Yahoo News Melbourne is Australia’s most liveable city and I finally understand why
I was recently walking my dog in my local council area, which is so deep in suburbia that the SUVs have smaller SUVs as pets and activewear is a kind of class system. In this park, there is a conservation area full of beautiful native trees, it had been raining and my dog was wearing a sweet little jacket. I was walking there, between the ferns and eucalypts, wet with winter, and I thought: “Well, this is quite nice.”
Melbourne was recently again crowned the most liveable city in Australia and 10th in the world, beating Sydney (13th in the world) and well ahead of everywhere else. Ironically, after the couple of years we’ve had, I think I finally understand why.
A bit more than 20 years ago, I was a reluctant transplant to Melbourne. Adelaide has, of course, also been named Australia’s most liveable city (and the world’s). It also has a brown river and an overblown sense of its own loveliness; what could Melbourne offer me that was any different?
For some time, I remained sceptical. But the pandemic changed me. During lockdowns one through six, a strange thing began to happen.
In the winter of 2020, when we had all been inside our houses for longer than was strictly humane or hygienic, I wrote a piece for the Guardian about how isolated the city felt. To us, nowhere else had any concept of what we were going through. There were a few tense days when we had the tightest restrictions in the world.
Related: How Melbourne became a city of homebodies | Anna Spargo-Ryan
With our borders closed we waited, poised by our laptops at 11am every day, to hear whether we might be allowed out for a quick trip to Readings (the answer was always “no”).
Something about that experience was quintessentially Melbourne. We were exactly as affected as the town that spawned Ben Mendelsohn should be. Only Melbourne could have the longest, hardest lockdown in the world. It made perfect sense.
And it was during that time, while I watched virtual concerts and ordered groceries online, that I realised something that might sincerely have changed my life forever: I love Melbourne.
I don’t love everything about it. To be serious, this is a punitive city. It demands order, and panics when it loses control. That came into sharp focus during lockdown, too – singling out vulnerable groups, fining the people who could least afford it, then feeling sad when there were no drivers available to deliver our favourite curry. Melbourne can be, as many control freaks are, quick to blame and pass the buck. It could benefit from seeing a good therapist, if one were available.
But I do still love it, a bit. Why? Because it vibrates with the same nervous energy as I do.
This is not a relaxed place. It takes itself remarkably seriously. For a coastal city, it has a strong inland vibe. Melbourne has the same spirit as someone who always uses a bookmark, who calls eating biscuits “being a bit naughty”, and who sets five alarms to wake up in time for yoga. Melbourne is Offspring, but somehow even more Offspring.
This city is adorably up itself. I love that it thinks it invented laneways. I love that it retains its old architecture by building new architecture directly on top of it. I love that it thinks it’s the only place with baristas and sourdough, and that there’s a running joke about everyone wearing black but, actually, everyone does wear black. I love that we have an unspoken agreement to never, ever cross the river in case someone sees us and writes about it in mx (RIP).
I love the looming face of the Dandenongs and the aggressive greyness of the Bay. I love that where there isn’t any art, Melbourne insists on adding art. This is a city that wants other people to hear what it has to say and feels uneasy when no one is listening. If a town could have an attachment disorder, Melbourne would.
The official report lists infrastructure as a redeeming feature of this town, although that benefit won’t be immediately clear to anyone living in outer suburbs or ever trying to catch a train to East Richmond. It also notes education as a strong point, despite the growing teacher shortage putting a question-mark alongside that.
Maybe the real reasons are harder to articulate. Not feeling embarrassed to send back a brunch order during peak Saturday service. Going to an international comedy festival but not laughing at the Melbourne jokes. A sense of camaraderie with every other poor bastard sitting on the Westgate or the Monash or Eastlink at 6pm on a Friday.
Is this the most liveable city in Australia? I’m not convinced. But ask me if it’s my most liveable city in Australia and I will tell you – reluctantly at first, then all at once – yes; unlike any other place in the world, Melbourne understands me exactly.
