Time has come to move on. The summer has reached the southern parts of Australia, tempting with a more temperate climate, not so hot as in Sydney, but also not too cold as the winter down there. ‘If there was any time to visit Tasmania, it’s in summer’, is considered common knowledge. So, out of the sticky city air and into the southern east coast countryside, full with Eucalyptus forests and far-stretching lush-green grass fields. Rocky coasts, interrupted by ivory-white beaches, keep foaming milky-white waves at bay, perfect for surfing and bodyboarding. Where the seagrass shelters a plethora of different fishes, swept towards the cliffs by the incoming tide, the predators follow. Here it is a pod of seals, indulging in the plentiful buffet, happily diving down to the ocean floor, their dark back fins breaking the rough surface, swimming in circles and turning on their backs effortlessly in the choppy waters, seeming invincible to navigate this apparent chaos of wind, waves and currents that would have any human drown in seconds. Down and down the coast the grass seems to get greener, and the border between New South Wales (NSW) and Victoria is only recognizable by the change of colour of the road, its persistent grey abruptly switching to an inviting beige. Close by the free campground for the night surprises with its cleanliness. While the roadside overnight resting places in NSW were not much more than glorified parking lots, not much more than toilets and sandy ground, the ones in Victoria seem to be maintained to a much higher standard. Trimmed lawns to put up tents comfortably, covered lunch tables and BBQ areas and generally pleasant-looking, offer a resting place for various travellers with their campervans, rooftop tents and dogs. The surprising number of chicken and cows all around make waking up rather easy. From the southeastern coast the road leads inland into the stunning valleys and national parks of the Greater Melbourne Area. The Yarra Ranges National Park gives birth to the Yarra river, flowing all the way through Melbourne and Port Phillip into the southern ocean. While the river is canalized and controlled in the city, dirty brown and incredibly unappealing, its origin up in the mountains is crystal-clear, fresh and drinkable. Still uncontaminated it is a collection of sandstone filtered creeks, rainwater and groundwater, harbouring fish and platypus. Flowing through yet another set of temperate rainforest, through collections of hundred-meter tall and hundred year old mountain ash and redwood trees, some of them so old that they form cave-like holes at their trunks, big enough to shelter even humans, perfect for bats, birds, wombats and even the occasional swamp wallaby, the grounds sprouting different species of native plants, the fresh green of the tree fern leaves everywhere with their tiny brown spores on the underside, taking flight in the first strong winds to colonize yet uninhabited lands. Native and, unfortunately also introduced species of wild berries (like blackberries, the little sh*ts are really everywhere) feed the fascinating Lyrabirds, ground birds who are known to imitate various sounds, like cats and camera shutters, and the laughing Cookaburra, their laughing call, almost monkey-like, shrilling far through the trees, letting other birds know that they penetrated enemy-territory, and simultaneously causing a wide giggle in first-time listening humans. Compared to the beauty of the Yarra Ranges, Melbourne city cannot compete. It’s trying hard though with its tall, blue-stained glass buildings, reflecting the shy sun peeking through the rain clouds, with its community gardens right in the central business district, filled with impressive sunflowers, vegetables, herbs and flowers. Almost symbolically for Melbourne reputation, two big events coincide on this day. On the steps of the public library people congregate to protest the Israel war in Gaza, loud and passionately demanding peace and criticizing the invaders, shakily and rather unsuccessfully walking the line between compassion and hate, between criticism and antisemitism. Many of the participating protesters are actually dressed for and quite likely will join afterwards the second big event, the Melbourne Midsumma Festival, the carnival that starts a three-week program of queer artistic and cultural activities, stalls and entertainment. A celebration of love and acceptance, quite contrary to the vibes of the first. And indeed, upon entering the crowded garden area, a wave of colours and laughter engulfs even the grumpiest of the grumpy, contagious and stimulating. Picnic blankets and buffet tables plaster the grassy lawns in front of the busy stages, music and chatter everywhere. Everyone is welcome. And that’s Melbourne for you.