crossing over

When I first moved to Sydney, I had a choice of a sharing a house with three other girls in Maroubra or a flat with one other girl in North Balgowlah.  The view was stunning in Maroubra, but everything else was right about North Balgowlah.  Little did I know then just what a significant decision I had made:  north of the bridge.

I'd read that Sydney and Melbourne have a huge rivalry, and, while it surfaces occasionally, it's either a way bigger deal in Melbourne (these things always are in the place that has more to prove) or the tour books just hyped it way up.

Really they should have been focusing on the Sydney north-south divide.

It's hard to come up with a city that has a more overt natural division than the Sydney Harbour.  It's absolutely gorgeous, which is probably the one thing both sides can agree on.  Though the North certainly gets the better half of it.

I live in the Lower North Shore, which conjures up all sorts of yuppie stereotypes for those in the know.  Before, when I was on the Northern Beaches, you'd be thinking more wealthy families.  In either event, you're in a good, safe part of the city, with all the amenities you could want and smattering of decent cafes.  It's a bit quieter than south of the harbour, which has areas of all sorts as well, but is generally a bit more polluted by the bustle of the city.  Crossing the bridge is crossing out of the CBD (the Central Business District) and into a calmer land.  It's amazing.

I could live quite comfortably never crossing into the city except for fun nights out or special occasions, if only for the minor detail that I happen to work there.  Most people do, seeing as it is where the main part of the city is.

Take this weekend for example.  I spent the entire time north of the bridge, and actually would have felt quite ruffled had I crossed over.  It's the psychology of it -- leaving the safety net of home and heading out into the big, wide world.  It's all well and good for work and fun, but when you want a relaxing weekend, it's much easier to stay nestled safely in the Lower North Shore.

Good heavens, I've become a snob.

I have a friend who lived south of the harbour who used to refer to crossing over as going into the nosebleed section.  You see, it cuts both ways.  Us Northerners might like to preen at home on the weekends, but the Southerners quite literally can hardly make the trip.  While we are used to trekking on a daily basis for work, they must have a particularly phenomenal reason to even contemplate coming up over.

Thus when planning an event such as a birthday party, it is imperative to consider where one's guests are coming from:  you can generally figure a genuine friend who lives south of the harbour can be reasonably expected to come to see you on your turf once a year.  Anything more and you just might have yourself a fiancee.

Conversely, a group of Northern friends are reasonably likely to drag themselves into the city for a special occasion even up to once a month.  They won't budge for just anything, but if they have an enticing enough option, they're likely to be game if you are.

Furthermore, I can also sometimes handle tip-of-the-southern-side-tag.  That is, if I'm just going somewhere right off the first or second bus stop over or Circular Quay or the Rocks, I can generally handle it, as long as I don't have to go further south than Wynyard.  It's still over the bridge, but it's still only a ten-minute bus ride so it's doable, if not ideal.

The other option is a car.  Everything is easier in cars.  Give me a friend with a car, and I'll gladly travel the city.  Give me public transportation, and I'll stay at home today, thank you very much.  Or at least I'll stay in the north.

At least I'm not as bad as I could be.  A friend told me the other day of a conversation with other northern friends who railed on and on about the horrors of traveling over the bridge and how they just couldn't be bothered because it took them so far from everything they knew and loved.  She agreed wholeheartedly -- until realizing they were talking not about the Harbour Bridge, but the Spit Bridge.

The Spit Bridge is the dividing line between the Lower North Shore and the Northern Beaches.  It is a significant landmark that opens and closes several times a day to let boats pass, and in so doing significantly delays all the cars and buses that are trying to pass on top.  The Spit, the area it crosses, is stunning, and the Northern Beaches are spectacular, but, despite my time north of the Spit Bridge, I must say I find myself firmly loving the Lower North Shore.

It's just so much more convenient.  There are buses any hour of the day or night, and I rarely have to wait more than ten minutes.  (Though if I do, I know where to head to wait:  the Menzies lobby.  Their restrooms are decent, too.)  Everything I want is close at hand.  My friends are nearby.  The scenery is beautiful.  My street is secluded, but with a view.  What more could I want?

To live in Kirribilli.