Susie O’Brien: Why everything we love to hate is a tram ride away

As restrictions ease and we slip back into daily life, memories are returning of how things don’t always go our way in a great city like Melbourne, writes Susie O’Brien.

Let’s enjoy four seasons in one day: overcast, drizzly, windy and freezing — and that’s in late December. Picture: Daniel Pockett

Let’s Melbourne Again is a campaign by some of our leading businesses to invigorate our beloved city.

“Let’s get ready to walk the bluestones again,” their ads say.

“Let’s queue for dimmys.”

“Let’s wear the blackest black.”

“Let’s Gertrude. Let’s Bay. Let’s Burke. Let’s Hoddle.”

Too right, although for most people it’s more like “Let’s Centre Dandenong Rd. Let’s Warrigal Rd. Let’s Dingley Bypass”.

Melbourne, we’re back. For a long time, we’ve had no traffic jams, no need to line up for anything and no waistbands on our pants.

Now we’re being jolted back to reality. There are crowds, there is traffic and some of us have even had to stop cuddling the dogs on the couch and get back to work.

But as restrictions are easing and we’re slipping back into daily life, I’m already remembering that things don’t always go our way in a great city like ours.

Here’s my list of what it really means to “Melbourne Again”.

Let’s queue up for everything. Picture: David Crosling

Let’s spend 2½ hours getting nowhere on the Tulla. Or the Monash or the Eastern.

Let’s pay $75 for three hours in a multistorey carpark in the city.

Let’s get stuck in traffic jams in the suburbs at 3.30pm because mums think the middle of the road is a good place to let kids get out of the car.

Let’s choose a house to buy solely on the basis of the high school zone it’s in.

Let’s queue up for everything — the loos at the races, P turns on Hoddle St, and getting out of the MCG car park.

Let’s also line up outside a city rooftop bar that decides it’s full just when you get to the top of the line.

Let’s drink VB instead of a trendy organic biodynamic craft beer made of beard yeast and carbonated sweat.

Let’s have a steak and chips at the Templestowe Hotel instead of going to a pretentious Flinders Lane restaurant with a celebrity chef who underpays staff.

Let’s go to the races in an expensive outfit that gets trashed by lunchtime.

Let’s bet on a “sure thing” running in the Melbourne Cup and lose lots of money. Let’s tell white lies about exactly how much we lost.

Let’s enjoy four seasons in one day: overcast, drizzly, windy and freezing — and that’s in late December.

Let’s get day drunk with our mates sitting at tables plonked on footpaths because it’s now legal.

Let’s line up at Kmart Burwood to buy $4 pantry containers and air fryers at midnight.

Let’s find a pretentious cafe and order an avocado equalatte with blue algae, extra hot. Or may “an instant white with one” to really give the barista the irrits.

Let’s catch a tram that takes 55 minutes to travel 3km.

Let’s complain about how you can’t buy a myki card on a train — or even at a station.

Let’s catch a tram and marvel at the willingness of so many people not to tap on or tap off.

Let’s get off a tram because inspectors got on and we didn’t tap on either.

Let’s go to the Queen Vic Market and choose from one of the 2763 offensive slogan T-shirts on sale and buy a boomerang made in China.

Let’s catch a tram that takes 55 minutes to travel 3km. Picture: Rob Leeson

But let’s also buy cannoli, hot jam doughnuts and the best prosciutto in Melbourne.

Let’s drink low-intervention biodynamic wines in the inner city. Nah, let’s not. Let’s drink real beer in pubs in the outer suburbs.

Let’s judge our friends by the football teams they barrack for. Let’s not talk footy for the next 12 months while smug Richmond fans bang on about Dusty’s Dynasty.

Let’s go on a tour of gangland shooting hot-spots and reminisce about how good Gyton Grantley was as Carl Williams in Underbelly.

Let’s spend five minutes trying to decode city parking signs that have allow 15 minutes of parking at five different times of day, with different rules for each day of the week.

Let’s go on the Melbourne Star and admire the city’s finest rooftops and industrial wastelands as they pass by at walking pace.

Let’s try to find a park at Crown on a Saturday night.

Let’s get stuck in roadworks. Again. Let’s try not to hit cyclists on Beach Rd on Sunday mornings, even though it’s tempting at times.

Let’s enjoy getting our lives back. Love ya, Melbourne.

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Susie O’Brien is a Herald Sun columnist

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