Sweet Sorrento Moon
Toby, a barista himself and a coffee enthusiast from way back, had set his alarm for the crack of dawn this morning. He was embarking on his own coffee hunt for Melbourne’s best coffee. Whetting his appetite for the perfect brew, he started at the famous St Ali in South Melbourne, before heading to the real deal - the Mecca for connoisseurs of the liquid gold - Ona, in Brunswick. The coffee shop was started by “The Coffee Man” (who you can look-up on YouTube to see the magic in action) with more than one ‘World’s Best Barista’ title under his belt. Gee, world’s best pizzas last night followed up by the world’s finest barista to make his coffee this morning. The bar is set high.
Now, I know the difference between a really good coffee and an average cup but hadn’t quite appreciated the exact science or level of skill that goes into making the former. Not dissimilar to winemaking, good coffee making is learned and perfected. Ona’s barista, obviously meticulously trained, Mr Miyagi style, by the Coffee Man himself, was thrilled with Toby’s keen interest and saw that he needed more that just a “here’s your coffee mate”. As he worked, he talked Tobes through every intricate process involved. Exactly 15g of filtered coffee, ground finer than usual to extract more flavour, with a ratio of 1:16.6 is used. The water must be exactly 97°C and the 250ml is then carefully poured into two different cups - a tall cup so the full aroma can be appreciated and then a smaller cup for full body flavour. One coffee: two distinct “experiences”. The coffee in the smaller cup, with sweet underlying tones, tasting a bit like custard, while the brew in the tall cup tastes a little like rum. As you can imagine Toby’s mind was blown, not to mention his tastebuds. He was suitably impressed and in awe of this man’s passion and skill. Impressed enough to spend $22 on one cup of coffee. Yes you heard that right. You get what you pay for. We’ve come a long way from 43 bean flavour.
After having EIGHT shots of coffee this morning, on an empty tummy, Toby was understandably feeling a little crook in the guts by the time he got back to our hotel (all worth it of course). He read that after lots of caffeine, electrolytes can help so a Gatorade was administered immediately.
After returning all our bags to the trailer and a small incident where Ross accidentally ran the trailer over his own foot - nothing to see here, just a flesh wound - we were on the road again. We’d decided to grab some breakfast in bayside St Kilda this morning but hadn’t taken into account the 28,000 participant-strong marathon being run through Melbourne today. There were barricades up and road closures everywhere and parking spots were as rare as hen’s teeth. We took a risk and parked in a Permit 22 spot, not having a clue what a Permit 22 was and where on earth we’d get hold of one. The circumstances were extenuating after all. I’m sure we could plead ignorance.
The temperature in Melbourne was a balmy 26 degrees today and St Kilda Beach, with its Rodeo Drive-style rows of statuesque palm trees was simply sparkling. A little ironically, a local brass band was set up on the sunny promenade, belting out “Let It Snow” and we had a visit from a wandering Santa, rugged up and sweating in his jolly red suit. As seagulls soared overhead, we dined at the Beachcomber restaurant, its tables resplendently dressed in big orange and white striped beach umbrellas, overlooking the water and the buzzing activity of the walkway.
After a quick perusal of our summery surroundings, including a glimpse of Melbourne’s famous Luna Park face, (which, let’s face it, looks like he’s having a bad day and in my humble opinion is vastly inferior to our big-eyed happy version) we were ready to go. The road closures had made the traffic quite congested and people were parked on both sides of all the narrow back streets, making it challenging to negotiate to say the least. Ross found himself in one such street where the corner was extremely tight for our trailer-towing set-up and with our appointed look-outs in place - Sam’s head out one window and Molly’s head out the other - he expertly commanded us through. A spontaneous round of exuberant applause erupted as he made the turn, only centimetres to spare on either side. Precision driving at its best. Good job Rossco.
After St Kilda, we drove a little further down Port Philip Bay to take a peek at Brighton Beach and its iconic bathing boxes. I’ve always wanted to see these in the flesh, so to speak, and they are as vibrant and gorgeous in real-life as they are in pictures. As we strolled along the beach, buckets and spades were out in force, sunbathers draped along the steps and kids splashed and played in the shallows, collecting shells and swimming with starfish as big as your head. One family had set-up a birthday party on the sand in front of their hut; colourful balloons bobbing around through the open doorway. The fun, bright, popping colours of the beach huts in the sunshine contrasted with the clear, twinkling sea was enough to put a smile on anyone’s dial.
As we wove around the coastline today, I was trying to get my head around where we were driving; get the lay of the land more or less. I was lamenting out loud, the loss of the old-school paper map - the one you could stretch out on the table and see the big picture but the kids really had no concept of what I was talking about. GPS is great, obviously, but you can either only see a little section at a time or zoom out and lose all the little place names. I was surprised therefore, not having yet acquired the aforementioned paper map, to find we were close to the very tip of the skinny peninsula that juts out into the sea, part of Point Nepean National Park. Ross, Sam and I wandered up a wide track that opened up to a magnificent beach, white sand strewn with driftwood, clear blue water lapping on the shore.
We checked-in to our beachside accommodation at Sorrento and were spoilt for choice regarding which beach we’d go to for an afternoon dip. Sorrento is a gorgeous place, full of stunning historic limestone buildings dating back as far as the 1870s. Originally home to the Boon Wurrung people, Sorrento’s sublimely beautiful landscape wraps around the coast with access to both the Bay and the ocean. Nearby Portsea is just as picturesque and gave us a glimpse into the lifestyes of the rich and famous. Huge modern mansions - each one looking like some sort of special museum or function centre, but just a house - towered over the waters below. We headed to the ocean beach at Sorrento and were wowed afresh by the views. There was a big flat-topped rock off the beach and sandy, grassy headlands standing proudly, either end of the sandy stretch. The water was refreshing and invigorating (both euphemisms for COLD) but nice once you’d taken the plunge.
With most of the pubs and restaurants in town already booked out for tonight, we enjoyed a delicious meal at Panda, the restaurant right next door, whose sign declares: We are dog friendly, if your dog’s friendly, before wandering, under the sweet Sorrento moon, a few metres home. With none of the local churches offering night-time services in Sorrento, we decided to have a night in, piling on the lounge together and watching our own Narrabeen service online.
