I fear we Melburnians are about to suffer a Beyonce-style backlash. Winning the "most liveable city" accolade three times in a row may start to feel a little like showing off. We could soon be booed off the stage for just being a little bit too cool for school, a little smug in our bushranger beards and head-to-toe black, drinking our single-origin dry flat-whites on our pristine, plane-tree lined pavements.

Well people, as a relatively recent addition to this undeniably great city, I’m here to tell you, yes, Melbourne is wonderfully liveable. But don’t abandon New York, London or even (gulps) Sydney just yet. Here is why.

Transport. Somehow the fact that we have trams has conned everyone into thinking that we are the pinnacle of public ease when it comes to getting around. If you live within three kilometres of the CBD and only want to travel between 7am and 10pm, then indeed, Melbourne does rock. If, like 90% of the population, your life extends further than the suburbs of Richmond, Fitzroy or St Kilda, then … not so good.

I regularly wait 20 minutes for a train from my still relatively inner city suburb if it’s past 8pm. I could catch the bus I suppose, if I’m there the one time in an hour it leaves for my desired destination. Or there’s always cabs – no, wait. I can’t catch them any more because of the number of times I’ve complained when they’ve failed to show, not known where they were going, or (and this has happened more than once) slowed to a crawl when hailed, then raced off. Given this hideous transport situation, it’s easier to meet my friend who lives on the other side of town for a weekend away than go to her place for a drink. I am not even joking.

Then there’s the coffee. “What?" I hear you cry, “Melbourne's coffee is amazing!” Well, yes it is. It’s the whole wankery around it that pisses me off. I was in a café the other day and the four people in front of me ordered a type I have literally never heard of. I like to think I know my doppio macchiato from my ristretto, but this creation was clearly known only to deputies of the Melbourne Hip Coffee Club (members: not me). I was so embarrassed by my pedestrian order of a soy flat white that I slunk off with just a gluten-free chia-seed cookie, head hung in shame.

An espresso which may or may not have been made by the Melbourne Hip Coffee Club. Photograph: Kai Godehusen/Getty

I may be outing myself for the unsophisticated coffee drinker I clearly am, but I can’t tell my single origin from double or triple, and I still think being a barista should be a job for uni students, not an end-of-career high point.

I don’t have time to go into the annoyance of having football (by that I mean AFL, duh – there’s no other type of football) consistently higher in the news agenda than civil war in far-off places. Or the unbearable screech of the Formula One. Or the fact that Melbourne makes you bleed money through your eyeballs every time you want to do something outside the house.

The Economist Intelligence Unit’s criteria for its most liveable city award include stability, healthcare, culture and environment, education and infrastructure, and on most of these markers, I really can’t fault the city. Melbourne is undoubtedly deserving of its thrice-bestowed moniker, and I do indeed feel very fortunate to live in a city where I can run on the beach, see world class art and theatre, eat at unbelievable restaurants and immerse myself in a brilliantly grungy music scene all in one day.

But hold your heads high, Rio de Janeiro, Paris and Tokyo. You may not be that liveable, but there’s a lot more to life than that.