I flew into Sydney from Melbourne on June 14, 2008, two days before I was scheduled to start work at The Australian newspaper. As the plane descended through the clouds, it was wet that night and cold, my mood descended with it. I was one of those Melbournians for whom a move north of the border was tantamount to treason, and to make matters worse the fortnight leading up to my flight had been fraught with emotional turmoil. I was feeling angry at the city, which struck me as shallow, sordid and smug. I looked out at it through the double-thickness perspex with nothing less than blackest contempt.
Matthew Clayfield
Matthew Clayfield is a journalist, critic and screenwriter.
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