Kabe World

Opportunities snatched under the morning sky- a guy selling his art work on a bridge over the river. A rush of light and then silence. The click of a camera; the gasp of an inward breath, young eyes full of delight and a red sky full of wonder .This place, I had been waiting for.

We arrived just after sunrise – the city aglow in a mist of red, we could only ponder on what glory lay ahead of us – my brother and I; friends . A young man pointed us in the direction of Degraves Street – my manager from the West coast had promised me culinary wonder, and an excellent cup of coffee; we ordered two each. ‘That was a good flat white’ we noted. We were just two, weighed down by over-sized bags and tired eyes, led by wonder, in search of double shots and a breakfast menu, an orchestrated echo of voices filling the morning air. Nestled in a lane way, we sat among businessmen, friends, the young, the old, the travelled and those on route - nameless voices creating a tapestry of sound around me, engulfed in the song of the city. ‘I think I’m going to like it here’, I scribble down. We sit, and try to soak it all in – the waitress in the stripy dungarees and white pumps, the mum and her two daughters on the table next to us, the man in a suit making a business call. I feel a part of something – embroidered into the patchwork of dreamers who settle here for their morning wake up call, caffeine and conversation seeping from the walls, time momentarily pausing. The daily news is replaced with tales of art and culture, well written magazines showcasing expression of my own mind. It’s refreshing – I feel refreshed, despite having only had about four hours sleep on a cramped train from Sydney. Mumford and Sons sing of hopeless wanderers, and whilst I am wandering, I feel hopeful. We came in earlier than planned for the yearly White Night festival upon the recommendation of four girls we met on the way – ‘if you’re in Melbourne on the twenty second, then you must go, the whole city is alight.’ She spoke of purple rain and umbrellas to shelter from the falling light. We changed our train to be here – it seemed like too much of a good opportunity to miss.

Under the haze of the morning sky, this place felt like coming home, 9000 miles away from home. Now when I see a red sky, I think of Melbourne, in all its arty glory, full of hope, wonder, and seriously good coffee - for those mornings when I need my own early morning wake up call.