Gateway to the Antarctic

The monotony of the tropics does nothing for me and I love Melbourne's seasons, sometimes all four in one day. On AFL Grand Final Day yesterday the city demonstrated why some young people I know in Sydney refer to Melbourne as the 'gateway to the Antarctic'. It certainly felt like that on Saturday, with freezing winds and snow flurries reported at Melton, just outside Melbourne.

'Twas ever thus, according to my family history research. For example, the weather experienced by the First Fleet south of Australia on 20 December 1787, a summer's day, was so bitterly cold, with hail and snow, that Lieut Clark said he was obliged ‘to put on a flannel waistcoat and in the place of one pair of stockings two pairs, and obliged to keep my greatcoat on constantly all day’. Yet yesterday, when shopping at the South Melbourne market, I saw people in short-sleeved T-shirts and thongs on their feet. Were they Swans supporters visiting from Sydney, caught out by our variable weather?

A heavy police presence was obvious everywhere in South Melbourne, just in case the Swans devotees marked their club's former home territory with too much enthusiasm, but I was out and about before the match started and total decorum reigned. It was totally OK for next-door neighbours to support the opposing teams.

Today, I took to the Hume Highway again, heading north with hundreds of cars crammed with happy Swans fans, the die-hards even sporting red & white number plates. Queues for petrol, food and 'the ladies' at every stopping point made for a slower than normal trip, but the buzz in the air livened up yet another long drive.