I arrive in Melbourne and go to the Swanston Hotel on Swanston Street. A young man at reception says" You are staying here because your name is Swanston". I give him a withering look (I am good at this) and say in a very imperious tone (I am exceptionally good at this) "No I am staying here because I own the hotel". "I just don't beleive you" he says. "Young man, that is a career limiting statement" I respond. He disappears into an office and returns a minute later. "The manager doesn't beleive you either but you can have a free upgrade to a King room".

There are some very beauitful old buildings in Australia but some idiot keeps planting trees out front so you cannot see them. Almost everywhere you go it is the same.

Foolish Julie (remember her from Tasmania; the girl thinks it would be fun to go sailing with me) is in town so we go sightseeing together including the gaol where Ned Kelly was hanged. I also whizz out to Benalla the winter gliding headquarters of old friend John McWilliam and partner Liz and spend a lovely interlude there before getting back to some very serious wine tasting and the next leg to Adelaide.