Like a migratory bird, I decided that I would take myself north for the winter (or at least just for the weekend). My short trip to Brisbane warmed up my soul like a fresh pastry in the oven. I love Melbourne, including it's grey weather, but I needed to soak up a heavy dose of vitamin D to reboot my weary soul.
We began our Saturday with the necessary breakfast to fuel us for our day ahead.
Satisfying but nothing to write home about - but only that's only because Melbourne haunts like St Ali have ruined me for any other brunch spot in Australia. If it's not mindblowing, doesn't deserve a facebook status update.
We spent our post-breakfast lull exploring a rather wonderful antiques store - stuffed full of vintage curiosities...
(Creepy baby dolls and gender stereotypes make me laugh!)
...and some alarming ones.
Miss I, me and...Kevin 07?
We then made our way towards the Teneriffe festival. A lovely sun shiney yuppified family affair with food and market stalls. I couldn't resist a vintage lemon ice tea as we walked along the river. The sun was...relentless. As was my complaining and imminent fear of being sunburnt. 'Miss I' bore it well. Well done, my friend.
Me: 'Look Natural'! Miss I: 'Huh??'
After exhausting the main drag, we made our way down the hipster lane section of the festival. Obviously that's not what it was called officially but let us just say, calico bags with quirky prints abounded, worn by kids wearing slightly too short pants.
I think Tenneriffe is where all the pretty people live, in pretty houses.
The rest of the day was spent lounging al fresco at the Powerhouse bar, watching the boats go by on the river, and a home cooked dinner with friends in the evening.