It's easy to hate Sydney this time of year, all sweaty humidity and traffic. A city that only flows freely when schools are on holidays now over, a city in which authorities think most thoroughfare clearways are only appropriate for weekdays. Pity those of us who must drive on the weekend.

I've been assessing the worst thing about Sydney given how difficult it is to move away, which I'm doing this week. Thinking of its insufferable attributes makes it easier to justify a decision to live elsewhere for a while. The antidote to departure angst is creating a leaderboard of Sydney awfulness, whittling the candidates down to the city's single worst thing.

Sydney's worst thing is not the heat, even though on Saturday at 7.30am the apparent temperature was already 28 degrees and the humidity 87 per cent. That's after the city recorded its hottest January. Tourists might like the weather this time of year, but I am not alone in finding it unbearable.

It is not the traffic, as infuriating as it is, and as it will stay, despite the new trams and metro lines, even if each is started and finished. In this state, don't bank on anything until it is open and running, and not even then (hat-tip, the monorail).