One of my favourite haunts in Newtown is Campos Coffee. It is so tiny that it is easy to overlook. However, its reputation for fantastic coffee ensures that people flock through its doors daily. You smell Campos before you actually see its tiny entrance. Last year my son Jonathan's birthday present to me was an outing to Campos for an affogato. Their affogato's are out of this world. This week I had a coffee with a friend at Campos.
We sat at the counter in front of the window, with the sun streaming in. Behind us was the chatter of customers waiting for their orders for coffee, and the sounds of the machines grinding coffee, frothing milk. A beautiful spot for a conversation with a friend. We leave to walk the streets of Newtown.
The Newtown I know is filled with beauty spots. Last year I read an article about Sydney in which the author talks about her impressions of Sydney: She asks the question is "Sydney is ...my glittering tart...or is Sydney like a weathered whore?" She continues to debate how she sees Sydney: "Sydney's glitter is tarnished. there's no doubt her youthful facade is wrinkled and her middle-aged spread is only increasing the flatulence from her roads and chimneys."
It would be easy for someone to use this description for Newtown, but if they have, they haven't explored Newtown on foot. My friend and I wandered down to the oval at Camperdown Park between Mallett and Australia Streets. It is a quiet green space bordered by old warehouses and terrace houses. There are now two cafes fronting this park. Sitting on the grass is a crowd of large prams filled with brand new babies and their exhausted Mums. They are enjoying coffee, sunshine and chatter. One of the Mum's is a friend. Her baby is screaming, so we take him for a walk down Australia street to check out Mitchell and Hopkins - a new cafe that has just opened. This was part of the old Toyota warehouse. It is now repainted and includes a child care centre and this cafe. It looks elegant and sleek.
From the front of the cafe we can smell freshly baked biscuits - passionfruit shortbread, orange poppyseed biscuits, florentines - a wonderful selection that are baked on the premises and sold either in the cafe or in packets to passers by. We both fill the pram with packets of biscuits to take home and hold the baby in an attempt to settle his screams. He seems to like lying on his tummy in my arms.
Lawrence Hopkins and Sam Mitchell have turned an eyesore into a new beauty spot for locals looking for a new place for coffee and conversations with friends. We return the baby to his Mum and wander home. We have enjoyed the sunshine and Newtown.
In Kyrgyzstan, during May, the alps are covered in wild poppies. They are bright red and orange. We missed seeing them at their peak, but a few remained such as those on this postcard.
I think of God when He looks at poppies. I imagine that He looks down at His people, who are the most unlikely looking "pods" and then they burst forth - he takes great delight in our uniqueness. He loves each of his creations. I think that sometimes when we look at ourselves, we see the pod, but God sees the flower.