I’m not a very good tourist, tending to avoid the popular places and having a limited capacity for museums. What I like to do is walk and observe, taking in my new surrounds, pondering the many questions that arise and getting a feel for the place. The added benefit is that I lose weight because
Bonjour Friends! It’s been ten days since I left Victoria’s chilly climes and landed in France, so I’m due to pen a postcard. I’m nibbling on a little baguette and cheese (Reblochon fermier) and sitting at the table in a studio apartment in Lorient. It’s in the south of Brittany out on the west coast
I love the overlapping lines of this angled row of terrace houses in Parkville. If you look closely, you will see the many decorative heads in the masonry. They all seem to be looking out longingly at the park opposite, wishing they could go for a stroll amongst the greenery.
If you’re in Queenscliff on a nice day, I highly recommend wandering into the Vue Grand Hotel, grabbing a drink from the bar, then taking three flights of stairs up to the roof top. There you are treated to a 360 degree view of the town and the surrounding waters. If you’re lucky
I will never tire of walking the back beach at Queenscliff. This evening it was low tide and the beach was wide and flat. The birds were busy catching dinner, floating on the salty wind as the sun splashed gold on the water and the lighthouse high on the dune.
Yum! Meredith Goat Cheese and fig ice cream on a beautiful, sunny day in Melbourne’s CBD. I love the way the old buildings of Wesley Place are tucked in underneath the modern giants.
I have no idea what the architect intended, but to my eye this is a piano building. I like to imagine there’s a piano on every floor and a giant multi-piano work is performed every afternoon. Or maybe a resident pianist in the lift playing up and down all day.
I highly recommend a mid-afternoon pain au chocolat and coffee while watching the pastry chefs work their magic. Relaxing, intriguing and delicious all rolled into one.
The perfect handle for the door of a restaurant whose menu includes, ‘Bread, Sexy Butter’.
It feels quintessentially Brunswick to be sitting in a bar on Sydney Road, listening to afternoon ultra-groove and surrounded by 1970s decor. Trams are running past the window with their familiar metallic swoosh, jostling with the peak hour traffic.
