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Showing posts with the label balcony

Adelaide: Central Market

Adelaide (or "Radelaide" as I more often hear it referred to) holds special meaning for me, because it's where my parents grew up before they relocated to Sydney in the late 1970s. As a result, I've been there a lot - particularly as a kid with the family, mainly to see the grandfolks, when they were still around. We'd stay at their place in North Plympton, on an avenue of one-storey, sand-brick houses, each and every one with a tidy lawn, neatly-pruned rose bushes, and a low fence, over which you'd chat to the neighbours. We'd hang out in the back room (because that's where the air con was), with its tiled flooring, vertical blinds, green knobbly couches, photo frames galore, and my grandfather's bar (yep, near-alcoholism goes way back in my family). Nanna would put out little bowls of Dixie Drumsticks, beer nuts and YoYo biscuits, and Grandpa would pour me a lemonade  from one of those mini blue Schweppes cans. While the grown-ups talked and Whee...

Naked In The Sky (above Naked For Satan)

Despite the name, no one got naked here. Sadly. I'm still waiting for the day when Naked For Satan (downstairs) hosts a nudist Satanists party, amped with flavoured vodkas and THE BEST CROQUETTES EVER ('cause they're pretty friggin' awesome). I guess the new upstairs venue, Naked In The Sky  (285 Brunswick Street, Fitzroy), would be the meeting place for naked angels. Or birds without their feathers. Or Supermen without their capes. Or something. I digress. My now-ex-housemate - let's call him 'The Chef' - started working at Naked In The Sky (which, frankly, I'd rather not think about in too much detail) when it opened, so I've been hearing of this place for quite a while. Prior to Christmas, just after opening, it had queues of patrons waiting to get in on Friday and Saturday nights. I was happy to wait until January to check it out. An out-of-town friend was staying with me, and what else do you do with out-of-towners in Melbourne but take t...