I was fortunate to have a weekend away with beautiful girlfriends in Byron Bay over the last few days. Everyone raves about Byron, the food, the beaches, the hinterlands and the warm and kind people. Byron has a way of attracting all the best parts of Australia to one spot, like a mini microclimate of everything I love about Australia.
Thank goodness the stars were aligned in our favour to move us back to Auckland, arriving just as spring loosens its grip on the country and all that is magnificent about this great city comes to life.
After attempting and failing miserably to climb the epic hills which are the San Francisco urban landscape, we cowardly hailed and stowed ourselves on the first bus heading south to the famed Mission district.
As I was trundling down Parramatta Road this week in ever-increasing drizzle, I was greeted with a welcome beacon of hope.
Café Paci offers a depth of experience that rarely exists in Sydney eateries. Your senses are thrown awry as you step through the door to a bright, fluorescent-lit, narrow corridor, leading to a garish red and grey, block painted stair. I felt like I was being drawn into a communist-style interrogation room.