It's Australia Day. Having to go into the city early and no play scheduled for most of the day, there was time to wander around a little afterwards and take in the festivities. By mid-morning it was hot and sunny and people were milling everywhere, holding flags handed out by fresh-faced volunteers in uniform. There were also government pamphlets with an Australian oath – no, not that kind of Australian oath, just one where you declare  yourself a loyal Aussie citizen.

The biggest event around Melbourne's Federation Square was the 'People's March', made up of seemingly random groups like the Victoria Police Pipe Band, the City of Melbourne Bowls Club, the United Australian Lebanese Movement, and even a Sicilian Folk Group – a "small but influential" crew of about 30 people, according to the emcee. (Yes, there was an emcee.)

Family activities like face painting and street performances took place on the edges, with the odd circus performer on stilts rising above the sea of heads. Tennis references were everywhere – banners in hotel lobbies, tennis balls piled up inside the window of a jewellery store, posters of Roger and Maria in various shop windows, and one of the popular routes to the grounds was lined with tennis photos from The Age.

Along the Yarra River near Melbourne Park, there were canoe races and picnics. People stopped to look at a boat whose crew were dumping small orange objects into the water – rubber ducks was the best guess. Overhead, an airshow took place over the tennis courts.

While in the city I saw a second-hand bookstore, forgot everything else and went inside. The tennis section was fully half a shelf, and for the first time ever I actually had competition while browsing it – there was someone looking for a book he could get Rod Laver to autograph at the tournament later that afternoon. At first, I picked up seven books, then remembered my suitcase isn't exempt from the laws of physics and whittled the selection down to three.

One of them was "Lawn Tennis for beginners," a late 1940s instruction book by John Olliff – a former Davis Cup player for Great Britain and later the tennis correspondent for The Telegraph. He also wrote some more entertaining books about the pros of that era. Bought on a whim (and also for its small size), it's attracted a few questions from people walking by my desk. What? You mean people don't hit their forehands like this any more?:

The head must be kept down, the shoulders must turn with the hips, the back must be bent down over the ball, the body must be sideways to the net, the hips must rotate, the knees must be bent and you must be on your toes. That, in a nut-shell, is the full-blooded drive on the forehand as played by Tilden, Vines, Von Cramm, Helen Wills-Moody, Dorothy Round and so on.

See, Fernando – you've been doing it all wrong.