I officially miss Melbourne. No, not for the reasons one might expect like family and friends, although I do miss those. No, I miss Melbourne because oh dear god it is so hot over here. Clearly I chose the wrong time of the year to move to New York since I, a notorious hater of summer and all things sunny, have now had to endure two sweaty seasons in a row. It’s cruel and unusual punishment for a crime I didn’t know I had committed, I swear.
I love a Melbourne winter. The rain and the chill making for ideal weather to stay inside with friends drinking red wine and discussing every topic under the sun (the sun that tucks itself away in the west around 6pm rather than 9pm – stupid daylight savings!) until four in the morning by which time you’ve moved on to the whiskey or whatever mystery liqueur found in the cupboard. It’s an excuse to see 40+ films at a film festival before stopping by a city bar for a delicious mulled wine and critiquing the three hour Bosnian film about turtle dove migration patterns because, hey, it’s better than moping at home and waiting for the rain to stop. It’s also perfect for rugging up at a match of footy while watching strapping and barely-dressed blokes run around providing all the warmth necessary to heat the MCG (also where I worked for two seasons in 2011 and 2012). Like I said, I love a Melbourne winter.
Chillier times in Melbourne, drinking red wine in winter.
I’m jealous of all the Facebook status update and tweets from people back home typically complaining about it being so cold. I would gladly swap the miserable, muggy heat I am currently experiencing for the grey skies of home. At least in Melbourne if you’re walking around wet it’s because you got caught in a downpour and not because you’re literally sweating out the entirety of your body’s water reserves just trying to go to the shops for milk and bread. Ugh, it’s completely disgusting and it baffles me why people actually like summer.
Not that I don’t see its virtues, sure. Rooftop bars can be fun, but they’re also almost always horrendously crowded because some bright spark naturally thought the way to cool down and beat the summer heat was to literally get closer to the sun. I’m not sure they entirely thought out the concept of rooftop bars. I see the virtue in gin and tonic season, although after this last weekend at a friend’s house warming party I think I see the unpleasant after effects of gin and tonic season, too. Likewise sangria. Summer’s also good for seeing sexy people who are clearly not shy about showing off their hard-earned bodies jog around in various stages of undress. I also know that I could never be one of those people conveniently going for a run through the city who needs to take his shirt off. Nobody particularly needs to see that, I can guarantee you, so I am forced to keep these heat-incubating shreds of fabric on me at all times. Stupid public decency.
“Hot town, summer in the city, back of my neck gettin’ burnt and gritty.”
And that’s before I get to the subway stations that alternatively work as travel portals to the planet Mercury they’re that scorching hot, or the way it is virtually impossible to get through summer in this city without having to spend money on air conditioners, new clothes (because you sweat through all the old ones too frequently to keep up), train tickets to whatever beach is within the shortest distance, and takeout dinners because lord knows it’s already a furnace in the apartment without turning the oven on.
Still, at least in New York there are enough museums and cinemas to cool down in without being repetitious. And all the trains here come with aircon, which is a novelty to anybody used to utilising Melbourne’s rickety tram network as a means of transportation. Apparently the dregs of a New York summer don’t even take full effect until August, a month in which people actually start spontaneously bursting into flames. Okay, that’s presumably a lie, but I did overhear one particularly sassy fellow tell his friend on the subway “girl, this ain’t even the real heat yet.” Sigh. Maybe if I daydream about that Melbourne winter it’ll help keep me cool.