HAS SYDNEY LOST ITS SOUL?

By Rupert Truscott-Hughes on January 19, 2017 in Other

I think I’m ready to leave. After spending my whole life on the shores of Sydney Harbour, I think it’s time to go. I’m not sure if I need a sea-change, a tree-change or something in between, but my life definitely needs an upheaval.

I don’t think I’m alone in feeling this way, either. I know house prices are driving a lot of younger folk, especially those with families, to far away places, but I don’t believe that is the only reason for the exodus. I actually think Sydney has lost its soul.

It would be easy to blame ‘Casino Mike’ Baird for this whole mess, and he is certainly not without some responsibility, but I think this is something that has been accumulating for a time far longer than his tenure. It’s not just the lack of nightlife beyond midnight or the heinous removal of century-old fig trees without a thought for their heritage value that is destroying Sydney’s soul, it’s actually the people.

I’ve always been fairly self-absorbed, but this has been balanced out by the good people around me who kick me in to line. Unfortunately that status quo no longer exists. The good people are diminishing in numbers and the wankers are multiplying. Sydney has become so competitive that we have all turned in to a bunch of self-interested c#@ts, for lack of a better adjective. The thinking being, I believe, that it’s the only way to get ahead.

We compete for property, tables at restaurants, car spaces, a patch of sand at the beach, and the opposite sex. It’s survival of not only the fittest and fattest, but also the richest and most cunning. I’m not sure how Darwin would feel about it, to be honest.

To some extent I blame the Internet. It’s just a massive hype beast. There are no secrets anymore. Places that I used to hold close to my heart for their peace and tranquillity in amongst out bustling city are now being overrun by people because Broadsheet or Concrete Playground or Timeout featured an article about them and it went viral on social media, whatever that means. I’m having to book tables or, god forbid, line up at the cafes and restaurants I love, and places like Gordons Bay and some of the hidden harbour beaches where I could once unveil my pasty, wobbly torso without fear of being seen or mocked are now bastions of insecurity. The pool at my place has never got so much use.
Of course the question then arises of where I should move to.

It’s far too much of a cliché to move up to Byron Bay or its hinterland, and from what I hear the soul is quickly being sapped from that joint too. Noosa, on the other hand, lost its soul many moons ago.

Maybe I’ll head down south. Kiama still seems quite quaint. It’s closer enough to Sydney that I can come back if I feel a little homesick, a stone’s throw from the Southern Highlands if I want to pop up to the polo, and only an hour from the white sands of Hyams Beach. I’m sure I can get my hands on a harbourfront spread down there for under $2 million too!