Walking the half mile or so to the sea front was a delight there must have been four square miles of such property and not a high rise in sight. Nothing was out of place, nor was it in any way ostentatious, because there was no room to extend sideways, all development was to the rear of these delightful houses, leaving perfectly uniform   frontages. This was a place at peace with itself, its sense of scale was infectious here you could talk to your neighbour. There was no heavy traffic and definitely no graffiti. You got the distinct feeling that had “Johnny Artist” come along with his spray can, he would have been apprehended in fairly short order then promptly handed over to the local W.I. to make into graffiti jam! If ever there was a blueprint for quality living – this had to be it. The illusion sadly was short-lived, as soon as I reached Port Melbourne all sense of scale had been lost. A giant conference centre dwarfed all its neighbours and the graffiti had returned. It made me wonder why architects so often think in vertical terms – sadly seldom laterally.

  Back to the Victoria, a shower and a change of kit, then off to satisfy a manly appetite. Did I strike lucky this time? “Yo Yosi”, no, this is not Aussie slang for calling someone a puff, but a wonderful Japanese café on Swanston St. I ordered a sweet chicken dish served with rice and a glass of house wine. Before receiving my main course a complimentary bowl of fish soup was placed before me and five minutes later the main course arrived, talk about efficient. Nevertheless the food was excellent and for $11.00 (£4.00) it was the best value money could buy. Melbourne is full of these small eateries and bars. The influx of Asian immigrants to this state over the past couple of decades has had a profound effect upon this city’s culinary offerings.