Upon a bench in city’s thrall,
Just off the path of Bourke St Mall,
A crusted roll in hand so tight,
With flavors rich and pure delight.
The crunch, the taste, a midday treat,
With herbs and spice both fresh and sweet.
A simple feast, yet none compare,
To Banh Mi savored in the air.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 771
Bourke St Mall
The man in gray - he is motionless like a statue. He is often hanging around the mall
Olympus E520
150mm f2
When the Hopetoun Tea Rooms opens in its new home on the
corner of Bourke and McKillop Streets later this year, it will continue a
128-year legacy.
After more than a century in the Block Arcade – where
generations of Melburnians have queued for a pot of tea, a slice of cake and a
piece of history – the institution announced in 2020 that it would be moving to
a new CBD site after a change of ownership.
The local treasure will reopen this summer in the grand
163-year-old Bourke Street building that was formerly home to Kozminsky
jewellery, under the stewardship of new owner Vikram Singh. But before then,
Hopetoun’s sought-after cakes, pastries and house-blended teas are available at
its new shop.
Hopetoun Bakeshop – located at the new site – is a “modern
take on a traditional English bakery”, says Singh, with heritage-green walls,
marble counters and gold trimmings, as well as shelves lined with loose-leaf
teas, house-made jams and relishes, and a collection of teaware.
A display case is crammed with spongy gateaux, delicate
biscuits, seasonal fruit tarts and savoury sandwiches, pies and pasties geared
towards the grab-and-go crowd. But those dining in can watch the pastry chefs
at work in their new kitchen, which will also function as the “engine room” for
the tea rooms.
“We were in a very small space in the Block Arcade,” says
Singh, who was a Hopetoun customer before saving the stalwart from closure when
it went into administration in 2020.
“People knew the brand because it had been running in the
same space for such a long time. But it was constrained, especially the
kitchen,” says Singh. “It was set up to prepare scones and sandwiches, but
people’s eating habits have changed – they want more variety, and, at the same
time, really good quality … the art of pastry has evolved so much. We couldn’t
have taken the brand to the next level in that place.”
When the tea rooms reopen in December, the building will
house a ground-floor dining room, afternoon tea service on level one, and on
the top floor, a function space for bridal parties, baby showers and so on.
“It was important we remain in a heritage building that has
a bit of history,” says Singh. “Melbourne is well-known for its food expertise,
so how do we differentiate ourselves? We’re offering people a piece of history.
When Singh and the team landed on the former Kozminsky
building, they also found a surprise connection to Hopetoun. “Lady Hopetoun
[the wife of the Governor of Victoria from 1889 to 1895, and the shop’s
namesake] was a customer of Kozminsky jewellers, and we’ve got some photos
where she actually modelled in a newspaper wearing Kozminsky jewellery.”
History and heritage are inextricably tied to the Hopetoun brand, and Singh has no intention of changing that. “Our customer base – some of whom have been going to Hopetoun for 60 years – have been telling us beautiful stories of how they went with their grandmother and now they’d like to take their granddaughter. We don’t want to change.”
“I come from a tea-loving nation, India,” says Singh. “So the tea part really excited me. I want to promote good-quality tea drinking, which is what’s lacking in Australia. People still see tea as the humble teabag.”
A signature of the tea rooms is its traditional afternoon
tea service featuring dainty sandwiches, pastries and scones. While that’s on
hold until the new space opens, the bake shop is offering a Devonshire tea,
including those scones topped with house-made berry jam and Gippsland Jersey
clotted cream.
The tea rooms will open in late 2023 at 421 Bourke Street, Melbourne.
and FACE OFF
Laughter on Bourke
He sat in sun, a man of years,
With laughter loud that chased the fears,
In sunglasses, his joy a flare
That split the noon with blazing care.
Beside him, quiet, his small young son,
A shadow short beneath the sun,
Looked up as if to catch the fire
That lit his father's brief desire.
The street around, a surging tide,
With trams and heels and time's long stride,
Yet in that pause the world stood still—
Just sun and blood, and love’s goodwill.
A city’s heart beat all around,
But sweeter was that human sound:
A father's laugh, deep-cut and real,
That spoke what mouths can’t always feel.
On Bourke they sat, mid noon’s wide sprawl,
Two lives adrift, yet held by all—
By sunlight, kinship, breath, and grace,
And joy that time cannot erase.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 886 This has been one of the top 10 favorite posted on my blog here
A Lady on Bourke in Greying Light
Upon the cobbles of Bourke Street fair,
Where trams do hum through autumn air,
A lady passed in monochrome,
Her youth aglow though shades had grown.
She walked alone, yet not alone,
For in her ears sweet tunes had flown,
A Walkman played its whispered song,
A timeworn tape that sang along.
Her tresses curled like drifting flame,
Though black and white concealed her name,
She bore her spoils in papered grace,
From shops agleam in city’s face.
A bum bag slung with no pretense,
‘Twixt fashion’s flair and innocence,
She paused beneath the falling leaves,
As dusk drew in on gentle eves.
No winter yet, but chill in shade,
The light grew thin, yet undismayed,
She danced in step with music’s flow,
A fleeting ghost from long ago.
And though the years may swiftly pass,
Like tramlines threading panes of glass,
Still in that frame she softly stands—
A song, a stroll, two listening hands.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 884 and FACE OFF
(Same poem as yesterday)
A youth with mullet trailing wild,
A cap hung low, the city’s child,
Stood firm where footsteps throng and blur,
His violin his saboteur.
With rosined bow and eyes cast low,
He summoned tunes both fast and slow,
Each note a cry, a silver thread
Unspooling dreams the street had shed.
Behind him flowed the tram’s refrain,
Its bell a chime through smoke and rain,
While cars crawled past in tangled streams,
Oblivious to his stitched dreams.
He played not for applause or coin,
But for the world he might rejoin—
Where echoes rise through autumn's breath,
And songs outlive the hush of death.
Bourke watched in greys and neon hue,
As music flared and nightfall grew.
The crowd passed by, then circled round—
A boy, a bow, defying sound.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out
An alley off of Little Bourke,
Where silence wraps the city's murk,
The night breathes low in amber hue,
Street lamps cast their solemn view.
Their golden halos gently fall
On cobblestones, worn smooth and small,
Each stone a story, soft and old,
Of boots and dreams, of hands grown cold.
Shadows stretch along the lane,
In quiet rhythm, soft as rain.
The city's hum is far, then near—
A breath, a step, a whisper clear.
Here secrets cling to brick and wall,
Where time forgets to move at all.
In Melbourne's heart, in hush and gleam,
The alley hums a half-lost dream.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 580
She is always there in Bourke St Mall doing a simple dance routine that does not stand out in the crowd
Credit to the persistence
Pentax K20D
Fa 31mm f1.8 limited
Upon the bustling city's lane,
Where melodies once soared in vain,
He strums no more by lantern's glow,
His tunes now lost where echoes go.
Bourke Street hums with weary tread,
Yet lacks the songs once widely spread.
The hollow wind, it hums alone—
A minstrel's voice now turned to stone.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 778
Down Little Bourke, mid city’s hum,
A man walks on, his fingers numb.
His hairline fades with time’s embrace,
Yet focus lights his solemn face.
Eyes fixed upon the glowing screen,
Unmoved by all the urban scene,
He drifts through crowds in silent zone,
A world away, yet not alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 35mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 805
Off Bourke Street’s curve in silver light,
A man on wheels begins his flight
Helmeted, silent, e-bike hum,
A shadow in the city’s thrum.
Behind, beneath a brooding sky,
A woman dressed in black walks by.
Her hat, a moon of quiet grace,
No rush, no fear upon her face.
She holds a hand, a boy’s small frame,
His steps unsure, yet not the same
For anchored firm in her still pace,
He walks the world with gentle grace.
Monochrome moments, soft and wide,
Lives in motion, paths that glide.
No words exchanged, yet somehow known
Each stranger walking not alone.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 900
On Bourke Street Mall where the city hums,
And midday light on pavement drums,
A young man stands with cap drawn low,
Beside an elder, moving slow.
She rests upon a striped bench, still,
Her hands upon the frame she fills—
A four-wheeled guide through time and pace,
While crowds pass by without a face.
He leans in close, a gentle grace,
Perhaps a word, perhaps embrace.
No need for praise or loud acclaim,
Just quiet care without a name.
Among the trams and hurried feet,
Two lives in stillness gently meet—
A moment soft, of silent art,
Drawn not in speech, but open heart.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 877 and FACE OFF
A chef in white with blade in hand,
Moves swift as silk, precise and grand;
The cleaver sings, a steely hum,
As golden skin and flesh succumb.
The duck lies whole, its journey done,
Crisped by fire, by craft, by sun.
Each stroke reveals a secret lore—
Of banquet halls and emperors’ war.
Steam rises soft in evening air,
Spiced perfume drifting everywhere;
And down the lane, the watchers wait,
Drawn close by scent, by luck, by fate.
On Little Bourke, where old meets new,
Tradition carves the world in two.
Sony A7RV
FE 24mm f1.4 GM
Check out Candid 828
A youth with mullet trailing wild,
A cap hung low, the city’s child,
Stood firm where footsteps throng and blur,
His violin his saboteur.
With rosined bow and eyes cast low,
He summoned tunes both fast and slow,
Each note a cry, a silver thread
Unspooling dreams the street had shed.
Behind him flowed the tram’s refrain,
Its bell a chime through smoke and rain,
While cars crawled past in tangled streams,
Oblivious to his stitched dreams.
He played not for applause or coin,
But for the world he might rejoin—
Where echoes rise through autumn's breath,
And songs outlive the hush of death.
Bourke watched in greys and neon hue,
As music flared and nightfall grew.
The crowd passed by, then circled round—
A boy, a bow, defying sound.
Sony A7RV
FE 135mm f1.8 GM
Check out Candid 885
Two men in singlets, legs outstretched,
In summer’s ease, their silence etched.
A bench off Bourke, a quiet fold,
Where city stories still unfold.
Their voices low, like rivers run,
Not loud with boast, nor seeking sun
But private words in open air,
A fleeting trust, unspoken care.
Their shorts are creased from hours sat still,
The world around them loud, yet chill.
And though the trams may clatter by,
Their space is calm beneath the sky.
A monochrome of time slowed down,
No need for stage, no mask, no crown
Just two old friends in midday light,
Their laughter soft, their bond held tight.
Sony A7RV
FE 50mm f1.2 GM
Check out Candid 901
