I'm sure you'd agree all the tips in the world will never make a newbie see the city quite like those who spent their childhood in it. Here are some things you'd only know or understand if you grew up in Canberra:

The concrete tunnels at the old Belconnen interchange. The old Belconnen red bridge next to the mall when troublemakers were around. Glebe Park at night. Enough said.

Eighteenth birthdays at Mooseheads, anyone? Maybe you remember the old Moose before the fire, or hanging out at the elegantly-named Private Bin. If you're a Gen Y, you may remember (or have forgotten since the morning after) some wild nights out at Meche, ICBM or North Bar.

Also, perching at the "G Spot" food truck in Gungahlin for a midnight munch on a deep-fried Mars bar. Enjoying frozen custard at Goodberry's Creamery in Wanniassa and Belconnen, and getting confused about the Goodberry's-JIGSAW-Goodberry's name change. Italian at Zeffirelli's.

Many of us who reached the memorable milestone of gaining our licence in the ACT would remember the smug feeling of cruising past a P-plater with NSW number plates at the same speed of everyone else while they were stuck driving 90km an hour. And yet we had to clock up less than half as many hours of driving as them to get our Ps.

The giant syringe on the horizon signalling 'I'm almost home sweet home' at the end of a family roadtrip is a classic Canberra childhood sight. The symbolic landmark of Telstra Tower was originally called Telecom Tower, but it never really mattered what it was called because everyone called it Black Mountain Tower.

We Canberrans clearly aren't too fussed about official recognition. Just like "Black Mountain Tower", "Civic" has never been the legit name for the city, despite new citizens quickly learning it's the common term. Walter Burley Griffin called it the "Civic Centre" in his 1911 ACT plans, but then prime minister Stanley Bruce didn't like the name and settled with City. "Civic" stuck. Some Canberrans could remember when the Canberra Centre was called the Monaro Mall.

You also remember when Braddon was far from Canberra's hipster central, only housing car yards, mechanics and light stores. And when the many restaurants and bars on the Kingston foreshore was an industrial area. Maybe it's Fyshwick's turn for a similar revamp?

Forget what you heard about everyone in Canberra knowing everyone. Everyone knows everyone on their side of Lake Burley Griffin, at least it was that way growing up. People that move here may joke over coffee with colleagues about the myth of the southside versus northside rivalry, but we know otherwise. We would join forces only against Queanbeyan residents, who seemed like foreigners despite living only 15km away. The trustful (cough cough) Wikipedia recorded bloodshed in the "War of Indiependence," in which hipsters, public servants and a lone window-washer fight valiantly.

Westfield Woden = Westfields.Tuggeranong Hyperdome = the Hyperdome (some may remember when this sounded all futuristic). Belconnen Westfields = the mall (interstate friends have told me the latter is chiefly an American term and it's strange that we use it). You can pronounce "Manuka" and "Bonython" correctly and you know that Conder is not named after the bird.

Well, I didn't, but my boss John-Paul Moloney did before it was mainly used for rowing, fishing and sailing. His feedback: "I didn't grow a third eye from it but I'm not going anywhere near jumping back in there now". But don't be too put off about all you've heard about algae and pollution in recent years. The NCA releases weekly water quality reports on Lake Burley Griffin, and it's (usually) safe to swim in.

Those who can bare a dip in the Kambah pools, Canberra's only nude bathing area, should take note of the number one rule: keep left if you're wearing swimmers and right if you're not.

Most of us have been the victim of some good old Canberra bashing at some point. Once when I told someone in one of Australia's bigger cities where I was from, they looked at me like I grew up on a secluded island. I had to explain that my childhood was not deprived of fun and laughter.

I was driving along William Hovell Drive in Canberra's north the other week with a friend from Sydney and as we passed the farmland of Wintergarden Estate, she wondered out loud if we were still in Canberra. Our "bush capital" status might be slipping away slowly as the ACT government continues to buy rural land - including that very property - but we were lucky to grow up in a city that lacks the traffic congestion and big-city hustle of our larger counterparts, while boasting beautiful nature reserves and waterholes right on our doorstep.

Canberra might shine in some minor ways, like having the nation's biggest pay packets and its most highly educated population, but what really matters is that it has the most tasteless water (note: this has not been scientifically proven). '"Tasteless" is not the standard adjective used to compliment a drink, but I have tasted water that is slightly more salty, metallic or musty in many other Australian cities, and Canberra takes the cake. This could of course just be my experience because it is what I'm used to. Or it could be fact.

The glorious weekends of suburban firework displays sizzled out seven years ago but I can remember many going off with a bang. Though as former industrial relations minister John Hargreaves put it, it wasn't glorious for some who had their property damaged or animals injured with the explosions, which he stated as reasons for the ban in 2009.

There are the locals and the non-native public servants. There are of course downsides to growing up about 600 metres above sea level and 150 kilometres from the coast, but you become much more resilient to cold climates, including your own. You also know the feeling of packing rather lightly when travelling interstate in winter, the fact that despite the city's notoriously harsh winters it also gets bloody hot, and the golden rules to keep your heater off until Anzac Day and avoid planting tomatoes until Melbourne Cup Day.

Which included: getting excited when the Canberra Show came around even if it had half as many rides as shows at other cities; making mischievous teenage memories at Skyfire; camping at the Cotter; and wandering the streets of Civic on New Year's Eve when you were too young to enter nightclubs. Occasionally you would sneak an early taste of adulthood at "underage Academy," but that's one memory I would rather forget.

You grew up believing escalators were rest shops for shoppers and you could take up all the room you pleased. On your first trip to Sydney, you realised that belief would get you nothing but angry and impatient stares.

You always read the words to yourself in this order, no matter how many times you drive past the signs on the road. And you don't think it's excessive to have one roundabout for every 1000 people.