Note that this piece was originally published in January 2022.
I've just come home from a rather wonderful, yet messy time, visiting my beloved Sydney and beloved best friends there. Despite the impending tidal wave of Omicron, I had to go as one of the aforementioned best friends, Mark, had flown all the way from London to grace us with his presence. I wasn't just going to sit around in Melbourne, full of Pfizer, after three years of not seeing my soulmate now, was I?
The journey there was one of the most stressful airline/airport/general transport experiences of my life - and I say that as a relatively well-seasoned traveller. After spending the day before departure meticulously slimming down my Sydney itinerary, so I could come home earlier and hopefully dodge the spicy flu, so far so good, I received a text message saying my flight was cancelled. Great. This message came through just as I'd begun walking around Fitzroy Gardens in order to get some respite from my stressful day.
It then occurred to me that neither covid nor Jetstar would stand in my way of me getting up to Sydney - not this time! So I went home, packed in 20 minutes flat (unheard of), arrived at the airport in activewear (against my religion) and flew up to Sydders on the last Qantas flight of the day.
Whilst Sydney was a total ghost town, with as many empty shops and bars and streets as you could envision, I was reminded there of the sense of lightness which Melbourne lacks. I have written about this before, actually after my last trip to Sydney. Equally I am a lot more enamoured with Melbourne these days, to the point where I officially refer to myself as a Melburnian (cringe). However why does Melbourne insist on being so bloody sensible.
As fun and fabulous as Melbourne can often be it's also painfully serious. Everybody is serious. Seriously single, seriously in a relationship, seriously hip, seriously stylish, seriously saving for a house, etc, etc, etc. Here we don't just go into lockdown but have to go into the longest lockdown in the entire world just to prove how serious we are. The seriousness and sensibleness is exhausting.
For example, two months ago I went to a house party. There I spent the evening having a serious conversation with a seriously gorgeous man until I had to leave rather abruptly because my friend was seriously drunk and seriously needed to go to bed. I made sure to follow up though, asking the connecting friend for this blokes number. Rather than handing it over the situation has escalated to involve multiple people having deep discussions on how suited this handsome stranger and I really are. Honestly, why can't a girl just go for a drink and see what happens?
Why can't we just live in the froth?
The beauty of Sydney is that it's all about beauty. Yes, the superficiality becomes exhausting and unsustainable after a while, but the ability to lighten up there is much more attainable. In Sydney people care about clothes, cars and casual shagging. You can have a light conversation with just about anyone. In Sydney, they live in the froth.
It's not just about Sydney vs Melbourne either, but rather Melbourne vs everywhere else. I have been blessed with the opportunity to live abroad again later this year, thus my mind is switching back to the international place it used to be. When I think of all the other cities I've experienced, and the other cities I've lived in, London, Wellington, Catania, I realise the Melbourne needs to relax a little!
So, to my fellow Melburnians, let's please keep being the culture capital and being clued up on politics, but now and then let's also lighten up and rise to the top of the coup. The froth is where the real fun is.
Image via Pinterest.
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