Melbourne

The landing approach to Melbourne begins shortly before midnight. Sea of lights. I quickly flick through the Lonely Planet: 3.5 million inhabitants. Wow. I didn’t think so. After 15 minutes I have all my luggage and the transfer bus is just right. Peter, Father Christmas from Fiji, had offered to pick me up with his sister. She works at the airport. But that works too.

I arrive in the city. A bus with a disco ball drives past. Muffled bass thumps. It says on the back: The Ultimate Party Experience. A disco on wheels. If you don’t spill your beer while dancing, you’ll definitely make it here. Sotos had already told me: Melbourne is the party capital of the world. All the walls on the walk to the hostel confirm this: Poster after poster after poster.

My first hostel: Nomad. A bar downstairs. Drunk, loud kids, as always. Way too big for me, but when you arrive in the middle of the night the choice is a bit limited. WiFi is Global Gossip and, as always, expensive as hell – at least it doesn’t work. I have a beer, then look for a phone.

Saturday night in Melbourne. Sotos is sure to be out and about. As soon as I open the laptop on the payphone, I realise: Ay – I’m online. Headset out and phone around. Bills out, top up my account. Then quickly find a hostel for the next few days. It takes until almost three o’clock. Without success.

Day one. I go into town. Two hostels are fully booked. On to the Yarra River. The sun is shining, but the temperatures are much more pleasant than in the north: about the same as here at the end of August. Skyscrapers and blue skies. Victorian old buildings in between. A nice mix.

I make it to the Thai Food Festival on Federation Square. I learn two things: firstly, I’m sure to put on several kilos in Thailand. Secondly: I urgently need better earplugs. I never want to hear a Thai sing or “entertain” again.

I’m sitting in a coffee shop. Finally a free wireless hotspot. Even electricity. I find a new hostel in Kilda, just outside towards the beach. You can’t pay less than $28 a day here. Melbourne is expensive.

A small jazz band is playing cool jazz in the perfectly echoing front hall. I’m still out of breath. But I’ll be fine, all the channels are glowing.