Has Sydney lost the plot?

Yes. It. Has.

Sydney’s a bit of alright for a weekend fling or as a place to show off to overseas visitors, but basically Sydney is not a place in which to live an actual life.

Here’s why Sydney ain’t working so well anymore:

It’s too tribal – east, west, north, south are all separate kingdoms and never mix.

It’s too expensive – a meal out is the same as a small Pacific Island’s GDP without the smiles. Also finding a park for said overpriced meal will involve yet another mortgage.

People aren’t that nice here – but in fairness no-one who spends at least two hours a day commuting to their boring job is going to act all that nice.   

Speaking of which …. the city is now an apartment ghetto, with none of the requisite schools, transport, roads, infrastructure. No planning. Zilch. How very Sydney.

It has no arts soul. Unlike Melbourne, it is a follower not a leader in the hipster movement, it slavishly follows overseas trends. It hasn’t had an original idea in its life.

It’s good looking but that’s not enough anymore. No conversation, no soul, no originality, no purpose. As a place to visit, there’s no better. I really believe that but living in Sydney has lost its gloss.

Advertisements

How to get ’em queueing

It’s easy to make money in Sydney. All you need to do is not do anything people actually need and instead buy a struggling old business, do a Mexican streetfood refit and then advertise your new eatery.

There are virtually no post offices, old-school garages and butcheries left in this town, they’ve already been transformed into The Garage, The Butcher’s Block or La Stazione or Il Postino. Bookstores have already turned themselves into cafes, and next will surely be newsagents and banks.

Meanwhile the owners of the themed cafes are laughing all the way to the bank. People are queuing up faster than you can say doppia macchiato to get a slice of contrived action.

As for menu, well, basically sorted. Pepe butter, Sonoma bread, Hanks Jams. There must be macaroons, vine-ripened tomatoes and hay-fed pork sausages from Bangalow. And it must be overpriced.

Then – cue stroke of genius – the business doesn’t take bookings, giving the impression that they are really popular, cool, hip and in demand. And sit back let em queue, let ’em queue and sit back and walk to the bank. Hold on, it’s already a new cafe, La Banque. Heard it’s good.

Swindletown: the great caravan park con

Recently I stayed in a caravan park, but not in an actual caravan, instead in a “luxury cabin”. Back in the day, caravan parks were a cheap thrill. Like Target, RSL’s, Thai restaurants and pub meals.

But back to my cara-rant, this luxury cabin slept four and had two rooms. I know this is a first world problem, but the cabin was not luxury, unless you like a lumpy double bed, bunkbeds and plastic bathrooms the size of a broom cupboard.

Lumpy beds and bunkbeds are ok in a first world problem kind of way, if you are going to be charged accordingly (ie bugger all). But this particular “luxury” cabin cost $110 and then $20 for each extra adult. So the total cost divided by four adults was $150.

I would like to know why we are charged more for four people to stay in a space which is designed for four people?

I would also like to know why I was stupid enough (don’t answer this) to book this in the first place when I could have stayed in a motel down the road for not much more.

I’m thinking the real bargains in life are not to be found in caravan parks.

And that maybe a motel is cheaper. So is staying at home.