the settlement that flourished into the capital of Victoria. Brilliantly, he named this settlement 'Batmania'.

I called our exploration of inner Melbourne to a close by late afternoon and had us head east on the tram to the end of town where the Yarra river winds its way northwards. Fittingly, just off River Street, in leafy Richmond (can't get used to these recycled names), we discovered the Mountain Goat brewery.

Goat people

With its doors open to the public only twice a week, the spacious bar was packed - the bar itself resting improbably under a pile of boxes. We had come for the brewery tour, the first session of which was already full, so we joined the second (which was also oversubscribed, necessitating a third).

During the wait, we sampled four tasters - an IPA, Hightail nitro amber ale, North street pale ale with fresh galaxy hops in "Randall" (the hopinator), and Surefoot stout.

All of the brews were good, but the standout was the inspiring tour by a former beer sommelier. Fresh and bouncing despite having just done the very same tour, our guide was incredibly knowledgeable and had an infectious enthusiasm.

Goat man

In addition to relating the brewing process, as well as Mountain Goat's specific set-up, he told the story of the two founders. Eleven years ago, with one homebrewing in the USA and the other sampling good beer while backpacking in Canada, they decided to give it a go in their home country. Having brewed in their spare time, they eventually sought capital to scale up. After several unsuccessful applications for a bank loan, they finally raised enough funds with the collateral of "1 car, 2 bikes, and 3 surfboards". With that $50k injection (on the $100k they raised themselves) they haven't looked back. Despite these pioneers, the Australian craft beer scene is, according to our guide's estimates, 20 years behind the US and 6 years behind NZ. He quoted 5% 'craft beer market penetration' in Melbourne, versus 50% in Wellington and 50% in the whole state of Oregon (home to trendy Portland and the Rogue brewery).