city of my heart

Warning, mammoth catch up post ahead. Grab a cup of tea. You’ll probably be hungry after reading it too!

A few weeks ago, Tom and I spent some time in Melbourne, a city that was home for a few years, quite a long time ago now (it feels recent, but it really wasn’t!). We had not been there since 2019 and at the height of the pandemic, while it was the world’s most locked down city, I wasn’t sure when or if we would ever get there again. It was a joyful reunion indeed.

I expected to find the city very different, given all it has endured over the past few years, but I was surprised to find it very much the same vibrant and inspiring place that I had loved so much, and that had loved me right back. There were some subtle changes, of course. I went looking for places that I slowly realised had probably been gone long before the pandemic!

But many old favourites remain, still standing, thriving even. Being back in Melbourne reminded me that, whatever might get thrown at us in life, and despite the scars it leaves, we can survive, endure, and emerge stronger.

There’s something to make you smile on almost every corner of the city. Perhaps it was because we were staying in the CBD (right in the centre of things) but it felt like everyone wanted to be out - dancing, laughing, seeing, seizing the day. We saw a hen party on Swanston Street one evening, on our way to a dear friend’s birthday party (one of the reasons for our visit), some 30 women in ponchos (it was raining!) laughing and dancing in a silent disco who suddenly all started singing in a joyful chorus, like birds at dawn. Everyone who saw them couldn’t help but grin.

On our balcony!

A friend messaged me while we were there - Tom had put a photo of the two of us on his social media, which she saw. She felt moved to email me and tell me that it was nice to see me looking happy. "There's an ease in your face that hasn't been there for a while," she wrote. That got me thinking.

One day, my friends, the truth about everything that has happened this year, and the years before it, will be told. But for now, Amanda Palmer said it brilliantly: “I try to accept and embrace my own thin skin in the face of yet another catastrophic blast to my psyche, trying to hang onto the mast of my own ship…I have found my power in shutting up…My power is only just beginning to emerge.” 

This trip to Melbourne with my wonderful husband, and the words of my dear kind friend who took the time to message me, reminded me of that. That I survived everything that was thrown at me while I lived there and clung to my dreams for dear life, and got to the other side. I returned, battle weary, but still hopeful, still striving. Full circle moment.

Having a change of scene was just what Tom and I needed too. We love Tasmania and both agreed, unprompted by the other, that we feel comfortable, safe and happy in Hobart, but I cannot deny what a tonic visiting the mainland is. It’s like we’re in a different, yet very familiar, country. Soaking up a different energy and vibe, I felt renewed and energised after what has felt like a long, cold winter.

Of all the places I’ve ever lived, Melbourne is the only city that felt like home immediately. It will be the city of my heart, always. And like all the true, long-standing friendships in my life, once we were reunited, it was as though we had never been apart.

So without further ado, let me catch you up on the Melbourne trip with the usual headings!

Favourite experience

I’m sure most of you will recognise this lady - she needs no introduction!

Speaking of friends, seeing them again was without a doubt the best part of the trip. What a joy it was to be reunited with these wonderful people (not all of them pictured!). We saw as many as we could, but alas illness, weather and simply not enough time got in the way of us seeing everyone. I’m so grateful for the time we did get though. And I am determined, once flight prices return to some modicum of reasonable (what is up with Hobart to Melbourne flights being nearly $1000 at the moment?!), to visit again really soon. My Melbourne friends are some of the most important people in my life. I felt so seen, so safe, so unconditionally supported in their company. I hadn’t realised how much I’d needed that. And I heard from my sisters and quite a few Hobart friends while we were away too, so the whole week was just a wonderful reminder of how many good people we have in our lives, people we don’t have to prove ourselves to, people we don’t need to convince that we’re worthy of their love - we already have it. Like I say, much needed.

Reading

I didn’t read much! I finished Shonda Rimes’ Year of Yes which I really enjoyed. Paid a visit to the Book Grocer on Bourke Street, of course (why oh why did Hobart lose Book City? I know, I know, I’m living in the past) where I found a few great vegan cookbooks. Have already made some recipes from them which I’ll share in my next weekly update, which will also be a mammoth read, just to warn you.

Eating and drinking

Unsurprisingly, I have a lot to share! Where do I begin…. I’m just going to tell you about all the places we loved!

My long time readers, especially those who have been reading since I was a resident of Melbourne, will not be surprised to learn that dumplings were a high priority. The priority, truth be told.

I googled “best vegan dumplings in Melbourne” and so we went to ShanDong MaMa where the vegan zucchini dumplings were indeed sublime. The only mistake I made was adding chilli oil - I had a throat infection and had thought, stupidly, that chilli might nuke the lingering bugs. No, it only resulted in a massive coughing fit which, unsurprisingly, prompted many worried stares!

I had been informed that my old favourite Shanghai Dumpling House had been a covid closure, but nevertheless I wanted to stroll down Tattersalls Lane for old times sake. Lo and behold, it was open! Shanghai Dumpling lives! We went for dinner a few nights later and it was delightful. Delicious, simple, filling, hot and tasty. I did not have any chilli, as tempted as I was. Has Shanghai been restored to its former glory as my favourite Melbourne dumpling place? Absolutely.

Union Kiosk was probably the discovery of the trip. Incredible coffee (OMG Melbourne coffee, how I had missed it!) and an all-vegan menu of delicious jaffles (in Tassie they are called toasties). Tom and I couldn’t believe our luck to have stumbled upon the place. It was so difficult to pick - we shared one on our first visit but soon realised that was a mistake. On subsequent visits we got one each! Seriously sensational. We sat at an outside table, eating the delicious sandwiches, sipping the glorious coffee, and gazed around in wonder and gratitude, pinching ourselves that we were there at all. I am still dreaming about those toasties. Number 6 was our favourite. And next time I’m there, assuming I’m not under the weather, I’ll be brave and try something spicy, maybe the kimchi gochugang one.

We walked to Abbotsford on the Sunday to have lunch with some friends of ours at the Caringbush Hotel, a wonderful pub with a fully vegetarian and vegan menu. Bliss! Again, glorious to have the entire menu to choose from rather than just one or two tired options. Tom’s “lamb” ragu with gnocchi was startlingly realistic. “Are you sure this isn’t meat?” he whispered to me more than once!

I went with a roasted cauliflower, salad and tahini yoghurt as I was feeling the effects of 48 hours of mostly toasties and dumplings. It was also magnificent. Our friends, who are not vegetarian, loved their mains too.

Every cake in the box below is both vegan and gluten free. I know, I couldn’t believe it either! This was dessert one lovely evening that we spent with our friends - old friends from London who moved back to Melbourne recently. There was so much to catch up on! The cakes were so good. I’m still thinking about them. I have forgotten the name of the place but I’ll check and edit the post accordingly…trust me, if you live nearby you’ll want to check it out.

EDIT: Tash saw this post and texted me the details! The amazing cakes were from Voila in Coburg North.

In terms of vegan burgers, we were spoiled for choice with Lord of the Fries and Grill’d, both of which I sorely wish were available in Hobart! Grill’d was particularly excellent value, with 2 for 1 Meatfree Mondays.

We were also in Melbourne for work, and after that very successful, satisfying and rather epic day, we took the tram out to Northcote to try Brother Bon, as highly recommended by Cindy and Michael of Here’s the Veg. Sidenote: if you are a vegan and visiting Melbourne (or Brisbane, they recently went there), check this blog out, it was endlessly helpful in deciding where to eat!

Brother Bon exceeded every expectation. We were exhausted, starving and utterly high on life after our wonderful day, and so probably over ordered but we were so hungry and it was all so delicious, we didn’t care! Everything on the very extensive menu is vegan - yes, we double checked as we were in such disbelief - and it was very hard to choose. We ended up having the tofu bites and dumplings to start, and then Tom went with the very generous “fish and chips” - battered banana blossom, not unlike what we had at Erpingham House in Norwich six months ago! - and I had a gorgeous wok-smoky noodle dish, char kway teow with “chicken” (six proteins to choose from). We walked halfway back to the city after that meal, it was much needed! Absolutely phenomenal.

Non-alcoholic Prosecco, and very good it was too.

Finally, a dear old favourite bar which I was delighted to reacquaint myself with, Naked for Satan on bustling Brunswick Street. I met a friend there, and it was a beautiful warm afternoon. I had some wonderful, unexpected news that afternoon and so my friend was the first person I told (sorry Tommy!). To sit on a rooftop gazing at the Melbourne skyline in a bustling bar with one of my best friends and toast a much-wanted success was very special. Utter bliss.

We didn’t get to Brunswick Aces, nor a few other places we were keen to try, but all the more reason to come back again soon!

Watching and listening

We went to a party where our friend, who is a DJ, got on the decks and played some bangers! Most of which I have added to my inner summer playlist. Shazam on the iPhone is awesome!

We also spent a day on a video and photo shoot for an amazing indie musician, whose new songs are truly beautiful and memorable. We’ve been editing that EPK for the last few weeks - Tom has really outdone himself this time! Her new album is dropping next year - stay tuned!

Wearing

All I can say is I’m so glad I took my winter coat - I wore it pretty much every day! Poor Tom was hoping to buy a new coat while we were there but we had no luck. No wonder he, sadly, caught my cold!

I also wore my new Converse Chuck 70 recycled canvas sneakers non-stop - I love that I can wear them with both dresses and jeans. They look very stylish and are so comfortable. The main criterion for any shoe I buy is - can I walk in them? One of the best purchases of the year, for sure. Super handy for a city break.

Quote of the trip

It would have been Sylvia Plath’s 90th birthday a few days before our trip. I have been reading a wonderful recent biography of her, as well as her collected Letters, and came across this. It sums up how I feel about the trip and about life right now. I take every chance I can to ground myself in the present, express gratitude and try not to take things and people for granted. However, the only word that doesn’t sit right with me is cling - because I am trying not to do that. Seize moments, be acutely aware of the preciousness of life and love, but not cling to anything, where possible. Very much a work in progress.

“Remember, remember, this is now, and now, and now. Life it, feel it, cling to it. I want to become acutely aware of all I’ve taken for granted.” - Sylvia Plath

It was an incredible trip, a much needed change of scene, and a week where Tom and I felt bathed in friendship, love and good energy. It’s been a tough year but we’re both really ready to cast off that heaviness and regain a sense of fun and promise, and to prioritise joy. I think that will be my mantra going into 2023…which can you believe is only a month or so away now?!

Lots more to tell you, which I promise will be soon. I hope you’re doing well xx

See you again soon, Melbourne!

Please note: this blog post has affiliate links with retailers such as Booktopia which means I may receive a commission for a sale that I refer, at no extra cost to you.

instagram vs reality

A page from my journal.

I like to give off the impression that I’m pretty together. That I’ve got my shit worked out or at least I have enough self-awareness to know what I need to work on. That I behave consciously. That I know what makes me happy and what doesn’t, and do my best to have as much as possible of the former in my life and the bare-arsed minimum of the latter.

And yet. And yet. I still care way too much about what things look like rather than what they feel like. I still care way too much about what people think. I still feel the sting of rejection and being misunderstood to my marrow. I still try far too hard to control other people’s impressions and experience of me. Ever since I arrived home, so many Phils have been competing to take the steering wheel off the only one I trust with this vehicle - wise, street-smart, calm Phil. All these other Phils I thought were satisfied now, their insecurities and baggage dealt with long ago. But no. No.

These past couple of years, my ego has been dying a slow, painful death. As it has lay dying, it has tried to show me, over and over again, that some (well, maybe around 90 per cent) of the things that I think matter really, really don’t. And that attempting to be part of the in crowd is a complete and utter waste of my time because I don’t belong there and I never have.

This afternoon, case in point. I had just made myself a mug of chai. I was still wearing my rather cool Kemi Telford skirt and cosy Witchery sweater from this morning’s client meeting. I thought I’d take a break from my work and enjoy a cup of tea. But then I thought “you’ve got such a nice outfit on, and this is such a pretty mug, and the light is nice, why don’t you take one of those ‘hands round the mug from above’ shots for Instagram?”

As I manipulated myself into place, I swear I could laughter from somewhere.

I read somewhere that the way all the influencers take these shots is by holding the phone in their mouths.

So there I was, outside, freezing, barefoot, with a blistering hot mug in my hands (turns out the handle is there for a reason!) and a phone in my mouth.

I could barely hold the mug, and I ended up with some kind of sore on my mouth, trying to keep the phone steady so I wouldn’t drop it and have it shatter on the concrete. The only photos I succeeded in taking were of inside my own mouth.

The phrase WTF? seemed designed for that very moment.

But all of a sudden, I saw myself.

And all I knew was I didn’t want to be this person.

And now, writing this, I feel released from something.

Every time I get drawn back into that world, of followers and likes and making everything look like a magazine and having an editorial calendar for your own bloody life, I will remember this moment.

There is so much I want to do with my life and none of it, none, involves burning my hands and hurting my mouth for a picture that won’t even legally belong to me any more once I upload it to that devilish platform.

But I also know I can’t be the only person out there who, on a day when they’re feeling a bit left out or vulnerable, sees everyone else’s shiny grids and perfectly-taken photos and feels a bit wistful….and then really, really lonely, like the uncool kid at school (which I was, so it’s a familiar feeling to me) looking at a world which, for some reason, you just aren’t part of. And every time you try to be a part of it, you end up falling flat on your face.

If you feel like that too, hi! I see you. Isn’t it hard pretending not to care when actually, deep down, you do care, even if it’s just a little bit? Isn’t it hard feeling the pull to fit in, because it’s so damn seductive?

But as Brene Brown has said, fitting in is not the same as belonging.

And I don’t want to fit in. Not really.

I try my best to be a bright, shiny, only-showing-my-good-side to the world woman, but actually….I’m pretty messy. Inside and out. My hair never behaves. My nails always break. My lipstick always ends up on my teeth. Whenever I wear white, I spill something on it. Every. Damn. Time. First world problems keep me awake at night. Some days I feel like everything is coming together and feel aligned with my purpose and calling, and other days I feel like I’ve accidentally burned all the bridges I’m trying to build.

I think being back home has reminded me of the pain of all those dark, lost years of my early adulthood, where I pretended that everything was fine and I had it all together but nothing could have been further from the truth. And sometimes I fall back into that trap. It’s hard to be real and honest and vulnerable when you’ve been hurt, both online and off. It’s hard to be yourself around people who don’t always appreciate or acknowledge how much you’ve changed, and therefore don’t always respond in the way you need or hope. But that’s another part of this revelation - I can only be me. I can only control my own actions. I can only be true to myself. I can be brave and put myself out there and know that I don’t need other people to behave or react in a certain way for me to feel safe or understood or seen or whatever. It’s hard, but it’s so freeing. The armour of perfection is too heavy.

So, no more phones in the mouth. It’s not for me. Only one-handed mug shots on my Instagram feed from now on. If at all. No more filters. Imperfection all the way. I’m going to do my best not to be afraid to show it.

PS: It took me sleeping on it to get the courage to hit publish on this post - but if life has taught me one lesson repeatedly, it’s the posts I’m most afraid to hit publish on that are probably the ones that need to be released. So here you are. Thank you for reading and listening to me :)

dumplings and change

The face of someone who had been anticipating Melbourne dumplings for some years.

On our first night in Melbourne, we made a pilgrimage to my old favourite haunt from the days when I lived in this city - the Shanghai Dumpling House. An unremarkable building down Tattersalls Lane but within lurked the most glorious treasures imaginable.

From September 2005 to April 2007, you would find me there at least one night a week (and maybe one lunchtime too). Such was the lure of dumplings. And I loved the rough-and-ready atmosphere, completely devoid of pretension. It was a place I sought refuge in, for the stomach and the soul.  

At age 25, I felt so alive and powerful in this city, like anything was possible. I loved Melbourne and it loved me right back. While the city changed a lot in the years since I’d been gone, the dumpling house was like a little time portal, exactly the place I remembered. The menus, the tables, the staff, the prices, the urns of tea, the vats of chilli soy sauce, the strange 90s music they played...it was all still the same, every time I returned.

But on our return this time, it had changed. Nothing bad, the food was still yummy, but just lots of those little details were different, which means it is not the place 25 year old Phil frequented any more. That place only exists in my memory now. To not want to claim this space and ritual for myself anymore means acknowledging how much time has passed. While the dumplings were still good, I realised I was now just going there out of nostalgia, nothing more. And that was a surprisingly sad revelation. I guess we’ve all been there, revisiting somewhere that meant so much to us in years past, only to find it doesn’t quite stir the same emotions in us any more. But that’s good, it means we’ve changed. And change is life. 

So, on a friend’s recommendation, the following night we tried another dumpling and noodle house...which was a divinely delicious experience. If you’ve been to the Nong Tang Noodle House and had these chilli oil dumplings, you’ll understand.

So, it would seem that when the time is right, it’s surprisingly easy to move on, grateful for the memories but ready for something new. Especially if it involves chilli.

you have waited long enough

Be brave enough to do what you really want.

You have waited long enough.

Humble yourself to really take on your true vocation.

Where you’ll work harder than you’ve ever worked before, be tested more than you’ve ever been tested, and where you’ll have to give everything you have, over and over again.

Where you’ll soar and fall, cry tears of joy and pain.

Where the counsel and support of others will help, but ultimately you’re on your own.

You have to crack open your own head and break your own heart.

You have so much to learn and then you’ll have to forget it all every time you meet the blank page or the blinking cursor.

Every time it will be like wading into cold water. The longer you wait to dive under, the harder and scarier it gets. You have to go under.

You have to do the work.

Not just the appearance of it. Not setting up your laptop and latte with a lovely view and curating a perfect Spotify playlist to write to.

Put your eyes where they need to be.

On the work.

Don’t let your talent and drive and ideas sit out for so long they get flat like sparkling water left in a glass.

Embrace it. Seize it. Fight for it.

Let go of your ego’s need to control everything and be prepared to get lost.

Get down on the floor, be of the earth.

Your voice matters. The stories you want to tell matter.

Give these women their voices, the voices they didn’t have while they lived.

Let go.

Lose yourself.

Who knows what you’ll find?