The age-old Melbourne versus Sydney debate is one I’ve found myself at the centre of countless times since moving to the sunny north from my southern hometown. While I think each city has its own appeal, an analogy offered by a visiting American perhaps sums it up best: Sydney is the mistress, Melbourne’s the wife.
Sydney, the mistress, is like a stunning blonde. Few people could see her and not be captured by her beauty – her gorgeous beaches, clear blue skies and breathtaking harbour. She’s sexy and fit, tanned and not afraid to flaunt a bit of skin. Her fashion sense is bright, laid back and beach-ready. She loves the sunshine and worships the sea, surf and sand.
As a city, she’s exciting. A tad flashy, but easygoing too. She’s just as much at ease drinking beers and watching an NRL game at the pub as she is hanging out at a summer music festival, dancing at a late-night bar in Kings Cross or getting wild at Mardi Gras. A real good-time girl, she’s captivating and always has you coming back for more.
Melbourne, the wife, is like a chic brunette. Dark, multicultural and pretty, she can seem reserved at first, but she’s full of surprises. Invest some time getting to know her and you’ll discover her cool alley bars and laneway boutiques. She’s intellectual and cultured with a love of fashion, music and the arts, but also has a soft spot for sport.
Regardless of the season, Melbourne spends her days ‘doing coffee’ and exploring bookshops and galleries. There is strong support for local talent, particularly in the creative and culinary industries – two things she does well. By night, you’ll find her at a theatre show, gig, drinking pots at the pub or sharing dinner with friends. While she may not grab your attention initially, Melbourne’s the girl that you tend to develop a lifelong love for.