Melbourne
Recently named the world’s most locked-down city (over 267 days), Melbourne has been quiet for a long time. Prior to lockdown I might have been in the city once, twice, or even three times a week for a range of reasons. Majority of them were good except for when I used to go into the city before seeing my Psychologist in Carlton every Tuesday evening. It was just a bit of a drag.
Since lockdown however, my times in the city have been few and far between and I have lost my connection to what was once the most liveable city seven years in a row. And has been my home forever.
It’s not some huge mystery as to how it happened. We weren’t allowed to leave the house and the CBD was not within any of the distances from home that we were allowed to travel for one of the few reasons we could leave the house.
I often think wistfully about New York, I imagine myself living in London and I often think of walking around Italy. Just wandering. I even reflect on the buzzy nature of Tokyo, desperate to get back as soon as Covid will allow. These feelings are confirmed by the Nora Ephron films set in Big Apple which I swoon over. The number of Mhairi McFarlane books that are set in English cities I know of by name but have zero understanding of where they are geographically. The vlogs featuring influencers traipsing around Milan and Florence, impractical shoes on cobble stones. *
But I struggle to think of things that connect me to Melbourne. There’s Offspring which I didn’t watch past a certain season (RIP Patrick) and most recently The Newsreader (which is set in the 80s so it’s great but it’s not a Melbourne I’m familiar with). There’s Kath and Kim which will always be worth it. And whilst it makes me laugh there’s nothing sentimental or romantic about it. Sometimes I think of books by Christos Tsiolkas or Helen Garner because I recognise the names of the streets and the suburbia which they share with us. A quick search of the internet revealed that only 44 books are set in Melbourne. Of which I have only read a few. There’s a lot of films shot in Melbourne, but I don’t know how many of them were about Melbourne. In fact, when I think of Melbourne TV, I think of the Underbelly franchise and Jack Irish, shows which throw around the names of Fitzroy and Lygon Street repeatedly.
In lockdown I couldn’t go to any of these places, I wasn’t having any experiences and I escaped to everywhere but Melbourne. I would daydream about walking down Bourke Street or going for dinner along Smith Street but then would get lost in Los Angeles or any one of the other cities I mentioned earlier. All via a book or YouTube or whatever cop show I was too busy devouring at the time. And Media is tricky. Often all filmed on a backlot we are to believe that they are in Italy or France and not some studio next to where they film Ellen.
I read Broadsheet daily. Not for any reason specifically but because it reminds me of a part of Melbourne. The part that claims we have good food and things happening. It also reminds me that this is where I live. Technology may mean we can work from anywhere but that should be so where you live comes first. Not as a sacrifice to that.
So, I am looking forward to the restrictions easing at the end of this week, not just so that I can see people indoors, on a chair but because I want to just be in Melbourne, wherever that may be. Hopefully I will start to feel a sense of belonging and an anchor to home.
*I should not judge. When I went to Italy, I wore a brand-new pair of Doc Martens on the first day which killed my feet to the point where I lost a toenail and saw me hobble around for the rest of my European adventure.