Good afternoon, Chapel Street

Contrast and colour fills the street. People of every sound and scent navigate the asphalt and concrete. From the over perfumed, to those in body odour denial; from fitness-fetished lycra lads, to the mobility scooter pilots in their ugg boot slippers. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such an assortment of flavours and personalities. A sense of conviction and identity is intense in every character and it’s worn like a flag as they go about their business on Chapel street.

There are elderly blokes in Akubra hats and wayfarer sunnies. Muscle cars with engines screaming will stop to let them cross and we’ll all hear a few bars of Working Class Man. The down-and-out ask politely for loose change with out-stretched hats and sunny faces. While further down, buskers play El Condor Pasa on wooden flutes

The aroma of espresso seduces the under-caffeinated and over worked. Business suits share tables with rockabilly parents who sip foamy mugs through pierced lips opposite quiff-topped kids. They will choose the environment that best defines them. Skinny tie or fat; skinny laté or flat white. Embracing the culture, I’ll pick another corner café, with another unusual name. The dark timbre of the room will be complemented with unexpected objects moonlighting as décor.

Sharing caffeine addictions and similar upper-inflections in their accents, the pretentious will mix with those who don’t take themselves too seriously; high-visibility vests will sit next to tweed coats; black will rub shoulders with white - and they’ll celebrate Melbourne in the best way they know how.

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