Melbourne is in festive mood. It is a holiday weekend. It is Moomba festival. They are also getting ready for the Grand Prix in a few days. They are also getting ready for Easter. It’s festival time. I get the impression that in Melbourne, it is always festival time. 

We arrive in St Kilda’s to discover that there are no campsites here, or within Melbourne precincts. The nearest is twenty kms away and that is full. Because it’s festival time. The next nearest is not only full but also carries the interesting internet review, “Only use if desperate!” We park in a very large, very busy carpark and spend a lovely afternoon strolling around St Kilda’s. After a food stop, we go to a concert by an Australian rocker of the 70’s/ 80’s called Russell Morris. Very good. 

Back to our trusty camper. The large, busy carpark is now empty. Except for us. One lone van in the centre of a vast, open, concreted arena. Hiding, is not an option. What to do? We climb aboard, turn off all lights and go to bed. 7.45am …. Knock, knock. “Don’t answer it”. “OK”. Knock, knock. Stay still. Not a sound. The knocker goes away. I peep out. The large carpark is full! To the brim! Not a space in sight! It’s 7.50am!! It’s full! Where did they come from? When? We sneak out and go for coffee. When we come back, there is a very official looking note on the windscreen, informing us that camping overnight in St Kilda’s is forbidden and carries large penalties. We lock up and go into Melbourne, on the tram, for the day. 

What a day. The sun is shining, the place is hopping, and guess what? Melbourne is in festive mood. We walk, tram and stroll the city, top to bottom. We visit the lanes, the alleys, the markets, the water-skiing finals, the outdoor rock concert and the film museum, where Cate Blanchett is very artistic in multiple roles. And we visit Chloe. As evening falls, we return to retrieve our mobile homestead, and head off west. Just ahead of the St Kilda’s camping police posse.