Chasing the Sun: The laugh-out-loud summer romance you need on your holiday!. Katy Colins
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she pulled away and looked me up and down.
‘Hey, yeah, you too,’ she said in an unenthusiastic Aussie drawl. ‘So, we going soon? I need to be away from these fucking buses.’
Shell nodded and turned to me. ‘You ready to go? We’ve just endured an eleven-hour journey to get here and, as much as I love travel, there’s little joy in taking the overnight Greyhound.’ She shuddered. ‘Poor Cara was bent in half for the whole trip.’
‘Apparently extra leg room didn’t occur to them to be an essential design feature.’ Cara pursed her lips, which were slicked with deep berry lipstick. ‘If it wasn’t the lack of personal space, then it was the screaming children. Who the hell thinks it’s okay to take a toddler on such a long trip? Seriously, I was so glad I’d packed a sleeping tablet and my headphones, otherwise I’d never have managed any sleep.’
I nodded as Cara strode off; with her long legs every one of her steps was three of ours. When she was out of earshot, Shelley turned to me.
‘I’m sorry if she seems in a bit of a mood. Usually she’s a lot chattier.’ She winced. ‘It’s because I told her we were coming to Melbourne by bus; she presumed we’d be flying here from Sydney.’
‘Ah. I gathered she wasn’t enamoured with the mode of transport.’
‘She hasn’t really travelled before, well, not in the backpacking sense anyway, and I thought it would be fun for her, and us, to relive it a little!’
I was about to ask what exactly was planned for this trip, but I was cut off by Cara shouting at us to get a move on as she’d never needed caffeine more in her life than she did right now.
‘I’m sure after a coffee or two she’ll lighten up!’ Shelley linked my arm and shouted back at Cara to slow down so us mere mortals could catch her up.
We’d only been walking for a few minutes before Cara stopped at an achingly cool coffee shop where Melbourne hipsters seemingly went to breed. Soothing smells of ground beans wafted in the decidedly autumnal air, tinged with pretentiousness and smugness.
‘I knew Melburnians liked their coffee, but this place is ridic,’ Shelley whispered, as a man with a pruned-to-perfection moustache wandered past, flashing a glimpse of hairy ankle in his loafers.
‘It’s artisan.’ Cara sniffed, sipping her room-temperature, soya-milk, extra-foam, organic latte. I was struggling to get the cup of basic Americana down me as my stomach gurgled loudly.
‘You say tomato, I say tomato,’ Shelley laughed, finding us seats on rustic wooden benches and upturned oil barrels with floral cushions plonked on top.
‘Oh come on, it’s totally on trend.’ Cara pulled her iPhone out of her handbag and took a photo of the chalkboard next to us. ‘I’m so Instagramming this!’ She pointed at the twee saying about how coffee drinkers make better thinkers, or some bollocks like that. ‘I found this place via this new app that tells you all the hidden gems and the hottest places to go before they get too mainstream. Last week I found this café in Sydney called Midnight Munchies that’s only open from midnight to 2 a.m. So freakin’ cool.’
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