Canberra is not for me. Now remember, this is my personal
opinion and perspective – not a mindless criticism. I’m all about connection
and Canberra and I just didn’t connect. We didn’t fall in love. We didn’t even
want to go out on a second date.
To me Canberra feels odd and perplexing. It’s as though
someone designed a great city, built a great city but forgot to
populate it sufficiently to fulfil its potential. The motorways and multi-lane
freeways crossings chasms of empty space in such an effectively tiny city just
seem like a mockery. I couldn’t fathom why everything was so spread out and far
apart. The National Gallery, the Portrait Gallery and the National Library sit
alongside each other – with about a kilometre of parking space and lawned area
between each. Why? At the very least they could have installed a travelator
between them.
War Memorial |
There are wonderful things to see and do in Canberra – the
War Memorial is sensitive and moving, the Botanic Gardens are charming and
beautiful, and the galleries and museums are tremendous. I just couldn’t find
the heart of Canberra. I couldn’t find its city heart. I like my city to behave like a city – but how do I define
that? Its mall was like every other mall. Its shopping complex was like every
other shopping complex. The people that wandered the mall and shopping complex
were sophisticated, stylish people. But those qualities [deficiencies?] are not
exclusive to Canberra. There’s nothing disparaging to say about Canberrians
because they are regular people – some cool, some artistic, some fit and
healthy jogging on a Saturday morning, others drunk and out on the town on
Friday night.
But in the mall on Sunday two skateboarders zoomed past me….
both at least in their 30s. One was sadly balding, the other had a cap with
greasy lank hair poking out, both had oversized t-shirts and baggy pants. No
one but me gave them a second look.
While standing at a city pedestrian crossing on a Sunday
afternoon, I waited for the only car within miles of sight to pass by and then
stepped out against the little red ‘don’t walk’ sign. The guy driving by me in
his van looked at me askance, incredulous – as though I were trying to cross a
seven lane freeway on roller skates, with a small pig clutched under my arm. He
shook his head, I imagine muttering something like, ‘these damn kids of today’.
There’s a laid back country feel to Canberra that is in
contrast with its city status. To me, Canberra was perfectly illustrated by the
following. Angela, my travelling companion – a highly successful, highly
pressured partner in a high profile Sydney law firm – almost lost the plot
when a McDonald’s cashier took my payment for a bottle of water, diligently
printed out a service receipt and laid it down carefully in the appropriate
place, ready for the service person to attend to. The fridge was behind the
cashier. It wasn’t particularly busy. Angela started tapping her foot and
crossing her arms, frowning. I confirmed, politely, that it was just the bottle
of water I wanted. ‘Yep,’ the cashier said, ‘won’t be long’. And stared into
the middle distance. Angela started muttering under her breath and rolling her
eyes. I tried to smile gently at the cashier who was starting to get nervous.
Another minute passed and Angela bursts out, spluttering, ‘Oh for fucks sake,
it’s right behind you, just get the fucking bottle of water’, just as the
service person trundled up to study my little receipt and fetch my bottle of
water. Thank you.
But perhaps I’ve missed the point. Perhaps some of those
quirky things are Canberra – a
city/country hybrid with its own unique charm. It’s a lovely, lovely place to
visit. But only if you don’t mind your city on the mild side.
Hahahaha! That's the kind of thing you'd expect to see in a Ricky Gervais sitcom!
ReplyDeleteAlso, I decided to give your blog an award.
Deletehttp://michaeldagostino.blogspot.com.au/2012/06/id-like-to-thank-academy.html
Are you saying i'm like Karl????
ReplyDeleteThanks for the award!! :-)
No, you two are Ricky Gervais and Steve Merchant of course.
Delete