Many years ago, I had the good fortune of living for seven months in Sydney’s Manly Beach, which is what you’d expect a Sydney bayside suburb to be: Lovely beach, awesome waves, beautiful people, lots of fun. In fact, Manly ‑ so named by the founder of Sydney, Captain Arthur Phillip, after his encounter with the confident, “manly” Aborigines he found there ‑ is probably the very best that Sydney has to offer.
And yet, I still must fly the flag for Melbourne (above), which is too often shortchanged when the lion’s share of the headlines go to its rival half a day’s drive north. Simply put, Melbourne is a city with its priorities in order: where a horse race is reason enough to give everybody the day off work, where substance matters as much as style and where the good things in life are there for the taking.
When I step out of my office building on the Yarra River, this is the view. Superb, no?