GUARDIAN It was 2am. I’d been in Melbourne for 24 sleepless hours and was still wide-awake, feeling as though I were missing out on the essential glamour of a Lost In Translation moment because my low-rise hotel didn’t have views of the city. Instead of raiding the mini-bar, I went for a nightcap at a sleepy local pub called Rush – a misnomer if ever there was one. Rain came down in Hollywood torrents, the wind whipped up and I began to question the wisdom of leaving Blighty’s so-so summer for Melbourne’s grey winter. Continue reading →