last days in melbourne.

Melbournians seem to have an unpublished, secret list of underground, seclusive hot spots in the city. As much as I wondered the city on my days off, as mush as I would get off the tram early to walk home instead of transferring, or as much as I would read about places in the local magazines, there are still multitudes of places I would have never noticed, hidden behind undisclosed doors, up flights of stairs, down dark alley ways. It seems as though the less acknowledgement that something exists behind a closed door, the cooler it is. There are roof tops you can see from the street, people filing out onto decks laughing and drinks in hand, but try as you may, there isn't a sign or a door leading or inviting you to join. After my last shift of work in Melbourne, I met up with my super flattie to celebrate. She, having lived here for the last two years and knowing all the cool spots, took me to such an alley way I would have never stumbled upon. As you enter, it looks as though you are entering a house, an open door to someone's home. As we walked up the creaky wooden stair case, we wandered into a bright emerald green painted room displaying a few photographs part of an Icelandic art exhibition. Two ladies in the small adjacent room were sipping sparkly out of flutes and quietly nodded a cordial hello. We meandered back downstairs to another open door that led into what looked like used to be a living room with a cozy fireplace. Above it was a chalkboard displaying the handwritten menu, the room filled with high-seated tables, and an alcove window looking into the kitchen.

A backdoor opened unto a little alley, lined along one side of the brick wall with wire tables adorned with glass vases , leading to a single toilet around the corner. It's these types of places that are so unassuming, yet have so much character that attract people out with the sunshine, and protects them from the perpetual rain.












Wine and cheese were to be had, naturally, as we basked in the late winter warmth of the afternoon and the sun slit through the shaft between the brick buildings promising a warm evening and warmer days to come.

 a little boy, with a cheeky smile took this photo for us on steph's iphone. 

The following day, my last day in Melbourne, was toasted with a lunch at Golden Fields, where I had been working but only able to drool over the food as I served it (almost, but not quite literally) but not experience it myself. Stephanie, having eaten there before and me, having seen the food so many times knew exactly what we wanted to order. It was a multiple-hour-long feast, to say the least, that started with complimentary glasses of champagne and ended after copious dishes and a decanter of white wine with not-so-complimentary cocktails. It was a fine way to spend the last day in Melbourne and ended with two more rooftop bars saying goodbye and toasting with the friends I had made there.