We’ve been enjoying warm weather in Cairns. But now we’ve flown south to our third Australian State—Victoria. We’ve come to the city of Melbourne to visit family members.

Climate-wise, this is a big deal. It’s like flying from Cancún to Baltimore. In November. (May is Australia’s November.) We’ve traded bathing suits for sweaters. We carry ponchos and umbrellas. Suddenly we’re cold. What happened to the balmy tropics? What were we thinking?

But climate in May (November) isn’t everything. The Economist ranks Melbourne as the world’s second most livable city. I’m finding that to be true.

Tourists often begin exploring of Melbourne at Federation Square (which I found difficult to photograph and even more difficult to love) right across from the wonderful Victorian-era Flinders Street Station.

Trains from the ‘burbs bring commuters to Flinders Street Station. Beats driving.

So freeways are fewer and less congested than expected for a city of four million. Residents would disagree with me about the congestion thing, but they haven’t driven in LA or the San Francisco Bay Area.

This photo was taken from a pedestrian bridge that links two parks. Speakers on the bridge play sounds of aborigines chanting. The sounds are utterly charming.

Once in the city, an extensive tram system makes getting around easy. I like the old pre-war bone rattlers. The modern ones are more comfortable, but they’re eyesores. Trams are our main mode of transport. Except for being chauffeured by Laura’s brother-in-law, that is.

Red- and yellow-brick Victorian buildings share space comfortably with steel and glass skyscrapers. Melbourne is a visual treat.

Arcades and alleys offer intriguing contrasts: the city is simultaneously glitzy and grungy.

I prefer grungy. Even garbage and graffiti looks kind of cool.

Some garbage goes in bins. Other kinds remain “on premises.” Brass plaques warn the innocent. I like the frankness of this one at a place called Showgirls.

Many Victorian residences have been restored with the same loving care they have in San Francisco. I prefer them to modern Australian architecture. An upper middle class family can afford to live in one of these...

...but not in this bluestone mansion. I saw four or five in a row, each with a Land Rover parked out in front.

The Yarra River bisects Melbourne. Parklands line the banks. Rowers enjoy the placid waters.

A playful Ferris wheel softens the feel of this business-oriented city. Few seem to use it: I saw only one person ask for a ride, but the operator cheerfully fired it up anyway. ”No worries.”

Imagine, having a Ferris wheel all to yourself.

One of those mega-Ferris wheels was built farther upriver. Erecting really big wheels seems to be a trend: you’re not a serious city unless you have one.

A year ago last summer (February), Melbourne’s melted. They had to shut it down. Today it’s a monument to the demise of some poor engineer’s career.

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Melbourne is a most multicultural city. Greeks, Italians, Chinese, Thais, Indians—the list is far too long to enumerate. A result is a multitude of dining options. We’re enjoying exotic food every night. One night, Nepalese. Another, Ethiopian.

Public parks and spaces abound. You can walk across this “City of Gardens” on lawns. No need to go on the roads (except to cross them).

Melbourne is strong culturally—arts, music, theater. Short excursions outside of the city lead to spectacular mountains, beaches, and rivers. And for all my complaints about climate, Melbourne’s in May reminds me of San Francisco in November: mild, sometimes brisk. People who live here have it very, very good.