Like most people who grew up in England throughout the 90s I spent my tea-times in the company of soggy fishfingers and Anne Haddy. Neighbours was something that unified me with the young rapscallions I called classmates and remained a constant talking point until we all decided that hanging out in the park smoking was the path we'd chosen. Then I ended up (briefly) at University and Neighbours was in my life once again. Morning lectures never really were my thing, especially when they were pitted against a 1pm rising-time closely followed by a bowl of cereal and the 'House of Trouser' - all while still in my dressing gown.
Basically, what I mean is Neighbours is a goddamn British Institution, except it's not even British, it's filmed right here in Melbourne Town and today Josh and I went to Ramsay Street. We arrived for our bus right about on time and realised that our tour guide probably wasn't going to be our friend when she aggressively told us to throw our cigarettes in the bin. The others in our group were, as Josh kindly put it "proper mouth-breathers" and, of course, every single one of them was English. Conor (The Irish One, remember him?) greeted us as warmly as any out-of-work actor would and we drove off to the Neighbours set.
Initially we had a peak at Erinsborough High, which was quite frankly unspectacular, but the mouth-breathers were clicking away with their pearly pink digital cameras. Then Lassiters and the Car Lot followed and the piece de resistance was left until last - THE ACTUAL STREET. Unfortunately that too left us both a little heartbroken; it's an actual street where REAL PEOPLE live (NOT HAROLD OR MADGE OR PAUL OR ZEKE) and it's miniscule. They have security monitoring the houses, so no light-fingered fans feel it's possible to walk away with The Kennedy's front gate or Lou's geraniums. I suppose they say never meet your idols for a reason.
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