Australia's Eastern cities – a run down from a local

Tots100 organised an International Blog Swap day with bloggers in Australia. I was paired with CJ who lives in Tasmania and writes at The Black Stamp.

CJ has written a fun run down of Australian cities for you to enjoy. Be sure to comment if you have visited any of them, or plan to do so in the future.

Australia's Eastern cities – a run down from a local
I was born in the Sydney basin, known internationally for a bridge that looks like a coat hanger, an opera house that looks like a cockatoo's head, and a big gay Mardi gras which rocks the cities socks once a year. Sydney is much more than these things though...
First, a word about weather. In Sydney the weather subscribes to the philosophy 'go big, or go home.' One week the temperature will sky rocket into the 40s, leading inevitably to something catching on fire. It's a reality of our lives in Australia, and no where more than NSW. Aussie's have a tendency to name these events in ways that really don't tell tourists anything (Black Saturday. Ash Wednesday. The January fires) and then talk about them as though there was only ever the one fire on a Saturday. We all know what we mean... sorry about that.
Once that hot week is over though, you can have a storm harsh enough to destroy property. Hail stones the size of cricket balls, and winds that put cars in trees. Weirdly though, Australian's see natural disasters more as team building exercises than the wrath of God, it's just the way things are here. On the free way, trapped by fire, cricket sets are pulled from car boots and deck chairs set up on the median strip. The State Emergency services goes up and down with cans of coke and bottles of water, and the great North-bound vs South-bound match provides entertainment for all.
The key to survival in NSW? Just roll with it. Nothing is going to go according to plan, but we kinda like it that way.
Ah, the city that thinks it's the cultural hub of the nation. Who knows, maybe it is? The one thing you can say about 'Melbin' (trust me on the pronunciation, everyone will be really impressed) is that it's a street fashion bloggers paradise! I once sat at the Flinders st train station in the middle of the city for half a day just watching the parade.
Punks, Goths, yellow cotton dresses paired with black Doc Martins, and women who looked like they were on their way to the Oscars at lunch time. The rule is there aint no rules, and aggressive individuality is encouraged. I love that about Melbourne.
Melbourne seems to love it too, because they've provided the perfect way to people watch all day and never get bored. There is a city circle tram route, it's completely free so you can ride all day, and the circuit gives a great over view of the city. Get on in the morning (so you're sure you get a seat) and then ride that baby in circles until your camera is full.
The little city that couldn't quite. Bless her. Don't feel bad if you don't know where it is, most Australian's neither know, nor care. Adelaide is really more of an over-sized town than a capitol city, but the beaches and beautiful and everyone seems to be obsessed with cyder! It might have something to do with the large German population around there. South Australia is full of little towns called 'Handorf' and the like.
The city I now call home. For a long time, Tasmania was the butt of national jokes. We've all got two heads, and the family tree is more like a family bush etc, but all that is beginning to change, and Hobart is starting to pull a bit of national and international interest.
MONA opened a couple of years ago, the Museum of Old and New Art... from my perspective it's a little hit and miss but you can't deny it's impressive. We have a massive casino called Wrest Point which the locals routinely refer to as 'the erection'... It has a rather notable effect on the skyline. Most of all though, there's the mountain.
It rears up over the city like something out of middle earth, it dominates the skyline and dwarfs everything. When I arrive here 10 years ago on a dilapidated bus from the frighteningly 'rustic' airport, Mt Welington was covered in snow and it watched over the cluster of buildings at its base like a mother hen. I have quite sentimental feelings about that mountain, and I know many visitors feel the same way. If you come to town, you have to take the trip to the top, feel the bite of the wind which threatens to pick you up and throw you further inland... She wont though. She's just testing you. If you can hold your ground until nightfall, the city below will wink to life one light at a time until there is a sea of stars stretched out below you.
Hobart is the best city... but then again, maybe I'm biased.