You and I had a little quarrel before I left you during the long Easter weekend. I was tired of hearing the announcer at the train station saying, “This train has been delayed for approximately five minutes. City Rail apologises for any inconvenience this has caused” for the millionth time. I gave up on finding the perfect cup of coffee. I was getting fed up on budgeting my weekly expenses. With these little flaws, I chucked a tantrum and flew down to this city:
Melbourne. The city vibrates with energy and excitement well into the night. I believe it's to do with the ubiquitous amounts of cafes at the end of every street. Is it now one cafe per person? I drank two cups of chai latte and I couldn't sleep for three days. Is that normal? I wanted to get some shut-eye, but it never happened. Also, I never cooked anything in Melbourne. The delights of Lygon Street kept my tum tum filled for three days.
It is also a city that can laugh at itself. When I was searching around the mountains of vintage accessories at the Camberwell Markets, my eyes glanced over the scribbling sign of a cathode ray monitor which is sold at the total price of:
Melbourne was showing off their International Comedy Festival, especially Swanston Street where the grand Melbourne Town Hall was located. People were glinting their eyes over the portico to examine the huge list of shows of each night. The building's tower were decorated with multiple colours and flags and laughter filled the Melbourne CBD. I laughed so hard at Jeff Green's show I think I peed my pants.
Everything was going along fine until I saw the Docklands ferris wheel - where the Victorian Government spent $40 million on it. Actually that's a lie, it wasn't even a ferris wheel. There was no wheel on it. I scratched myself and wondered, why Melbourne, why? Aren't you content with the amount of comedy festivals, cafes and restaurants you show-off to the citizens of Victoria and tourists?
Then I heard people gibbering in the background complaining how Safeway is now being called Woolworths, and how they refused to call it Woolworths. These name changes are annoying and since I'm from NSW, I can relate to this. There was this shed I affectionately called Grace Bros. One day, some head honcho from Melbourne decided to change the name to Myer. We took it on the chin and went ahead with our chaotic lives. Now you know how it feels to screw over a state.
The honeymoon period was over. I craved for a city that preferred busyness over mellowness. I wanted to be back to a city where the roads weren't all straight lines and ninety-degree angles, or the fact that a city was designed in a grid-like manner.
I know every city has its flaws and I need to accept that. I also have to stop placing high expectations on anything, even innate objects. I act like a pratty school-girl who wanted everything her way. The only thing I can say to you Sydney is: