This is the journey for those with the legs for poetry. First, take two stone monuments off their plinths for a well-deserved drink. Shake your fist at the Windsor Hotel developers, throw a handful of invisible confetti at a wedding and – if the building is still there – check out the shop that once turned its back to the world. Then, wrap it all up with the ephemeral monuments to the could-have-been legends of Melbourne’s rock scene. This is Melbourne’s long back story: black turtlenecks, grandeur, new money illusions – the tombs of history, glory and disappointment.