When we first arrived in Melbourne, it was springtime. It was late enough at night and Tullamarine airport was half asleep. Bearing the slogan of “World’s most livable city” (former), we expected the aromas of dandelions and lavender to fill the air.
As we hurried along the M2 to our Airbnb in Brunswick, Melbourne’s skyline was nowhere in sight. Everything seemed dubious. Upon arriving, we made haste to the nearest food joint. Soon to realise that winter has not loosen its grip and our spring jackets felt inadequate, just like us.
"Spring is the time of the year when it is summer in the sun and winter in the shade." - Charles Dickens
We settled for a greasy Kebab along Sydney Road and Brunswick looked like a baleful tattooed neighourhood. A one month Airbnb seemed foolish. Akin to Singapore no longer being as optimistic as she once was. Most folks see a stint in Australia as a gateway drug to mutiny and migration, and we were teased and taunted. Yet sooner or later, everyone has to see if the grass on the other side is truly greener.
"The old Brunswick Street was dead, Brunchwick Street born. There was no turning back.” - Peter Temple, White Dog