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SUMMER BELONGS TO APARTMENT PEOPLE
A gentle gloat, from the cool side of a Brisbane December
Brisbane summer is coming. You can feel it. The air has that thick, sticky promise to it, the storms are starting to build of an afternoon, and somewhere out in the suburbs a bloke is already standing in his yard at 7am wondering how the grass grew that much in a week.
That man is not us. This is a love letter to everyone who, like us, decided to live above all that.
Here is the case for apartment living in a Brisbane summer, made with zero shame.
You do not mow. You will never mow. While half the city wrestles a whipper snipper in 35 degrees on a Saturday morning, you are taking the lift to a pool you did not have to dig, clean or chlorinate. Somebody else does all of that. You just float in it.
The heat is someone else’s problem too. A house swallows air-conditioning whole. You cool a couple of rooms and you are done, and half the time, up high with the windows open, the river breeze does the job for free. Teneriffe and New Farm catch that air beautifully. One of the great unadvertised perks of the postcode.
Then there are the storms. Brisbane does a proper summer storm, purple sky and horizontal rain and a light show that embarrasses the city skyline. From a balcony up high, cold drink in hand, nothing in a yard to fret about, it is the best free entertainment going. The people below are out rescuing the trampoline. You are watching.
Summer is the season of leaving, and nobody leaves as easily as apartment people. Long weekend at Straddie. A week in Noosa. A last-minute Byron run. You lock one door and go. No garden quietly dying, no lawn announcing to the street that the house is empty, no housesitter to beg. No asking the neighbours to put your bins out. Lock up, leave, come home to exactly what you left.
And the whole thing happens on foot. Dinner on James Street, shopping at Gasworks, a long lazy afternoon at Howard Smith Wharves, and the walk home is part of the night. The river is right there. The 50c ferry is a small joy all on its own. You can live an entire glorious Brisbane summer without once getting in a car, which your future self will thank you for.
None of this is to say houses are bad. People love them, fair enough. But when the mercury climbs and the whole city settles into one long slow exhale, apartment living quietly shows itself as the smartest way to do a Brisbane summer. Less to look after, more to enjoy, and a pool you never have to think about until the second you want to be in it.
So to everyone already living the high life in the inner city, enjoy your summer. You have earned the smugness.
And to anyone eyeing it off from behind a lawnmower, dreaming of a December that means mangoes and rooftop pools instead of gutters and grass, we should talk. Preferably somewhere with air-con.
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