A good friend of yours is visiting your neck of the woods. What cheesy souvenirs do you give them? Here are six ways I’d like to welcome someone to my wonderful (adopted) city, or say “thanks for visiting” as they leave. Clockwise from top-left:

Toy Melbourne tram // Hook-turn mug // Melbourne skyline watercolour // Adorable greeting card // Pellegrini’s tea-towel // Melbourne Precincts book

Around about the Christmas / New Year period, Mr B returned from a walk around the block bouncing with excitement because a new coffee window had opened up just around the corner from our house. It is by these small milestones that we measure out life’s joys.

We love a good coffee window around these parts. When you push a double pram weighed down by more than 20 kilograms of children (and probably an afternoon’s worth of grocery shopping) around town and you’re desperate for a coffee, not having to navigate doors and steps and tables and chairs and other diners to purchase said coffee is pretty appealing.

Cafe Bü is narrow and tiny and utterly charming. The owners have made clever use of every inch of space. The coffee window is a place for my friends on the pram-brigade get their caffeine fix, along with a host of cyclists and joggers and other coffee-loving passers by. For those who want to stop, a handful of converted crates offer limited seating outside the window and, inside, stools line a second window where punters can sip their 5 Senses coffee from the warmth of the tiny cafe.

But the best part of this cafe is its little rooftop courtyard. Stairs through the back of the shop lead up to a narrow rooftop with a bar that looks out over the street, and cleverly-designed tables set against the rear-facing wall, that can fold up and down to suit groups of different sizes.

Yesterday while the children were in care, I took my computer and notes up to the sunny Cafe Bü rooftop for a working lunch, with a side of bird’s-eye view of Carlton North. After a bitterly-cold morning, the day had turned mild, windless and sunny. Perfect rooftop dining weather. A black and white stretched awning kept the worst of the glare out of my eyes, and heaters lined the back wall, although we didn’t need them.

Like the fit-out, the menu at Cafe Bü is minimalist, elegant, and lovely. I had a simple avocado toast, chai, and later a lamington and a coffee because it felt so luxurious to be able to eat my food and drink my tea while it was still hot, and it just felt so good to see blue skies and sun again.

What’s your favourite coffee spot?

There is a hand-drawn sign just inside the door of Kinfolk, a little social enterprise cafe on Bourke Street in Melbourne, and this is what it says.

rules of kinfolk

allow yourself to BE you…open up to receiving generously and giving generously…

teach others with your smile, learn to let your heart sing, your soul

dance… savour every mouthful. give thanks. Take praise. DO

what you do best and enjoy it. Share. Care… sit a while… and come again…

I’ve been wanting to share Kinfolk with you for literally years. It was one of my favourite places to go eat and read a book when we first moved to Melbourne, before I had kids and had to factor pram-parking into my eateries of choice. You’ll find it right down the bottom of Bourke Street, near Southern Cross Station, so it’s also where I used to meet friends visiting from interstate or overseas, giving them somewhere lovely to relax after they stepped off the airport bus and before we had to board the tram.

Run with the help of up to 30 volunteers, Kinfolk is a not-for-profit space, directing its income between development projects for communities in need in Rwanda, Ghana, Palm Island and Melbourne. Customers can choose where they would like the profit from their meal to go by popping a coffee bean into a jar, or trust Kinfolk to distribute it where it’s most needed.

As you’d expect, the food is seasonal and wherever possible organic, biodynamic, locally-sourced and fair-trade managed. Oh and delicious. What you see on my plate is a chicken tagine with seasonal vegetables, but there are always vegetarian and vegan options on the menu too.

Last year they ran a crowd-funding campaign and successfully raised enough money to lease the space behind the cafe, enabling them to install a commercial kitchen, build on the catering side of the business, expand the menu, add 30 percent more table seating, and increase trading hours. Through all of this, they are now able to raise more profits for their project partners.

I got the bag at Das T-Shirt Automat on Johnston Street in Fitzroy, my new go-to place for unique and thoughtful gifts (you have been warned). You can get pretty much anything you like printed here: they have bags, t-shirts, hoodies, baby onesies, cushions and all kinds of other things, but you can also bring along anything of your own and they’ll do their best to print on it. Likewise you can bring your own design, or choose from the rather awesome illustrations in their books. It’s all printed while you wait and the quality is fantastic! They’ll even help tweak your design for you. Here’s how it works:

Step 1. Just stop off at the t-shirt window on Johnston Street and choose a design or give the man your own…

Step 2. Wait patiently while the man prints what you’ve asked for. He will also manage any design tweaks you need while he’s at it (he deep etched mine, and placed it properly on the bag)…

Step 3. Et voila: your new bag, T-shirt, cushion or whatever else you ordered is ready! (FYI the bag was $20)

Also I can’t wait to try out their other printing service: records! You can bring along a recording for them to press, or record something on the spot. I think it would be pretty special to send a spoken message to someone I love, on vinyl. Yes?

And another thing I love about this place? The “Das Vending Machine” looks like a gigantic bubble-gum machine. It costs $2 to have a go, and down will pop a big plastic ball. Madeleine loved it! Much more fun than those moving toy cars at the shopping centre.

Twist the ball open to discover if you’ve won something to be printed for free. If not, don’t worry: there’s a consolation prize in every every ball. Madeleine was given the choice of a plastic banana or bubbles, which was a tough one for her until I explained that the plastic banana could not be eaten. Bubbles it was.

A big thanks to Live North for sponsoring our little jaunt down Das Automat lane! Just another reason why I love living in Melbourne’s Inner North.

Next time you’re wandering past The Local Burger Co on Rathdowne Street and the weather is just right, ask them to pack you a picnic. You don’t need to bring a thing. They’ll pop your order into a big wicker basket along with a water-proof blanket and some lovely bamboo cutlery.* All you need to do is amble across the road to the park and crack open those famous sweet potato fries.

This post was brought to you by my very hungry family, and the Live North Facebook page, who sponsored our outdoor dining adventure. Photos brought to you by my trusty iPhone because I was too busy stuffing my face to pull out the camera

* For a $20 deposit, refunded when you return the basket and blanket

ps. I’m pleased to announce the winner of last week’s competition for family passes to the Melbourne Museum and IMAX, also thanks to Live North. Congratulations Tawhi, I hope you have a great time!

Anyway, WE WILL ALL BE OK. Which is why it’s definitely not as bad as all that, you know? And last night, I took a little break from it all. A friend and I went out to see Three Stuffed Mums, as part of the Melbourne Comedy Festival. There’s nothing quite like a good belly-laugh with The Sisterhood, as we bond over those toddler Abs of Steel that appear when you’re trying to wrestle them into a pram or car seat; or the fact that the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when walking past a teenager’s room because of all the static generated by their numerous electrical devices (not to mention the funky smell); or the sad reality that after performing the miracle of pregnancy, childbirth and often breastfeeding, most of our body parts now seem to want to head south.

I’m really grateful to these funny mums for comping me the tickets because not only was the show a great laugh and very close to home, it was also such a treat just to get out at night! It’s so rare that I do, I’m always mildly surprised to see everyone else out and about and enjoying the evening, just as though it’s a normal thing to do. I keep forgetting. This novelty was so profound that it wasn’t even ruined by the fact that after getting all dressed up (read: put on lippy, swap flip-flops for heels and unearth a jacket without have spit-up on it), I couldn’t find my umbrella so I had to walk down the street carrying Madeleine’s miniature, multicoloured and spotty number to keep off the rain.

If you want to go see these mums and laugh along with them (and me), you can get your tickets here.

(Photo is an old one of me with two of my dearest girlfriends. It makes me so happy to look at this.)

I live in a really great part of Melbourne, known as the “Inner North.” What do I love about it?

It’s a 20 minute walk from my place into the heart of the city, yet everywhere around us is quiet and peaceful. We’re in a historically-protected area, so most of the homes in our street are more than 100 years old, with their beautiful Victorian facades preserved. A walk to the park today is barely changed from the same walk a century ago.

Buildings in our area are peppered with wonderful vintage advertising painted onto their brickwork. There are cobblestoned laneways behind the homes. And the main streets are choc full of amazing food: cafes, restaurants, bars, food trucks and organic produce; as well as shops that boast beautiful homewares, vintage finds, fashion and art.

Are you ready to visit me yet?

If you are, I may have the perfect travel guide for you. Jauntful is a new (free) digital tool that makes it incredibly easy to design attractive online guides that are also printable (with maps). Pretty nifty, huh?

I’ve just designed my very first guide, focusing on great places to eat and visit in Melbourne’s Inner North, with babies or toddlers in tow. I’m not talking about places that deliberately bill themselves as family-friendly, necessarily: all too often those places are noisy and grotty and garish and the coffee is appalling. Instead, I’m talking about the sorts of places you’d want to visit even without kids (and you totally should!), which just so happen to be super supportive of those of us sporting miniature humans, and frequently include some special extras that keep the kids happy and make our lives easier.

So, here is my guide (scroll down through it too see all the places I recommend). What do you think? Do you want to come visit my neighbourhood (with or without kids)?

The toddler-and-baby friendly Inner North

And now for the competition

To celebrate the launch of a new Facebook page called “Live North” that celebrates all the great things about Melbourne’s Inner North, sponsored by Hockingstuart, I’ve been invited to give you guys a gift: a family pass to Melbourne Museum (two adults and two children), PLUS a family pass (two adults and two children) to see Unseen World at IMAX Melbourne. The total value of this prize is $75.

To enter, simply send me an email (nabulger AT gmail DOT com) with “Live North” in the subject line. I’ll select the winner at random so making your message funny or cute won’t win you any extra points, but it WILL make it fun for me to read, so don’t hold back if you’re so inclined! The competition closes at 3pm this Friday 11 April (Melbourne time, of course). Only one entry per person, but you can enter other members of your family (or your friends), as long as they are over 18.

UPDATE: This competition is now closed. Congratulations Tawhi!

ps. The Live North Facebook page has also launched a HUGE competition to win dining and shopping in the Inner North, worth more than $4000! Enter here.

When we came to a fountain I crouched beside her to point out its features (highly educational comments, like “Can you see the mer-people holding up that heavy platform?” and “Oh look, those children are nudie-rudy just like you in the bath”). Madeleine squatted beside me and gave the fountain her full attention, rolling her eyes and saying “Oh Mummy” at that last comment.

Harry watched the wind flirt with the still-green trees and said nothing.

We walked around the duck pond. At each new fountain, Madeleine pulled hard on my hand until we both crouched again and pondered the inscrutableness of sculptural water. Ducks traced water-lines through fallen leaves on the still pond, and it would all have felt very Zen if it wasn’t for the soundtrack of an excited “Quack! Quack!” coming from the toddler attached to my left hand.

Harry watched three seagulls circle a fig tree and said nothing.

We stayed an hour in that park, just looking at fountains, looking at ducks, looking at seagulls, looking at trees. When I put Madeleine back into the pram and headed across the road into Gertrude Street, it was as though a spell had broken. The silence of our still and simple walk was torn apart. Madeleine began to grizzle. “Nom nom?” she asked, which was fair enough as it was well past her usual lunch time. Harry stopped watching the sky and fell asleep. We turned towards home.

These autumn days are wild and windswept.

One moment they are humid and heavy, ripe with old summer gone to seed. Sun-hats and sunscreen and sweaty sheets, kicked off in the night. The next, the air turns cold and these days tumble into thoughts of green apples and roast vegetables. Hot chocolate under blankets, pink rain-boots, and waiting for the leaves to fall.

These days are 10 chubby fingers and 10 chubby toes, waving in the air. New words learned every day; brothers and sisters holding hands; and twirling: joyful, exuberant twirling.

Long hours these days are passed with kisses and big, beautiful smiles. Raspberries blown into fat-creases on perfect little thighs.

Small fingers softly exploring my face.

They are fevers and ‘flus; mountains of tissues; long cuddles through sad nights.

These days are taking those first, glorious steps outside into the autumn air, when everyone is finally starting to feel better and the four walls of our house have drawn uncomfortably close: freedom at last. Cafes and coffees, exploring old streets and new, a row of rainbow-hued watering-cans.

All too much excitement for some.

People are always talking about how folks have become desensitised in this day and age. (Did I really just type “in this day and age”? What am I, 80?) We are told that computer games, the nightly news, the Internet and goodness knows what else have made us impervious to the true horrors of war, to the complex realities of love, to the fact that the kid who rode his bike into a duck pond on Funniest Home Videos actually hurt himself.

In my case, I can add to that list “amazing feats of strength and skill and cheating death.” If you show me acrobatics on television, for example, I’ll say “Wow” but I’m not really there, if you know what I mean.

You can’t be desensitised inside the Spiegeltent. It is all just too close, too intimate. You can actually hear the artists hold their breath before a particularly difficult lift. You can see the sweat of effort trickling between their shoulder-blades. At one point, during which two acrobatic artists on roller-skates defied gravity in a terrifying spin, I whispered to Tons, “These seats may actually be a bit too good.” Because if just one thing went wrong, the both of them could have hurtled into our laps at 100 kilometres an hour.

Empire calls itself “a love letter from New York City.” Inspired by the vintage days of vaudeville, it is a no-holds-barred performance. Announcements are made before the start of the show to the effect of “Please do not use flash photography or you will kill our artists.” And that pretty much sets the tone. The acrobats defy death and wonder and creativity and dreams. The singer belts out those notes. The audience has goose bumps. That drag-queen comedy duo did NOT just say that (they did). They did NOT just do that (they did). We are roaring with laughter one moment and biting our lips the next.

In the finale act a man slowly, painstakingly, balances a feather on a stick. Then he balances the feather and stick on another stick. And so on and so on, each stick getting bigger and bigger. The whole process takes forever. You’d think it would be boring, but the suspense is palpable, and the entire room is on the edge of its seat.

Desensitised? We are the opposite of desensitised. We are inside the performance, every one of us terrified, willing him not to drop that feather. The applause when he lifts that precariously-balanced, complex weave of sticks and single feather into the air is thunderous. It sounds crazy when I write it but you really had to be there.

Honestly, you did have to be there. If you haven’t seen Empire yet, it runs in Melbourne until 30 March. If you get a chance to go along, take it! You’ll love every one of the 90 minutes. (Just leave the kids at home, those jokes are not for the little ones). Tickets are on sale here.

In the interests of full disclosure, you should know I received the tickets to see Empire free of charge. But I was under no obligation to write kindly about it, or indeed to write about it at all. They didn’t even ask me to. That I did willingly because this show was amazing. Thank you Spiegelworld!

Here’s a sneak preview of the show. And remember, this is the Spiegeltent. So as close as those cameras appear to be, that’s how close you’ll be too. Yikes!

Update: I’ve just been told the show has been extended to 11 May 2014.