Melburnians are friendlier than Sydneysiders – except when they drive

23 hours ago 2

After moving to Melbourne from Sydney 10 years ago, I can confirm that Melburnians are absolutely friendlier and more polite on average – except when driving. Then, all of a sudden, they turn into rage-filled maniacs with the impulse control of a toddler.

I was warned about this by a friend who’d made the move before me – and I didn’t believe him. After all, driving in Sydney is hardly relaxing. But my friend, who much preferred Melbourne in every other way, was right.

Melbourne drivers are not to be trigled with.

Decades of driving did not prepare me for the utter mayhem of Melbourne motoring and soon, as he predicted, I found myself screaming in terror and frustration as people tailgated, screamed and aimed their cars at mine.

Driving here is like playing Grand Theft Auto, only instead of muscle-bound thugs wanting to kill you, it’s … well, everyone and everything, from mums speeding away from their children’s school as if they can’t get away fast enough, to massive potholes that threaten to cripple your car.

Rules? What rules? When I was a young driver – back in Sydney – I was obsessed with them. Down here, it often feels like the only rule is to not hit another car. Or at least, to try not to.

Only in Melbourne is it entirely legal to make U-turns at intersections and across multi-lane highways. Why, I do not know, but it is.

Then again, here you can move your car into any space you choose, regardless of rhyme or reason. During my second month in Melbourne, I was shocked when I saw a car driving perpendicular to traffic in the middle of peak hour, parting it like Moses with the Red Sea across multiple lanes.

It felt surreal, but now? I expect it. If you’re not bumper to bumper with the car in front of you, somehow another car will sidle in, at speed, without even acknowledging your presence. And no courtesy wave, either. Car karma be damned: here, it’s every driver for themselves.

That’s why merging in Melbourne is murder – as soon as you indicate, the car beside you will almost always speed up to block you.

Intersections ought to be a reprieve: a place where rules still apply. But no: here, they’re a reckoning with mortality. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I’m certain there are fewer right-hand turn lights at major intersections in Melbourne – and even when there is one, they only operate on randomly. At my local intersection (where I’ve yet to see the right-hand turn light ever go green), turning from the middle requires a leap of faith, as cars on the other side always speed through the orange light – and often the red.

Speed limits are a suggestion. If I drive at the limit, I get honked and sworn at, as if I’m going dangerously slow. In Sydney, people flash their lights to warn you about cops or that your car is on fire. In Melbourne, it means you’re not speeding over the limit.

But it’s the tailgating, of course, that’s truly dangerous. Never mind that they can simply overtake you half the time. Never mind just how insanely dangerous tailgating is. They will sit so close behind you that you can see the whites of their crazed, dilated eyes as they scream, give you the finger and, yes, flash their lights.

Trams, by the way, are wonderful when you’re riding them – but not driving behind them. Most drivers overtake them when behind one, even when they can’t see what parked cars are up ahead in the left-hand lane. Colour me crazy, but I don’t like playing Russian roulette in the hope of getting home five minutes earlier.

Instead, I remain behind the tram, white-knuckling the wheel, while a barrage of cars honk furiously and swerve around me. I know I must be, by Melbourne standards, somehow in the wrong for not wanting to drive kamikaze-style into the left-hand lane, but I just can’t acclimatise to that degree.

Hook turns, of course, are notorious – largely because no-one seems to know how they work. Other than the people who love to self-righteously explain how easy they are to use, that is.

Myths abound about how you’re meant to turn right from the left-hand lane – but the only person I know who’s actually attempted one told me they found themselves having a panic attack as they got stuck while turning, cars honking from all directions, as a tram almost T-boned their car. Which might explain why I’ve never driven through the CBD in the decade I’ve been here.

Don’t get me wrong: I love Melbourne. I love its bustling CBD, its many suburban bookshops, and that it doesn’t feel completely like a theme park – at least, not just yet.

And in all fairness, I’ve heard many Melburnians complain about Sydney drivers (perhaps the roads are always more dangerous on the other side of the state line). Either way, I say bring on the self-driving cars. I’m not one of those people who blindly trusts technology: but I trust my fellow Melburnians even less.

Dan Kaufman teaches writing, editing and media training at Media Survival.

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