It's on page 13, but it still counts.

"Is opening a bank account in Australia as difficult as this?" the smiling manager enquired.

We smiled back and assured him that it was indeed, but in reality I can't remember the last time we spent more than two hours locked in a bank managers office, nor had writer's cramp from signing documents. We were not wanting a loan, nor were we trying to launder vast quantities of international crime funds. We simply wanted to deposit a few hundred euros to make our lives a little simpler.

We all missed lunch, which is perhaps a gauge of just how important the procedure was, but when we emerged into the afternoon sunshine we had sixty pages of countersigned copies, the promise of new debit cards (curiously called "credit" cards) and we each had a 15€ share in the bank.

Just how that actually occurred is a small mystery, but as a result the fees we will pay are minimal, and it seems we have a bank account for life.

Perhaps it is the part of the price one pays for fame.