By the time I get to its CBD, I'm questioning our decision: the cab driver spends the entire journey banging the xenophobic drum for "layabout Kiwis who should be rounded up and sent home", while the Brit is told to "take her poncey accent home". Nor do they unfurl the welcome mat at our Flinders Lane hotel, where the surly girl at reception is too busy getting divorced over the phone to check us in.
Still, we get our revenge at Mamasita, a delicious Mexican restaurant in Collins St, where our decibel levels rise to dangerous levels.
We've got only two nights so we stick to the script: eating, drinking, shopping and wandering. Fortunately, Melbourne delivers all these in spades, so we start Saturday at Federation Square (or "Fed Square" as the grumpy receptionist calls it) scoffing delicious pastries and drinking coffee that I begrudgingly admit is as good as anything I've had at home.
We've heard a lot about the city's revamped laneways that began life as rear access to properties facing big streets. Many were later roofed as "arcades", But then some bright spark realised they could be legitimate destinations in their own right and in moved the boutiques, eateries and graffiti artists.
We wander into Degraves St where William Degraves' steam flour-mill pumped away in the 1850s. These days the flour has been replaced by flash espresso machines.
People-watching comes with an an excess of eye-candy: this is where the city's beautiful people play. We get filthy looks from impossibly tall teenagers for daring to eat fat slabs of cheesecake. In your eye, models!
Melbourne operates on two levels - grunge or luxury, new or vintage. We jump on a tram and head to St Kilda to check out some of the city's best antique and retro shops. At Tarlo and Graham in Chapel St, we swoon over old film lights, medical posters and museum display cases. The Junk Company swallows another hour while at the adorable Empire Vintage, a woman with a 60s beehive convinces me to spend far too much on a vintage hat mould.
Hopped up on caffeine and shopping, we join what seems like half of Melbourne on a run along the Yarra River. Between admiring the skyline and stopping to pat dogs, it isn't the most energetic workout, but it's one of the most scenic.
Melbourne is no slouch when it comes to hedonism, so we put on our party pants for our last night and head out. A friend tells us Gasolina on the South Wharf Promenade has some of the city's best pizza, and he's not wrong.
You can't visit Melbourne without dipping into its nightlife so we do, first at the excellent Rum Diary Bar, where I almost expect Johnny Depp to appear, and later at Lily Blacks where, surprisingly, we're not made to feel like someone's mother. Or cougars.
Ah, Melbourne, you shocked and surprised us, and not always in a good way. But, ultimately, you delivered a stonking great weekend, and for that we are grateful.
Melbourne Cup Carnival
It's one of the biggest events in Victoria's busy sporting calendar, and the Melbourne Cup Carnival has a special day set aside for the ladies to dazzle.
On Crown Oaks Day, women shine in elegant creations _ femininity is the core theme of the day. A pink rose graces many a gentleman's lapel on the day, which features the final of Fashion on the Field, Australia's largest outdoor fashion event.
