There’s such a lot of world to see

Those of you who were reading this blog back when I was in China, in May: first of all, God help you; second of all, thank you; third of all – remember Alice and Hugh from the Yangtze River Cruise? Way back then, they’d convinced me to include Melbourne in my Australia itinerary. I wish I could say it was because of the way they described the culture, the architecture, and the people of Melbourne, but I must hang my head in shame and admit it was for one reason and one reason only: Neighbours. That’s right, boys and girls, Melbourne is the home of the best soap in the world ever. Excited doesn’t even begin to describe my emotions.

I was really sad to leave Sydney, a city with which I’d fallen instantly in love, but so hyped up to be catching up with old friends. Well, by backpacking standards they were old friends, anyway. I arrived in the cold Melbourne afternoon, hugging my fleece around me and thinking longingly of the Sydney sunshine, then got the bus from Avalon Airport in to the city centre. Alice was still at work, so I had a couple of hours to amuse myself. I did this by spotting the number of ways Melbourne reminded me of Manchester. The resemblance is remarkable. The architecture is very similar, lots of tall forbidding Victorian buildings. It was also lovely to see another city with trams, surely one of the best ways of navigating a city. More trams, I say! The thing that most put me in mind of Manchester, though, was the relentless rain that was falling. Still, refusing to be gloomy, I headed for a lovely friendly cafe and sampled some of Melbourne’s famously good coffee until it was time to meet Alice.

I trudged up to Flinders Street station, waited at the top of the steps, and was delighted to see her on the other side of the road a few minutes later, jumping up and down and waving. We got on the train out to Hamilton, where her house is, and nattered the whole journey away, catching up on news. It turns out she had a nasty health scare in South East Asia, getting a bad case of DVT, and had to come home sooner than expected. This was horrible to hear, and such a relief to see her back to her old bubbly self. We spent the night at her house, wrapped in cosy dressing gowns, gossiping and planning. Bliss.

The next day was an early start – I went into the city with Alice – she went to work, and I set out to explore some of Melbourne. First priority, though, was booking myself on the Neighbours tour that afternoon. That done, I wandered through the streets and the shops, lost in my own world, investigating the cathedral and surrounding areas.

I sat and ate my sandwich lunch in the grounds of the cathedral, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the Neighbours bus. And when it came, there was no mistaking it. A bus with ‘Neighbours’ written in huge letters down the side of it could mean only one thing: Ramsay Street, baby! Once we’d been collected, our first stop was the office, where we collected our tickets. We were just being told the itinerary of the day when we heard a voice behind us and there was Dr Karl Kennedy. I nearly fell over. Honestly. He was ever so lovely, and posed for photos and signed autographs for all of us, even though he did laugh at me – all the people before me had been ever so polite and British, whereas I jumped with excitement at having my photo with him. What a very nice man. A very, very nice man. You know the rest…

Anyway, we then got on the bus and Dr K followed us on to wish us a good day and to give us some teasers on the plot. I’ll write these because these are just literally tasters – we got told loads of spoilers which I won’t write so, if you’re desperate to know them, send me an email and I can ruin it all for you. So, what Dr K was permitted to tell us was – this week they’ve just filmed a cliffhanger episode, in which someone gets shot, and something goes very, very wrong with a wedding. And then in November, he, Susan, and Issy are heading over to film some scenes in London. So look out for those, UK people!

As we set off on the bus, our guide played some mood music for us. Starting off with the Neighbours theme tune, we then progressed to songs by Delta Goodrem, Holly Valance, Kylie, Jason, and Stefan (”Gonna Make You Feel Good”!). Then one came on that shut a lot of people up. The guide turned round and said, “Who can tell me who this is?” I don’t know if I was proud or ashamed to be the only person to shout out, “Angry Anderson!” “And the name of the song?” Again, the only reply was yours truly: “Suddenly!” “And finally, on what occasion was it used in Neighbours?” Of course, I shouted loud and proud, “Charlene and Scott’s wedding!” All the other young uns turned and looked at me with a mixture of admiration and pity that, I admit, verged more on the pity side than on the admiration side. I guess I really am feeling my age.

First stop was Erinsborough High School although, to be frank, I barely recognised any of it. Still took photos though, obviously. We drove past the studios where they film Neighbours, but we couldn’t go in because it was a filming day and so many screaming Brits (always, always Brits) wouldn’t be good for the on-set ambiance. Put them off or something, the prima donnas.

And finally, we were at Neighbours mecca, aka Ramsay Street. Or Pin Oak Court, as it’s know in real life. It was so surreal to be there, not least because it seems so small compared to how it looks on screen. Our guide thinks they use special lenses on the camera to make it look that way, plus other tricks such as adding a ‘2? in front of all the house numbers, so ‘2? (Paul Robinson’s house) becomes ‘22?. Cunning! I had my photo taken outside all the houses, with a special emphasis on Charlene’s, naturally, and reminisced about all the people who had lived there in the past. Paul and Gayle, then the twins, Lou and Cheryl, Des and Daphne (”I love you, Clarkey” – was ever a sadder line uttered on tv?), Scott and Charlene, Plain Jane Superbrain, Mrs Mangel, Joe and Kerry, and, my personal favourite anti-hero, the little-remembered Sharon, who was Bronwyn’s sister. Anyone (apart from Michael) remember then? We hated Sharon with a passion. Not only did she have ridiculously short arms, she was either fat, gestating an elephant or had managed to dislocate her jaw like what those (sic) snakes do to gobble up a bewildered wildebeest, as we once discussed at length during our school summer holidays.

All too soon (but not before some excited text messages), it was time to leave. We watched some classic episodes on the way back – Libby’s wedding, Jim’s death (watch that again for classic acting moments), the birth of Paul and Christina’s baby in an ice cream van. Magic.

I waved a sad farewell to Ramsay Street, but not for long; I met Alice after work and we headed on to Hugh’s parents’ apartment in the city centre. It was lovely to see Hugh again, and a delight to meet his welcoming folks. I had another exciting night ahead of me: I was going to see my first Aussie Rules Football Game. Not being a fan up until then, I realised that from then on, I would have to be a St Kilda fan, with them being the team I would be rallying on that night.

And you know what? I loved it! I was getting really into the action, almost understanding the rules, enjoying the beer and pies (just like Goodison), cheering on the Saints, singing away – I even know their song now. I can even identify a couple of their players, check me out! Freakiest moment of the night was when I got talking to a guy in the beer queue who lives about 10 doors down from my Mum in Leigh. Small world indeed!

After a bad first quarter, Saints rallied to a fab victory, firmly cementing my position as a St Kilda fan, and brilliantly rounding off a fabulous day experiencing the best of Melbourne.

When I booked this trip, I always knew that I would be somewhere in Sydney on my 30th birthday. Where exactly was yet to be decided, but I knew I would be Down Under. As soon as I got to Sydney, I fell in love with it, and knew instantly I could think of no better place to celebrate the start of a new decade, a new phase in my life, than this wonderful city.

The one thing I did know, though, was that I didn’t want to wake up in a hostel on my 30th birthday. No offence to my dorm mates, with whom I was now bonding into a great little group of friends, but I just couldn’t face it. I wanted to start my 30s in the style with which I would hopefully see out the rest of them. And so I checked in to a swish boutique hotel, the Central Park Hotel. It was lovely to spoil myself so – it was more like an apartment, with two-storey windows, a wonderful living area, a comfy bed, and – joy of joys – a whirlpool bath. After months in Asia with little more than a cold shower, this was bliss.

The last night of my twenties was wonderful, as well. Andy took me out for a gorgeous meal (do I spy a date?), and we toasted the end of an era and, more importantly, the start of a new one. We managed to get told off by the waiter by how much food we’d left, but this just gave us something more to laugh about. I didn’t have anything to drink, in preparation for the next day.

I slept like a log, and so woke up a 30 year old feeling exactly like I did in my twenties! It was a real joy to open all my cards from home, and I said a prayer of thanks for all my lovely relatives and friends who’d sent the cards out here courtesy of Mike and Sheila in Perth. It meant the world, folks, and I love you all dearly for it. Mum’s card made me cry for the first time that day (it wouldn’t be the last!). I also had a lovely card from Andy, along with a thought-provoking present – a book on travel writing. Hmmmm… food for thought indeed.

I had a lovely lazy morning, and then wandered with Andy down to The Rocks for a beautiful lunch in the brilliant sunshine. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky (I think I must have behaved myself in my twenties in order for there to be such good weather on my birthday!). We then sat down by the Opera House and chatted for a couple of hours, me checking my watch every few minutes. I was incredibly excited.

The reason for my excitement? I’d booked to do a BridgeClimb over the Sydney Harbour Bridge. I knew this would be a memorable thing to do on my birthday, something to look back on forever. And this was the reason I hadn’t had anything to drink the night before or with my lunch – you have to pass an alcohol breath test before you go up. Safety is incredibly important to these guys, understandably when you see the heights you climb to.

I went and checked in for the climb, and cried for the second time that day. A week or so before my birthday, my brother Michael had apologised as he’d missed the date for posting my card out to Perth. I said the next address he could definitely get me at was New Zealand, and so had written off the thought of a card from him and Caroline (although I did grass him up to my mum, naturally!). However, my wonderful bro had done something amazing: he’d got in touch with BridgeClimb, somehow managed to get my card out to them, and they handed it over to me on check-in. Michael and Caroline – thankyou with all my heart.

I met the rest of my group, and was amazed to find there was another birthday girl in my group, although she was celebrating her 21st. What are the odds? We were all pretty excited, which couldn’t even be dampened when we were given our very daggy jumpsuits. Basically, because we would be walking over a major highway, everything we wore had to be clipped on to these jumpsuits. I had to take off my watch and my bracelets, we had to take out any hairclips – anything even as small as that falling down on the highway could cause a major accent. So we were given clip-on fleeces, clip-on baseball caps, clip-on everything. We were then given training on using our harnesses – we would be attached from the moment we stepped on to the moment we stepped off.

Soon we were off. And let me say right now – it was one of the best things I have ever done in my entire life. If you are ever in Sydney, DO IT! In fact – travel to Sydney JUST to do it. It’s going to be superlative overload in this description, but I refuse to apologise – it’s completely justified.

We got out on the bridge at 4pm, when the sun was still out and strong. We all had headsets (clip-on, naturally) so we could hear all the fascinating information our guide was giving us. The bridge was completed in 1932 at a then-astronomical $20m, and spans across the harbour, giving amazing views across the Sydney area. You start off underneath the bridge, hearing the traffic above you, and then climb up through two lanes of traffic, emerging on the top at the foot of one of the famous curves. At this moment, everyone was literally lost for words. To our right was the Opera House; to our left was The Rocks. By this time, the sun was breathing its last for the day, turning everything that beautiful pinky gold. At this point, we had photos taken:

At the top of the bridge, we had another group photo taken (jazz hands ahoy!), and then our lovely guide got the group to sing happy birthday to me and the other birthday girl. Aaah. What a moment to remember for the rest of my life. We walked across the top – yet another photo op – blew the famous Blinking Billy a kiss and made a wish, as is Sydney tradition, and then watched the sunset over a truly amazing city. Wow. Then we walked back down the other side. By this time it was dark, and we had a final photo taken with the lights of the city behind us:

Seemingly all too soon, but in reality about 2.5 hours after we stepped foot on the bridge, we were back down. And here is my new claim to fame – I can say I jumped off the Sydney Harbour Bridge. OK, it was off the last step, but nevertheless it’s true!

I walked back to my hotel, absolutely buzzing and high from the Climb, and knocked on the door. Andy had asked for my key, as there was football on that he wanted to watch while I was on the bridge. Or so he told me. In reality, he’d been busy preparing a surprise for me, with banners, balloons, flowers, streamers, a cake and candles, and champagne. Making me cry for the third time that day. Wow. His reason was that if I was at home people would be spoiling me, but I know for sure the real reason is that he’s a true gem and a superstar.

Wolfing the cake and champagne, I hastily changed, ready to go out and meet the gang from the hostel that night. We met Nicola, Marie, and Luke in the pub, and Martin was going to meet us later (in fact, I got a message from him later on but sadly didn’t hear my phone). The night went as I’m sure you’d expect – plenty of pubs, plenty of drinking, and plenty of dancing, including some favourite tunes on account of it was my birthday and therefore I felt justified in comandeering the DJ all night. So Mr Brightside, Kylie, the Pussycat Dolls and Wham were the order of the night.

A huge thankyou right now to everyone who made my birthday so very special and memorable, with an honorable mention to Jonesy, who made it a day in a million and made me forget to be homesick. I’ll never forget it, guys.

If this is the way my 30s are going to go, you can sign me up right now. I like it here.

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