MELBOURNE. As much as I love the city I’ve grown up in, circumstances around this time led to my wish to escape and take flight. So it was on a particularly long night that seamlessly met with day, I began my V/Line venture at Southern Cross Station.
All this time I never realised the platforms are further divided into two sections. Metro lady was barking furious when I got on the wrong train…thanks for the heads up I guess. Thankfully I did emerge in Geelong an hour later, where a prolonged walk was eventually usurped by the song of brunch.
33 Little Ryrie St, Geelong
Located on the flip side of the main road, next to a parking lot, it was difficult to pretend I had arrived in a town more jarringly incongruent from where I had just left. Tall window panes allow for filtration of ample sunlight, illuminating the minimalistic furniture. Pot plants and exposed brick walls suggest a more homely side to this smart cafe.
The counter partitions the room with a display of pastries, coffee paraphenalia and other sweets and sandwiches; non-segregation of the kitchen allows the aromas of brunch to freely waft about and tease your senses.
Brooding in one of those ‘I don’t know what I’m craving’ moods, I eventually settled on Quinoa Porridge, a true winter winner with warm pears, roasted almonds and fragrant honey.
Beans by Dukes Coffee; goofy grin encouraged by smarties.
Dessert was a moist carrot cake, while easy on the spices, the whipped cream cheese frosting was gloriously smooth.
A Spot For Joe was a great pit stop in the comparatively quiet town, echoing the city I was so comfortably familiar with.
At the time this picture amused me since I had just watched Kill Your Darlings which, for the most part, I enjoyed. Of course Lucien’s manipulative, apparent guiltlessness coupled with fear and confusion interested me most. I still got away with an interest in the Beat Generation, something I’ve filed away in the mental list of reading material.
Eastern Beach is the main attraction at Geelong isn’t it? I’m not sure about the story behind the lifeguard statues, they’re not even facing the right way. Or maybe they are, and theoretically they’ll perceive any potential dangers to befall on the swimmers before they occur.
320 Pakington Street, Newtown
It’s a very casual, relaxed fit out. The tables are far enough apart to impose a ‘bare’ feeling, with the impersonal colour palette ultimately spotlighting the two things that matter most: the people you’re with, and the burger you’re having.
Having just missed my train, I had an hour to cull, spent making a round trip to Burger Inc. Long story short I went on a shopping spree involving heavy and inconvenient kitchen stuffs and this walk became absolute hell.
Number Seven - Beef Burger w/ bacon x beetroot x pineapple x cheddar x salad x aioli
At least the crunchy chips were a comfort. They bring to mind a friend who once told me she resented chips that tasted like potatoes: she would’ve passed on these too.
As for the burger, the pattie was quite dry. I’ve grown accustomed to softer, fluffier buns. If you do eat here, I hope you drove.
The round trip included takeaway from James St Bakery. This was the artwork in one of the nearby alleyways, I think the expression is rather marvellous.
Rhubarb and frangipane tart.
Assorted macarons. Salted caramel was a let down; good chewy texture otherwise.
One of my last sights of Geelong. I think silent laughter suffices. Frankly I didn’t feel anymore content after the trip because I couldn’t shy away from the ‘baseline’ perspective. A follow up trip for the Geelong Extravaganza proved more fruitful; write up to come in a definite, just distant, future.
I promise I’ll treat you to some burgers in between.