Melbourne is where coffee becomes an art form, enjoyed by all on public display. Melbourne is tattooed foreign-waiters, easy charm and cooler than cool. Melbourne is buying your bread in Italian, and your fish in Greek. Melbourne is dumplings in China town, after drinking on rooftops all night. Melbourne is hot; Melbourne is fresh. Melbourne is young and doesn’t have a care. Melbourne has art all over, and is an artwork itself. Melbourne is the big cities sister who moved to the sea, born of that immigrant DNA. Melbourne made itself out of the parts that came its way.
Friday, 26 November 2010
I had a blog that I was trying to write on Melbourne as a Glowing Young Ruffians post. It started off in an Italian deli, took you through an Argentinian cafe, and ended up at a Greek family dinner. But for one reason or another it was becoming something of a problem blog; the type I write and think 'this is shite, I will come back to it later'. Which I do, and I bash away again- and still think its crap, only to come back again later and realise it is actually worse than crap, and it needs to be abandoned quickly before it and I build any kind of a bond.
To cut a long story short (something that I am learning is at the core of being able to write anything at all well) as part of an assignment for my MA, I had to write about a place in exactly 100 words, and I thought; What better way to kill two seagulls with one very small stone. So here, instead of a thousand or so words on my current place of residence, is a very concise blog on why I like Melbourne: