What Melbourne did to me…

Posted by on Dec 3, 2019 in Featured Posts, Travel Tales | 1 comment

What Melbourne did to me…

They say first impressions are always the ones that stay for life. And, its true- as much it is for people as it is for places you visit. But, then things turn around too. And shake up your mettle. Good to bad, or bad to good. For me, Melbourne was a bit like that. It mixed me up. Stirred me. Mostly like a good martini. But shaken, at times too.

Past midnight, I walk into the little apartment, right in the centre of town. An apartment on the 42nd floor… where at night, the window transformed into a twinkling array of fairy-light dotted skyscrapers and for the new nights to come it would make for the perfect backdrop for a glass of red wine and a cheese platter. Or some Joan Baez. Or Norah Jones.

The city has glamour, all right. And, it is pleasing by day. But it is the twilight that starts turning the city gorgeous. Melbourne really lights up after hours. In a seductive, no-commitment way, if you know what I mean? She is breathtaking under lights!  With many “men looking for a little romance, given half a chance” 🙂 The streets, the bars, the views, the vibes, the pulse… totally intoxicating.

But Melbourne can flirt back. Really hard, like a sexy woman would! Stiletto shoes, a great smile, chiseled abs, and a tan. Confident, ambitious, classy, intelligent and honest.


Like the Victorian GPO, that sells flowers inside.

Like the burger place called Easey that hosts converted train compartments, sitting on a rooftop- with graffiti on walls that change every week.

Like Rutledge Lane. Nested behind Hosier Lane. It’s actually quite amazing how many people visit Hosier and miss Rutledge Lane..

Like the toilet in the 35th floor of the Sofitel hotel bar on Collins street. The view to the east side of Melbourne is just amazing.

Here’s to sexy Melbourne, pink faces and facades in pop lights, blurred memories, ‘bindas’ camaraderie and chronicles of an evening that effortlessly turned into wee hours of the morning, swivelling a Saturday into Sunday just like that!


Like Brighton Beach. Beach-huts as bright as candies. Skies that look intoxicated and moody. And a sunset that’s hard to resist.

Like the Docklands. Purple, playful and hip.


Like Flinders Street station.

Like Federation square.

Melbourne felt mixed up to me… the “coolness” of Cape Town,  the city skyline enigmatic a bit like NYC, parts of London, as well as an overriding European atmosphere with hidden alleys in cobblestones and eclectic little cafes.

Melbourne is renowned for its cafes, and after you sip a flat white at one of them you’ll never want to go to Starbucks again. There’s just something about the strong lattes artfully created by career baristas, who take pride in knowing your order after the first time you walk in. Coffee is a rite of passage, here.

While Brighton Beach itself isn’t exactly postcard-worthy, it’s well worth a visit for one reason: the bathing houses. Taking a cue from the Caribbean, the uniquely decorated cabanas that line the length of the beach are absolutely charming, and you’ll find yourself torn trying to pick a favourite. And when you have seagulls who hover right above your head, circling in a tango against the tangerine sunset- you really can’t ask for more.

Every Melbournian has a place they go to feel inspired. Somewhere that makes them feel like they can write a novel, solve world peace or finish an entire Oreo Freakshake by themselves.

I couldn’t stay enough to be a localite, but even with that limited staying I spotted my moment when I saw the moon dip and the sun rise both together from the bay window from the 42nd floor apartment.

One Comment

  1. Very well articulated.