Sydney v Melbourne

I've been living in Melbourne now for close to 2 years. I've enjoyed the transition and all the changes I've made to my life a great deal. It's been a pretty wild ride.

in the processes of change, I've gained an insight into the differences between people an environs in New South Wales and Victoria and to what makes them so different. Sydney is a fast paced city with perhaps a million too many people. It's public transport system is a joke, with buses being a last resort and trains being an irregular inconvenience. Despite Melbourne having a better public transport infrastructure, Sydney actually has better trains. They hold more people due to on average having more carriages and two decks as opposed to Melbourne's one. Packed trains in Sydney aren't uncommon, but in Melbourne it's often very hard to even find space in which to stand at peak hour.

Sydney is Australia's sports capital, regardless of what Melbournians are told to think, thanks primarily to the diversity of sporting interests and saturation of team sports franchises. A swag of rugby league clubs in the NRL, pro soccer clubs, rugby union and AFL. Melbourne is perhaps better classed as Australia's 'events capital'.

Sydney loses out in the pollution stakes. Melbourne is a greener city, with more environmentally minded people actively taking an interest in their city and its future. Its air is clean but its water quality is on par with Sydney's, where on a typical day the humidity in tandem with the pollution can leave a person not yet accustomed to its weather systems with a feeling of greasy, grimy, discomfort.

Media-wise, both cities have it quite poor. Melbournians are the most insecure of all Australians. References to Sydney and a need to prove any form of superiority abound, and to an outsider not allied to either city it's very tiring and at times very irritating. Sydney-siders on the other hand couldn't care less, happy in their lot regardless of how other cities perceive them.

It's perhaps a result of such parochial feelings that the Melbourne media is absolutely saturated with Victorian rules football coverage. It's their game, and the media does everything it can to sideline any perceived threats, particularly from the likes of rugby league - not what one might expect from a city proclaiming itself the national sporting capital.

Women in Melbourne are generally thinner, paler, and smoke more than those in Sydney. I'm not really sure why, but Victorians seem to be absolutely petrified of the sun. Kids are taught that exposure to the sun is a terrible thing, are covered up at all times, and for this reason kids in Melbourne on average have weaker bones than those in Sydney, even if the children in Sydney take the reverse too far and have more skin cancers.

Men on the other hand tend to be taller and much weedier. Perhaps this is due to body-shape aspirations of Melbourne men being that of Vic rules footballers, and basketballers whereas men in Sydney seem to carry frames that are less metrosexual and/or child-like. There are exceptions to both rules of course.

Melbourne is insular. It's all about Melbourne. Sydney is outward looking, save for the fact that it is so aggressively tribal along social lines. Sydneysiders will happily travel across the globe and promote their city as an international hub, but you're much less likely to find someone from the Eastern fringe venturing into deepest, darkest Western Sydney, which may be the most foreign land of all. Western Sydney residents on the other hand are far more inclined to venture to the East of the city, but they will certainly point out how poorly they think of their Eastern neighbours once having gone there.

Culturally, Melbourne is a lot richer than Sydney. It's music, visual arts and live events are a rich tapestry. In Sydney they are more of an afterthought. Perhaps Sydney makes up for this in its own odd way, by being so utterly dominant when it comes to the Australian finance and business sector.

Misconceptions about Sydney from Melbournians aren't as common as those they hold about New South Wales as a whole. Melbournians have a weird, incredibly skewed view of NSW based on their limited experiences of travel to Sydney, and to Queensland via the Newell Highway. Every year Victorians head to Queensland in droves, looking for sunshine and great holidays, and in the process if driving they travel via the Newell Highway through the back of NSW. They see small dying towns, parched, endless flat paddocks, straight roads dominated by trucks and are then given to the idea that all of New South Wales is just as boring. They drive past everything that New South Wales has in common with Queensland without ever knowing it. Most people in NSW would prefer to keep it that way too.

Misconceptions about Melbourne from Sydneysiders are focused primarily on the occasional latest boasts coming out of Victoria and on the weather. It's a generally held belief by New South Welshmen that Victoria and Melbourne has the worst weather imaginable. Cold days, endless grey skies and incessant rain are the keys to this theory, and each of them are generally wide of the mark. Winter in Melbourne is very cold, and at times can approach those seen in the Blue Mountains of NSW, but Summer is perhaps a more pleasant experience in Victoria than it is in Sydney. Indeed, blue skies are not rare, even if muggy, sweaty days are. As for rain, the reality is that Sydney actually receives more rainfall that Melbourne, only that in Victoria it falls for longer, in a light, somewhat innocent drizzle. In Sydney the rain is more often driving, falls in bucket loads and is a worth planning weekends around, whereas in Melbourne you just go ahead anyway, because you'll barely notice it.

Perhaps the only real ugly side to Melbourne so far is its racism. A black man like my father can walk the streets of Sydney without even the slightest raised eyebrow. In Melbourne, perhaps due to the rarity of Victorian Aboriginal people, my dad becomes somewhat of a sideshow, and people in Melbourne have shown absolutely no shame with how they will stare, rudely at a person in the street, for being different. Going to the mall in Melbourne for an Aboriginal man with dark skin is a confronting matter, and it's really no wonder that people of Indian heritage are being murdered in the numbers here that they are.

I'm enjoying my time in Melbourne, and despite it being once a home to both my parents and grandfather, I really can't see myself forming any real attachment to the place, any more than I might to Sydney where both my parents were born. I'll be here a fair few more years, but in time I'll look forward to getting back - out of the rat race.

CostCo: The Trail of Blood

Lucy and I ventured to CostCo on Saturday. Big mistake. The store had only been open for a week and was the first for the franchise in Australia, so I expected things too be a little hectic. Well, hectic would have been a help. Instead I found matters to be out of control. After 30 minutes outside, lined up just to purchase a membership, being whipped by icy winds in the shade of the monolothic red CostCo cube, we finally made it inside. Venturing into that place without one of their giant shopping trolleys is the act of a mad man. By the time that I had filled my arms with bulk organic dark chocolate, a giant jar of sun dried tomatoes, two massive bags of Tasmanian mussels and some freshly baked bread, I knew I'd be in trouble.

Well didn't the shit hit me like I'm a fan of the stuff! I casually started towards the checkout, realising then that at the end of line I couldn't quite see the bloody start! So, arms full, I stood and waited, and waited, and felt myself becoming something not all that different to the arms on an analog clock. Yeah, you know they move, but they don't quite seem to be doing much when you're paying attention. This was just like that. At no point did I ever really feel like the line was moving, but after two friggin' hours I finally made it to the check out complete with the chuppa chup offered by the staff to placate my rage.

Two hours in a line and my mussels were losing fluid rapidly. I also felt a bit uneasy, not only about the wait and the weight of my goods, but for the fact that a steady trail of blood was in front of me and sticky beneath my shoes, having been dripped by the number of poor saps who had thought buying any sort of red meat was going to work out well.

Parking wasn't any better. The store's parking lot of course was full, so we had to park next door. That was $5 on top of the $60 membership we paid to join the obedient throngs in praise of the almighty red cube.

So will I go back? Yeah, but not in the next month, and never again on a weekend. I'll also be sure to be ready to buy a shitload of goods in bulk, making sure to bypass all of the weirdo items that seemed to be at every turn of an aisle. Who would have seriously thought that a store would need half an aisle full of nappies for grown women. Either there are a seriously high number of chicks into the whole adult baby thang in Australia, or senior citizens are in worse shape than I had generally imagined.

CostCo has a lot of potential. $5 for a massive bag of mussels leads me to this heavily researched conclusion. But DAMN - does it ever need to manage the crowds better!!

OK, it's after 4am, I've had my food, I no longer feel like I need to go for a jog after waking up at 1am, full of beans. Time to sleep.

Up for air

Finally a chance to slow down and take a breather!

The last few months have been the most hectic and life changing I've ever experienced. It's been highly enjoyable, but it is nice to have some time now to potter around the house, to work on some hobbies, do some character illustrations for a friend's book, and simply relax without having to be off to the next scheduled activity station in the playground of life.

I'm home alone. Mr. 2.5yrs old is off with his dad, Lucy is an hour away studying and I hve nothing to do except make some pumpkin bread for next week's lunches at work, do a touch of TAFE work, and stuff about, carefree and casual. Hurruh!

Before I do relax completely though, I would like to share an observation:

Melbourne trains are shit.

People in Sydney, Newcastle, Illawarra and the Mountains might complain about Cityrail, but believe me, they have got nothing on Connex for sheer incompetence. The wee before last there were as many as 100 cencellations on the Melbourne network - each day. Much of the blame was put on driver unions and the heat buckling rails, but that's a very poor cop-out. Had Connex and the VIC government bothered to give drivers comfortable conditions in the 40C+ temperatures, and allowed for gaps between rails to ensure they wouldn't buckle (seriously, they are so dumb as to weld rails together down here), there wouldn't be nearly a tenth as many issues to deal with.

I left home before 7:30am yesterday, and for a 50min trip, I didn't make it to work until 9:45am, and that was without the high temperatures and driver issues from the previous week.

Every morning and every evening I have to stand at the edge of the platform, playing door roulette, hoping I am able to guess where the train carriage will stop, so that I can get in first and HOPEFULLY get a seat. If Melbourne had doulbe decked trains there wouldn't be an issue like that anymore. Further, if Connex had trains with flip seats like Cityrail I wouldn't have to face strangers on most occasions, nor would people grumble as they attempt to share the little available leg space.

I like Melbourne a lot more than Sydney, but the latter has nothing on Melbourne's growing issues with public transport, electricity and water - all of which are issues that were supposedly in reverse not so long ago. It's a great place, but it's going to turn to shit soon if matters aren't handled appropriately right now.

Ch ch changes

A lot of time has passed, and many things have changed since my last blog update. Last time I wrote, about a month ago, I was living in the Blue Mountains and considering a move south to live with my girlfriend Lucy and her son. Since then I’ve taken the plunge, moved to Melbourne and we’ve also become engaged, tentatively setting a date for a late February wedding in the Mountains. Huzzah!!

I’m comfortable, happy, my fitness is continuing on its ever upward spiral thanks to my switch to an almost completely vegetarian diet, and I’m also enjoying what this city has to offer. I’m embracing Melbourne. It’s a laid back, culturally diverse, welcoming artistically enriching city and it fits with my own approach to life.

Life is very good.

I do miss my folks, brother and his family, regular karaoke and trivia nights and times with my mates in the ‘gow, but the rewards I’m reaping from my move and the satisfaction of being here with my fiancée are making the losses easier to deal with. This move has been a lot easier than I could have imagined.

I’ve lived all over NSW but never interstate. Being in a very close family has always made such a move one that I’d have been very unlikely to consider. It would take someone very special to convince me that it would be a smart move. Thankfully, it came quite easily, and Lucy didn’t have to work to convince me at all.

Melbourne

Two weeks in Melbourne and they flew by in the blink of an eye. In-between chasing Ethan around slippery dips, hanging clothes, cooking, washing dishes, spending quality time with my partner Lucy, and venturing into the city, I also had some time to check out a few genealogical details at the Library and VIC archives.

What I found out was quite interesting. Whilst my mother's family ties are limited in Victoria, my dad's are more extensive and showed up some fascinating details. Perhaps the most interesting being that I now know where my height comes from. My folks are both beneath the 6ft mark, whilst I'm 6ft 3. According to a cousin I spoke to, my great grandfather was 6ft 11. Quite a surprise, and a revelation that has me now revisiting the theory that he may have had African origins in addition to his well documented Aboriginal side.

I learnt that my great great grandfather owned 98 acres of land near Moama, 10% of which was sewn with wheat, that my great uncle was training to be a lawyer in the 1930's (unheard of for Aboriginal people in that era) and I unearthed a few more baffling genealogical mysteries.

Beyond my trips to the archives and library, looking through acres of fiche of the Sydney Morning Herald obituaries, some shipping records and electoral rolls, I also managed to dig out enough free time to check out Hellboy II. A fun flick, I quite enjoyed it.

Perhaps the highlight of my stay was pulling Lucy out of her choppy weekend routine and checking out both the Souths v Melbourne Storm game, and then a jaunt to Mount Donna Buang to show Ethan his first glimpse of snow.

Mount Donna Bunag is a bit under an hour north west from Melbourne, in the Yarra ranges past Healesville and close to Warburton. A warm day, we arrived with the expectation that we had probably arrived too late in the season to see any snow, so we took our time enjoying a rainforest walk on a lower slope of the mountain. The rainforest walk was a highlight, although I'm not sure if I was more disturbed by the 20 metre high canopy walkway that seemed less stable than a temporary rock show stage, or the strange photo that Lucy took of a tree that appears to have a few faces in it, peering back at the observer.

Beyond the oddity of the rainforest walk, it was highly enjoyable, and helped Ethan in learning how to count with each of the many steps he climbed. One.. two.. six.. zero.. he's getting there!

At the peak of ole' Donna was a sight we had expected. No snow.. until we looked beyond a shrub in the car park and Ethan found this pitiful excuse for powder...

Looks excited, no?

Anyway, after climbing the observation/suicide platform, we saw that there was still quite a bit of snow down the side of the plateau and we climbed down to explore it. Much better, a nice covering which was more than enough for Ethan and Lucy to make a snowman. Well, kind of...


In all, a great day out and a wonderful two weeks. I can't wait to go back.

Change

Back to Lithgow after two highly enjoyable weeks in Melbourne and I already miss the place. Well, I don't miss Melbourne much, but I am looking forward to seeing my partner and her lad Ethan again soon.

The two week trip helped me experience a solid taste of what sort of life will await me when I move to Melbourne permanently in November, and I'm very excited for what the future holds after experiencing that taste.

Life in Melbourne and with Lucy is a lot faster paced than what I'm accustomed to, but it is not an uncomfortable difference. I'm not an early morning person, but waking sometimes at 3 or 4am to let a 2 year old into the room to sleep with his mum, and then waking again at 6am and earlier for the start to the day are efforts easily adapted to, at least once I let go of my usual late night routine of reading and writing. Up at 6am, to bed no later than 10.30pm.. it's very different, but my body has appreciated the change.

I'm also liking the overall healthier lifestyle I've slipped into. I now eat very little meat, have had a chance to walk more than an hour each day, spend the weekends out and about, even if it is only to walk to the State Library and locking myself away there reading microfiche, or at VIC Archives giving the staff there a workout.

Perhaps one point that I need to work on however is that especially with my new responsibilities of looking after an extremely energetic 2 year old I also have a lot less time to look after my own hobbies, pursuits and indeed keep up with people outside of the 3 person unit I've happily welded myself into.

Less reading, less emailing and less conversation. It's a good thing that I don't watch TV because I wouldn't have the time for it now even if I wanted.

On the other hand - there's more emotional fulfilment, happiness and I also have a renewed sense of purpose and vigour in regard to the future. I don't believe that I've ever been as happy.

A serious blog post? Yeah whatever next! Later I'll write about what I've actually been filling my time with in Melbourne over the past two weeks.

BOOOOO!

Well, Melbourne Storm have won the Grand Final, defeating Manly Sea-Eagles in the process and taking the wind out of a mate's sails this evening. The score? I have no idea. Don't care. It's been a good day full of shifting my brother's furniture, rounded out nicely with a barbeque at said mate's house. I wasn't particularly fond of either team playing in the game, but for his sake I was sorry to see Manly lose, even if in general I quite dislike them. Anyway, the loss was soon forgotten and drowned out with a ready mix of beer and karaoke at the pub down the road. For the record, I sang 500 Miles (by the Proclaimers) and then headed home, more than likely to loud applause in the false reality in which I reside.

If this post is somewhat disjointed then I shall have to ask you to leave and come back when beer hasn't had a slight influence upon my already meagre skills as a writer.