Melbourne

The Harbour Esplanade, Melbourne Docklands

On the overnight bus between Sydney and Melbourne, I spent much of the time staring out the window, trying to make sense of the black blurs passing as night-time landscapes. I was reflecting – yet again – on how my many months spent riding the buses in the more developed countries of South America had left me with the notion that riding buses anywhere else was going to suck. I spent twelve hours wedged into a seat barely adequate for my not-outrageously-sized frame (apparently just an inch above the Australian average height for men); relegated to a seat near the back of the bus, next to a washroom emitting a disconcertingly lingering odour. My one and only experience with Greyhound Australia did nothing to challenge my bus-travel preconceptions.

As the conditions were not exactly conducive to sleep, I had time to reflect upon plenty of things. Like the smudges marring my view out the window, and the lint emanating from the cloth cover of the seat-back in front. I also spent a lot of time thinking about, the conditions of the bus notwithstanding, how much I was looking forward to arriving at my destination.

I was looking forward to seeing an aunt and uncle for the first time in over five years. I was looking forward to catching up with a couple of old school chums for the first time in over a decade and a half. I was also looking forward to the city itself. Through my travels, I'd run into plenty of people who had had the chance to visit both Sydney and Melbourne, and the vast consensus was that people preferred Melbourne. I was having trouble wrapping my head around this. I'd enjoyed the Hell out of my time in Sydney and I couldn't see how Melbourne would live up to those standards.

To the uninformed and uninitiated outsider, Sydney is Australia. Speak of either and images are conjured of the Opera House and Harbour Bridge, of buxom women on Bondi Beach and the Olympics of the New Millenium. To contrast, I travelled down that darkened highway knowing next to nothing about Melbourne. Melbourne obviously needs better press because, as I was to discover, the city definitely holds its own.

I don't believe Sydney and Melbourne are directly comparable.

Sydney is Australia Wow! It has the iconic architecture and the superlative beaches. The extensive Sydney central business district (CBD) houses the country's financial and economic engine. There exists a certain excitement and glitz and polish; like an A-list Hollywood starlet ambling down a red carpet, modelling the latest Marchesa creation, whilst decked out in billions of dollars of borrowed jewelry.

Melbourne is more comfortable and laid-back. It is a city of cafés and live-music venues and funky art galleries. Melbourne is the sports centre of the nation; home to multiple Aussie Rules, rugby union, rugby league and association football teams; and, every January, it hosts the Australian Open grand-slam tennis tournament. Melbourne seems to have a certain down-home soul, like the pretty girl next door who ventures out to the local bookstore wearing Uggs; well-worn jeans; and a warm, form-fitting cashmere sweater.

Centre Court, Rod Laver Arena, at the 2010 Australian Open

My aunt and uncle were doing a some travelling of their own, so I spent my first five days staying in a hostel on the edge of Fitzroy, just opposite the Melbourne Museum. The day after my arrival was Australia Day, to which my fellow travellers and I paid homage with some shrimp on the barbie and an afternoon chilling to the delightful 80s music stylings of John Farnham and Men at Work.

My trip to Melbourne also coincided with the 2010 Australian Open, and I had the chance to experience a touch of tennis when I scored a ticket to the Day 10 afternoon session at Rod Laver Arena. Okay, I'm being facetious when said I experienced a mere "touch" of tennis. I had purchased my ticket a few days previously; with little grasp of the schedule other than the knowledge that both the Men's and Women's Singles tournaments would be into the quarter-finals, and a vague idea that the best match-ups would be saved for the (more expensively priced) evening session. Instead, I got my money's worth and more. I got to see both number-one seeds play. I sat through three matches; watching Roger Federer, Serena Williams and Venus Williams all attempt to make it into the semi-finals. All the eventual winners lost the first set somewhat badly. Both women's singles matches also involved a tie-break. And Davydenko nearly pushed Federer to a fifth set. It was almost six hours of fantastic tennis, with my only regret being that I didn't bring more sunscreen.

Not Quite Match Point, Li Na vs. Venus Williams

Match Point, Serena Williams vs. Victoria Azarenka

Match Point, Roger Federer vs. Nikolay Davydenko

Once my aunt and uncle returned to Melbourne, I enthusiastically took them up on their kind offer to shift my lodging to the Docklands. The Melbourne Docklands is a district in flux, the focus of a massive, still-in-progress urban renewal project that started in earnest in in the early 2000s. Situated in betwixt vestiges of the area's former life as an industrial and shipping hub; spring the landmark Docklands Stadium; high-priced, high-rise condominiums; trendy restaurants; new corporate headquarters; and parklands and esplanades dotted with contemporary artwork sculptures. The location is fantastic – given its walking-distance proximity to Southern Cross Station transport hub and the Melbourne CBD – but the area lacks the dynamism and organic feel of a more lived-in and older neighbourhood. I say give it another decade or three.

Interior of the Old Melbourne Gaol

As far as grand natural vistas go, Melbourne is about an hour's drive from the closest end of the Great Ocean Road; a 243-kilometre-long stretch of coastal road which passes alongside an abundance of natural limestone and sandstone towers, arches, stacks and other erosion-driven formations. The entire road, built by returned Australian WWI veterans, also serves as the largest war memorial in the world. I grabbed a rental car one brilliant, sunny morning; holstering my camera and a handful of memory cards; and then spent the entire day driving and photographing the length of the road. Or at least I would have, had a wallet displacement not occurred in Peru leading to the unfortunate dispossession of my driver's license. The drive is on the list for the next trip.

The Queen Victoria Market

I spent a good amount of time revelling in the company of family and old friends. There were quiet, home-cooked meals; sushi during the downtown office lunch rush; and pints in the bars along South Yarra's Chapel Street. In between, I amused myself by exploring the Queen Victoria Market, the Old Melbourne Gaol and getting in photo walks around the CBD and amongst the artwork in the Docklands.

Looking Down the Yarra River, between the Hoddle Grid and Southbank

I felt at home in Melbourne, and it wasn't just because I was around family and close friends. Melbourne is the one city in the world that most reminded me of Toronto. It is a city of neighbourhoods. It is a city of the occasional overt excellence, but is more about the hidden gems. It is a city that cannot be fully appreciated unless you get down and dirty and really explore and examine and experience.

Sydney is the city I'd rather visit. Melbourne is the city in which I'd rather live.

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