Suburbs - what's in a name?

This morning I caught the Emu Plains service to work, and it struck me that this suburb name might appear very exotic to tourists. I imagined them heading out there with expensive cameras, ready to take panoramic shots of large flightless birds, and their disillusionment when they actually arrived. "All we found was McDonald's and KFC."

It got me thinking about suburb names and what they sound like to people who are new in a city. I grew up in Kyle Bay, and it's impossible for me to separate the name from all the associations and memories I have of it. But what connotations does it have for an outsider? 'Bay' is promising I suppose - secluded, maybe even exclusive, with water views. But who is Kyle? He sounds like an American singer from the early '80s who wears a headband. Rose Bay - well that's easy to picture - but Kyle Bay? The jury is out.

One of my favourite suburb names in Sydney is Greystanes. You can just see the real-estate agents having conniptions. "Can't we classify this one as North Woodpark?" Actually, I've never been there. It's probably very nice. And there probably are big flightless birds at Emu Plains, for all I know.

I also remember some of the barrios from Bogota. They had an edge to them that Sydney suburbs lack. We used to live in La Macarena, which reminds most people of that funny dance that was popular for a while. Next to us was La Perseverancia (Perseverance), an extremely poor and dangerous neighbourhood wedged between upper-middle-class areas that seemed to scramble up the mountain. Another favourite of mine was Matatigres (Kill tigers). I went out there once expecting a safari and ... never mind.

But as I tried to think of more suburbs, I noticed something else - they're disappearing from my memory. I can't recall where Palermo is anymore, or the name of that rich barrio up north. How many burners did the stove in our apartment have? What was our phone number? These are the details that go I suppose.