Country girl likes the big smoke
The location of our upbringing has a large impact on how we view the world. Since moving to Melbourne from North East Victoria at the start of the year, I’ve observed many differences between my lifestyle in the city and the country. Formerly known as a country bumpkin, I embrace the dichotomy where it suits me—like in conversations with Melburnians, bragging about how easy traffic is where I’m from. Thirty minutes in the car can take you to a completely different city.
Despite being over 200 kilometres from home, I rarely feel alone in Fitzroy. The narrow footpaths bustle with people, pets, prams, and everything in between (even travelling carrots). There’s always a pub within walking distance, providing an impossible-to-miss happy hour special, and a foundation for making new friends with the locals. And if I don’t want to walk home, ordering an Uber is wildly convenient compared to the hard-knock days spent walking to McDonald’s and calling the local taxi number from there.
The taxi driver and I would arrive at my door safely within ten minutes. Often they’d say, “Ah yes, I’ve been to this house before”, which always cast worry over me. Had they also seen me in this intoxicated state before? Melburnians don’t have to worry about knowing the driver. You can order a car and avoid reuniting with the same person who saw you awkwardly kiss someone in front of Yah Yah’s two weeks ago. What a luxury!
Speaking of luxuries, Uber Eats is wonderful and Brunswick Street alone has more cuisine options than my entire hometown. Melbourne has more than three restaurants open every night of the week, and an authentic Pad Thai goes down better than a less-than-fresh cheeseburger from the drive-thru. Meanwhile, on countless occasions, I have found myself semi-embarrassed in my work break room, shame cast over me by coworkers who cannot believe I don’t know what San Churro is—or that I’ve never tried bubble tea.
Scenery-wise, the city and the countryside are picturesque in their own ways. At home, I take every opportunity to go for a drive to admire the rolling hills and say “Horse!” every time we pass a horse. The city scenery is special in a different way: lit-up theatres, beautiful heritage doors and towering skyscrapers. It’s like looking straight out at an episode of Suits and makes the stressfulness of city driving worth it. Although when we came to Melbourne for year seven camp I didn’t enjoy the Eureka Skydeck, I have always adored the city—even if after two months of living here I’d already had an attempted break-in. I called the police immediately. (A few weeks later, my mum called local authorities back home to report an escapee cow on the side of the highway. Both are valid reasons to call triple zero, even if they’re two files that wouldn’t be found at the same station.)
In small country towns, you’re almost always bound to see someone you know up the street. Although I miss aspects of the familiarity back home, I like the anonymity of life in the big smoke. It brings an opportunity to rebrand myself that I’m grabbing with both hands. In Fitzroy, I’ve found a flair for the thrill of shopping. No two outfits are the same here, although conservative country residents would argue that ‘people are getting dressed in the dark’. But I like these mismatched outfits being paraded down the runway that is Brunswick Street. Fitzroy folk, thank you for the warm welcome, please never change.
Originally featured in the October 2024 edition of The Rotunda.
