Melbourne

We left the Princes Highway into the spacious sprawl of suburbia that is so typically Australian- every house on a quarter-acre, mostly single story. We then picked up the cross-city motorways, where the houses became more familiar. Two and three story houses gave way to apartments, growing larger as we went. Then the flyovers gave views of the industry, business and finance of Melbourne, and the flashy skyscrapers of the Central Business District.

With very little difficulty we found the campsite nearest the city- 9Km away from the centre. Compared to the arrogant, awkward, pain in the arse city streets of Sydney, Melbourne was easy to get around, well sign posted, and almost, strangely, quite homely.

After so many hours driving, I was shattered- Mrs G couldn't share the drive as her driving licence was in her money-belt, stolen in Delhi. Once booked into the camp, a swift coffee, change of clothes, and a tea-cake, we were fit to "do" the city.

The cities tram network is a great way to get about, reasonably priced and late-running. Due to the late time of arrival, the tourist trail of museums were closed, so we hit the bars and a great restaurant in Chinatown. A large 3-dish meal, with mid-priced bottle of wine cost $60- I cannot remember the name of the place, but we were convinced to go in by a local bloke who caught us looking at the menu outside. He promised the best mixed satay in the world, and I couldn't really argue- it was indeed amazing, the best I had ever tasted.

The following morning we went to Pin Oak Drive- AKA Ramsey Street- the real street where Neighbours is filmed. We were surprised at how small it was- I struggled to turn the campervan around at the top. I felt very self-conscious staring at peoples homes, especially from our brightly painted campervan (pictured below). However, Mrs Grasshopper leaped out, camcorder and camera in hand, and done the tourist thing.

Soon as she did though, the residents started leaving their houses, jumping into their cars and taking off. I noticed a big guy in wrap-around shades and a high-vis jacket step out of a car, fold his arms and stare at us, looking just like a security guard. Along with the yellow "filming-do not cross" fences stacked up by the entrance of the street, and the exodus of residents, I figured filming was due on. We made off before being told to.

From there we went into the city centre, visiting the Melbourne Gaol where the famous bushranger Ned Kelly was hung for being a thieving murderer. He's a popular character here in Oz.

After seeing a show about Ned, and generally wondering around the 19th century prison, we went to the police watch-house, which was included in our ticket price. Following the 19th Century setting of the Gaol, and the advertisement of experiencing an "old fashioned arrest procedure" role-play, we were expecting an old fashioned Gaoler experience, complete with iron shackles and demo of Victorian coppering...

We actually got shown modern custody procedure almost exactly like we have here in the UK, and so were quite bored! The watch-house (police custody cells) was in use up until 1994, when they moved it to bigger, more modern premises. Since then, having left everything in the old one, they now book tourists in as a novel tourist experience. Admittedly, the cells were old and Victorian in design (like many old nicks in UK), but the booking-in procedure clearly doesn't change much over 14 years, or from the UK to Oz. Still, it was amusing to see how our fellow tourists enjoyed it!

We then set off for the drive into the country-suburbs, to see our family members- it was great, and we had a great time especially as I met mine for the first time ever.

We left back for Sydney just after 8pm on Sunday, driving until 2am, where we parked up at a rest area next to a full-size military submarine... Quite what it was doing parked up in a country town, in the middle of the bush I don't know. There wasn't even any water. It felt like an X-files set.

We slept until 8am, woken by children going to school... It was very surreal; in the dark, despite the illuminated submarine (WTF?), the rest area looked like any other you get on long Australian highways; toilets, covered picnic area, and a parking area.

Daylight however, shown us to be parked in the middle of a housing estate! The campervan that was parked in front of us had left sometime in the night, revealing a sign- "STRICTLY NO CAMPING!" I guessed that was technically just what we were doing, sleeping in our campervan.

A guy arrived to clean the toilets, and he eyed us suspiciously as I fell out the van, stiff and half asleep. Thinking brewing a coffee on our stove would confirm our honest mistake, we jumped in the front and made the last push to Sydney, roaring away in a cloud of dust. Slowly.

We got to Sydney by that afternoon. The city was a pain in the arse to get around- Sydneysiders somewhat arrogantly think your stupid, but you wonder why there are two signs for the airport, both pointing in opposite directions. Getting around India's cities is easier- I know from experience.

Our dour mood on arriving back in Sydney wasn't just the pathetic road signs and poor traffic management- it was knowing our travelling is at its end.

Two weeks until our flight. Maybe 1 more post.

Then home. I am looking forward to it, all things considered.