🍵 Melbourne Part 1 - The First Sip is the Deepest
I’m on the SkyBus — top deck, naturally — and the Melbourne caffeine arc has officially begun.
The city of coffee, here I come.
It’s been nearly seven years since I last made this trip. Same airport, same bus, probably the same half-asleep strangers… but I’m a very different me. More curious. More caffeinated. And somehow, still very bad at remembering sunscreen.
I nabbed a seat on the second floor (because when you start a trip, you commit to main character energy), but the prime front-row view was already taken. A tragedy. Still, I took it as a sign to look inward. Reflect. Romanticise. Begin the journey.
There’s something wild about being back in a place you once knew, and feeling like you’re meeting it for the first time.
Maybe it’s because I haven’t travelled in over a year — practically unheard of for someone whose goal was to take a gap year and travel.
Maybe it’s because I’ve recently discovered a whole new dimension of joy in coffee and food — not just as sustenance, but as storytelling.
Or maybe I’m just delirious from being awake since 1am, and running solely on adrenaline, airport mints, and the dream of a really good Iced Long Black.
Whatever it is, something’s different.
This isn’t just a trip. It’s a toast.
A toast to rediscovery. To well-poured coffee.
So here we go — bags in hand, SPF forgotten, spirit high.
Melbourne: I’m back. Let’s sip. 🍵🥶
☕ Shop 1: Patricia
A decaf miracle disguised as Melbourne’s busiest laneway haunt.
This was stop one on my Melbourne coffee pilgrimage — the official first sip.
I’d scoped it on the map, saw it wasn’t open on weekends, and knew: this was my one shot. No second chances. No backup plan. So I dragged myself and my tiny suitcase through Melbourne’s grey, grimy morning streets — determined, sleep-deprived, and dangerously under-caffeinated.
The vibe was off at first. The streets were eerily quiet, like I’d entered some kind of post-apocalyptic cityscape where the only survivors were pigeons and rogue cyclists. I turned down a narrow alleyway, questioning my life choices and GPS reliability…
…and then I heard it.
Voices. Laughter. Coffee cups clinking like wind chimes in a retail dystopia.
I turned the corner and BAM — a line. Not just a queue. A Melbourne queue. Dozens deep. Spiralling out like a brunch cult. I had officially arrived.
Apparently in this city, if there’s no line, it’s not worth it. And Patricia? Oh, she’s worth it.
The Ritual
By the time I got to the front, I was sweating from nerves (and also possibly Melbourne’s cold mist disguised as humidity). I’d heard the rumours — Melbourne coffee people don’t mess around.
Would they laugh at me for asking for decaf?
Would they throw my cup out of the window?
Instead: a smile.
“Yes, we do decaf.”
And just like that, I was healed.
The interior was chic and minimalist — no fluff, just coffee. Seven baristas (yes, seven) were moving in perfect rhythm behind the bar, pulling shots, steaming milk, giving off an intimidating intensity until one of them locked eyes with me mid-sip and said:
“We’ve got seven staff on today. Sometimes eight.”
I think they saw me counting.
The Sip
Reader, this was the best coffee I’ve ever had.
I don’t usually like acidity in my coffee — I’m more of a dark-roast, punch-you-in-the-palate kind of girl — but this? This was a revelation.
It was bright but balanced. Crisp but deep. Like someone extracted the concept of “morning clarity” and brewed it into a cup.
I planned to drink it slowly as I wandered back to the hotel. It didn’t even last half the alley.
The Scene
There’s a sign on the floor that says “STANDING ROOM ONLY”, and I loved that. Everyone huddled outside in little penguin formations, sipping silently and collectively deciding this was worth the $6 and slight frostbite.
There’s only one takeaway cup — clean white with “Patricia” written in minimalist black — and no ice cups. Just confidence.
And honestly? I respect that.
Matcha Toast Memory
Mood: Anxious decaf drinker in a city of caffeinated excellence
Barista Energy: Surprisingly warm, despite looking like a choreographed espresso SWAT team
Cup Vibe: No-frills white cup. No ice cups. No apologies.
Main Character Moment: When they said yes to decaf and saved my entire morning
Unexpected Delight: Literally the best cup of decaf I’ve ever had. Life-changing.
Café Vibe: Melbourne at its most Melbourne — intense, stylish, slightly smug (in a good way)
Matcha Leaves: 5/5 🍵
Final Sip
Patricia didn’t just serve me coffee. She converted me.
She set the tone, the benchmark, the blueprint. Every sip after this would be measured in Patricia units. Bold. Crisp. Transcendent.
I walked in a doubter. I walked out a disciple.
Let’s sip. 🍵🥶
⟶ First sip down, energy up. Time to chase the next stop and test my Melbourne stamina.
☕ Shop 2: Puzzle Coffee
A beautiful cup. A disappointing brew. And one existential caffeine spiral.
After Patricia, I was still high. Coffee high, that is.
The kind of elation where you start to believe you’re capable of anything — a 12-hour itinerary, 10 cafés, maybe even a casual marathon through the laneways of Melbourne. (Okay maybe not that last one. My calves said no.)
But let’s just say, I wasn’t done.
So I started walking again, still sipping on memory, looking for my next café fix. I stumbled into Bench Coffee Co first — absolutely gorgeous. Full-length black mirrored walls. Sleek enough to be a Tokyo perfume bar. I was entranced… until the barista dropped the bomb:
“We don’t do decaf.”
Excuse me?
The betrayal cut deep.
I smiled politely, left silently, and did not cry (outwardly).
So when I reached Puzzle Coffee, I was fragile. Vulnerable. On edge. One more rejection and I’d spiral straight into the Yarra River.
The Ritual
Thankfully, Puzzle did decaf.
The barista offered it without flinching, without side-eye, without passive-aggressive sighs. We love that. I placed my order and waited, still half-heartbroken but cautiously optimistic.
The café itself? Chic. Minimalist. Beige tones. Puzzle pieces subtly embedded in the décor like an adult daycare designed by Muji.
It reminded me a little of Industry Beans, but with less foliage and more corporate therapy energy.
The Sip
Here’s the thing.
The cup was cute — deceptively plain until the ice melted just enough to reveal a sleek black puzzle piece logo on the inside. Very much a metaphor for life. Or whatever.
But the coffee?
Lukewarm. Acidic. Watery.
I wanted to love it, I really did. I wanted to forgive them. Maybe I was still riding the Patricia high and everything else felt subpar by comparison, but this just didn’t hit.
It was like being excited about a movie because the trailer slapped — but then the plot flopped and the sound mixing was off.
I finished it, of course. I’m not a quitter.
But I didn’t enjoy it.
Matcha Toast Memory
Mood: Emotionally fragile from decaf rejection, still caffeinated and hopeful
Barista Energy: Chill, unbothered, did not crush my soul (thank you)
Cup Vibe: Sleek, minimalist, hiding a puzzle piece like an Easter egg
Main Character Moment: More like filler episode energy. But hey, we moved the plot forward.
Unexpected Detail: The slow reveal of the puzzle piece logo felt weirdly poetic
Café Vibe: Pretty to look at. Easy to forget.
Matcha Leaves: 2/5 🍵
Final Sip
Puzzle Coffee was, in fact, a puzzle.
It had the branding. It had the logo reveal. It had all the pieces to be memorable — but the centrepiece was missing: the coffee.
Maybe it just wasn’t my day.
Or maybe, just maybe… Patricia ruined me.
Let’s sip. 🍵🥶
⟶ I had a plan. The universe had… detours.
☕ Shop 3: People’s Coffee
Lured in by signage. Saved by the coffee. Nearly lost to a bathroom emergency.
Let me preface this by saying: this café was not on my original hit list.
But sometimes in life — and especially in Melbourne — you get distracted.
Earlier that morning, I’d passed a mysterious storefront on my way to Patricia. Clean black and white signage. Light box glowing like a beacon. A simple human figure outlined like it was leading me somewhere.
I was drawn in. Intrigued. Spiritually trafficked by aesthetic design.
But I kept walking. Patricia was the priority.
Hours later, after a matcha, a hojicha, and a coconut-mikan sorbet (don’t ask), I found myself in the area again. I was caffeinated, over-sugared, and starting to feel the tell-tale rumble of regret.
That’s when I saw it again. The outline. The signage. The glowing siren of People’s Coffee.
And I remembered they were closed on weekends.
This was it. My window. So I marched in, ordered my decaf Iced Long Black, and...
Suddenly realised I needed to pee. Urgently.
The Panic
There’s a specific kind of internal chaos that happens when you're holding a full cup of coffee and about to burst.
So I asked for the bathroom key.
They handed me an actual physical key like it was a motel room from the 80s.
I grabbed it, clutched my drink, and sprinted.
Did I get to watch the barista make my coffee?
Absolutely not.
Did I care?
Also no.
Sometimes, self-preservation takes priority over process.
The Setup
When I returned (relieved, revived, and slightly sweaty), my drink was ready — and thank God, because I needed to recover from both urgency and embarrassment.
The café itself? Corporate chic.
All white interiors. Marble counter. Rows of neatly stacked take-home meals designed for people who still use Google Calendar to track their macros.
The design was crisp. Functional. Slightly soul-less in the best way. I was on vacation. I was here for the vibes.
The Sip
Finally. A moment to breathe.
The coffee?
Dark. Bitter. Bold.
Sharp in the right way — like a reboot for my nervous system.
It hit the reset button on my day.
But the real MVP?
The cup.
Black print on both sides — “PPL” in bold block letters on one, and the now-iconic outline of a human on the other. The same symbol that had drawn me in like caffeine-fueled moth to minimalist flame.
Honestly? 10/10 branding. It’s the kind of cup that makes you feel like you’re holding a manifesto, not a drink.
Matcha Toast Memory
Mood: Over-caffeinated, overly dramatic, borderline unhinged
Barista Energy: Efficient. Didn’t question my emergency. Respect.
Cup Vibe: Bold and beautiful. Iconic enough to be a t-shirt.
Main Character Moment: That sprint to the bathroom? Oscar-worthy.
Unexpected Delight: My cup matched the light box. I felt chosen.
Café Vibe: For the girlie who color-codes their Google calendar — but in a hot way
Matcha Leaves: 4.5/5 🍵
Final Sip
People’s Coffee wasn’t planned, but it was perfectly timed.
It gave me what I needed — caffeine, aesthetic validation, and a bathroom break.
The coffee was great. The cup? Even better.
And that lightbox man?
Still haunts me in the best way.
Let’s sip. 🍵🥶
💬 Final Final Sip — Part 1
Three cafés down, and already the de-caffeine had me making questionable decisions — and even worse plans.
