Is Melbourne home?

I was browsing the online version of The Age newspaper today, and came across an amusing article. The full text, by Catherine Deveney, is here (be advised that it’s rated PG). She listed a large number of things that let you know if you’re from Melbourne. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that, having lived there for over 10 years now, so many of them resonate quite strongly. I have commented on a few of them below (Catherine Deveney’s text is in red).

YOU know you’re from Melbourne if …

– When diarising anything in September you first consult the footy fixture.

Hah! Two nights ago I emailed Matthew—who is running the Scout Troop in my absence—to discuss the possibility of a hike on one of the days that I am in transit between Hobart and Oxford. One of those days is, of course, grand final day … so I guess we won’t be having the hike that day.

– You were shocked when you found out not all street directories are called Melway.

Having come from a place where every single bigger-than-village sized town in the entire state was included in the street directory, I was used to a directory not called Melway … but I’ll confess it was a surprise to realise there was something called a Sydway.

– You know Sunshine, Rosebud and the Caribbean Gardens are not as good as they sound.

Okay, two of these I know (AND I know they are not as good as they sound); but where is Caribbean Gardens? (Mind you, I can already TELL that one is not going to be as good as it thinks it sounds!).

– You refer to rococo furniture as “very Franco Cozzo”.

Ahh, NOW I know what rococo furniture is! I drive past one of his showrooms from time to time. Yes, VERY Franco Cozzo!

– You felt betrayed when you discovered Melbourne was not the only place in the world with trams.

And you feel obliged NOT to concede that those other places just might have better ticketing systems. (And yet you know you are defending the indefensible.)

– You’re not happy Melbourne has been voted the World’s Most Liveable City. You’d prefer it was voted “Most Enigmatic, Tortured And Slightly Dangerous City”.

I’ve been living here long enough to know that whoever awarded this clearly didn’t check out the public transport. Figuring out the rail system in Seoul is easier than working out what train to catch in Flinders Street Station.

– You’ve looked out the window of Puffing Billy and waved like an idiot at the cars at the railway crossing. And you’ve watched Puffing Billy pass as you sat in a car at the railway crossing, and waved like an idiot.

Yep, done that. Mind you, I might have felt sillier if I hadn’t had my niece with me!

– You don’t judge people on their looks, wealth or status but on the bread they buy, the coffee they serve and the newspaper they read.

You’ll notice that I found this article in The Age. One of the annoying things about being in Hobart at the moment is that the local rag is a sibling of the Herald Sun, with all that implies. Coffee and bread are areas in which I declare myself to be inexpert … although I know far more about the former (from a theoretical standpoint) than I did 10 years ago.

– Your kid’s favourite foods are sushi, spanakopita and felafel. Which are also the names of the three kids they sit next to at school.

Very droll! One of the things I enjoy about Melbourne—and, in fact, Australia in general—is the great variety of food that can be tried and enjoyed. Want a cuisine? We’ve got it. And usually just around the corner.

– You think Aberfeldie is a tartan, Coonan’s Hill is a wine and South Wharf is in Sydney.

I am even more Melburnian than this. I KNOW WHERE the first two are (and that they are not THINGS), since I live not far from them. South Wharf, on the other hand, I can only guess at (actually, perhaps it’s a wine!!!). Despite my success with Aberfeldie and Coonan’s Hill, I have to confess that there are still probably 150 or so suburb names you could throw at me and I wouldn’t have the foggiest idea where they are.

– Chopper Read, Ned Kelly, Squizzy Taylor, the Morans and the Williamses. Sure they’re crims, but we all agree they’ve given the place colour.

It’s been a bit weird having all this “colour” going on, just over in the next suburb (and the next suburb in the other direction … and the one next door to that as well). Yet for all the “colour”, it has been like Melbourne has a parallel universe and I’ve only been aware of this “colour” in the news. (And, besides, I lived three doors up from a murderer for several years in Tasmania, so it’s not as if “colour” is restricted to Melbourne.)

– You lose respect for friends if they move over the other side of the river.

Ah, yes. Rivers. They do tend to define more than just geography. I believe I am on the underdog—and therefore better—side of the river in Melbourne, and have not sold my soul to the bourgeois other side. Ditto for Hobart. Perhaps I’m just a perpetual underdog.

So, am I really from Melbourne?! How well would I do in response to a Hobart list? What ARE the aspects of a place that define our sense of belonging there?

This last question is quite important to me, because I think that places do shape our identities and define us in ways that are difficult to describe. All my new experiences in new places are benchmarked and contrasted with the shape of landscapes I already know, so I have built up my picture of the world from those early senses of place. This is why Mt Wellington has been such a touchstone, because it plays such a strong role in shaping the city of Hobart beneath it … and it’s always interesting to encounter other cities (especially including flat Melbourne) that work in different ways.

Enough rambling. It’s time for this Hobartian-Melburnian-Newfoundlander to sign off.

PS I think I already knew roughly what rococo meant, but if you need a definition, Franco Cozzo really nails it.