The only way to begin getting a feel for a brand new city is to wander. Get lost, work it out, stumble across places and views, get coffee and just surrender to the sights and sounds. Melbourne feels very different to Sydney - at first appearances I think it's the architecture, and in the centre, the river. I took a tram from my base in Hawksburn/Toorak (apparently pronounced T'Rak by locals, like 'Tronno' for Toronto) and trundled over to Federation Square. There a number of festivals happening this weekend and month in Melbourne, so the centre was packed with folks strolling amongst craft stalls and along the river. Very hot and clear blue skies, so I ran to buy some sun screen - I can go from nought to burnt in 60 seconds on my forehead! Then meandered my way through the crowds, along the river, gazing at the towers of glass and steel and generally soking up the 'flavour' of downtown Melbourne. Past the Arts Centre with its impressive, Eifel Tower-like construction rising from its roof, and past one of two sites for the National Gallery of Victoria. Trams ply their way up and down the streets, disappointly no longer liveried in the traditional, Melbourne green and yellow - it's a long time since I drove streets shared with trams, and have had to learn the 'hook turn', whereby you bear left to turn right!
Finally put off my the sheer numbers of people, I scour the map and head for a tramstop to take me to St Kilda Beach. Deposited at the shore, I set off and walk up and down the esplanade (a favourite word!), looking out across the water to where sailboats cluster in the middle distance, beyond which lie large tankers at anchor, and not for the first time think of my father, merchant master mariner, and how he must have anchored out there back in the mists of time. Over to my left I can see Port Melbourne where another huge liner is docked. It's all a stark difference to Bondi, with a much more relaxed feel - couples, families and individuals loll on the grass or the beach, skateboarders and cyclists race up on down the walkway, and I settle on the edge of the boardwalk to turn on my laptop, blink through the glare of the sun on the screen, send emails and write.
I've realised the only way I can write is much the same as how I put together these blogs. I've got an idea for how I want to present the Marathon stories, weaved into my own story about I came to begin researching this 44 year old adventure. I suspect it won't be to the tastes of most motorsports fanatics or dedicated petrol-heads, but that's okay. A few years ago, Graham Robson - an award-winning motoring writer and historian - published a fantastic book about the 1970 London to Mexico World Cup Rally. During a visit to the Classic Car Show at Birmingham's NEC in 2010, I was told by a motoring journalist that unless I was able to produce a similar book to this, there was no point in trying. Now I am more certain than ever that pubished or not, my idea will be far removed from this written documentary of the World Cup Rally, for one simple reason - yes, of course it would be great if rally enthusiasts were keen to read what I have written, but unlike the World Cup Rally book, I want anyone and everyone to be able to read the stories and adventures of some of the 255 1968 marathoniers, and not just motorsports junkies (no offence to them!). So that's my aim, my objective.
Shame that the chance to meet with a few more folks down at Philip Island didn't materialise this weekend - for me it's important to make sure I don't become a pest and chasing or 'stalking' people just won't meet the ends. No matter, I have two or three folks lined up in Melbourne (including first-placed Aussie Ian Vaughan, who I must admit to being very excited to meet!), plus Max Winkless in Perth. Together with the material I have amassed to date, I am truly thrilled with the breadth of information and anecdotes. Now all I need is 12 months to process it all!
Finally, while there are still quite a few days to go, my thoughts are beginning to turn homeward. The wonders of Skype have kept me in touch with Rob (still don't quite believe it's free of charge!), but by the time March 20th arrives I will be ready wing my way home.
Emirates better allocate me that Emergency Exit row or I'll start chewing an armrest, if you ask me!
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