Fresh perspective

I’ve grown up around Paddington. I have wandered its streets, worked in its cafés, studied for exams ensconced in Berkelouw Books, danced at Oxford Art Factory and spent Saturdays poring over the treasures of Paddington Markets (I even had my own stall during a brief dalliance with jewellery making). 

I know this suburb and adore its architecture, gardens, galleries and charms. And though there is a lot of comfort in the familiar, it has also been fun to watch it change. While many of the buildings here may be old, Paddington has always embraced the new — be it a book club (Darlo General hosts a fabulous one), a café (I can’t wait for Padre’s coffee/concept store at Five Ways), or a renovation worth swooning over.  

When you truly know a place, though, it can feel as if everything is tied up with a memory. When I walk through Paddington today, I recall meandering conversations with old friends at The Bellevue Hotel, lockdown rambles from Boundary to Queen St, or the first time I took my niece for an Italian feast at Vino e Cucina (where, in true toddler style, she was more besotted with the 352 bus than her pasta). 

Paddington is a treasure trove, but sometimes, to really get swept up in its nostalgia-free wonders you need entirely new eyes. 

I’ve spent nearly half my life overseas, which means that now that I’ve resettled in Sydney, I have a collection of friends keen to claim my spare room. When a recent guest came to visit — a Londoner desperate to escape the tail end of a very long British winter — I took her to see the city’s icons. We caught a ferry to Manly, ate fish and chips at Watsons Bay, soaked up the art at Sydney Modern, and felt suitably wild while hiking in the Blue Mountains.

But the place she adored most was Paddington. She waxed lyrical about the way locals dressed, the long lunches, the liveliness, the genuine sense of community. 

And I loved sharing my home with her, largely because it reminded me of just how much we have on offer. In fact, I adored my local guiding experience so much that I highly recommend you call a far-flung friend, convince them to venture to Sydney and embark on the below itinerary, which is guaranteed to make you both fall under Paddington’s spell. 

Begin your day with breakfast at Cafe Köket, where the Scandi decor and courtyard are as calming as their Skagen-inspired salmon is scrumptious. The fact that Köket is attached to the clothing and design store Funkis is an added bonus. Purchase a kanelbulle (cinnamon bun) for later and head to the vibrant, flower-festooned terraces on pedestrianised Little Napier St, just behind the old College of Fine Arts, now the UNSW School of Art & Design, Paddington campus, with its fabulously daring UNSW Galleries. 

Or, back up Oxford St, you can bask beneath the arches of Paddington Reservoir Gardens — inspired by both the Hanging Gardens of Babylon and the ancient Baths of Caracalla.  

In an ideal world, your tour will take place on a sunny Saturday, meaning the Paddington Markets will be in full swing. Recent artistic finds have included ceramicist Rob Fuller and gorgeous jewels from Mitchell Maker. What’s most delightful about the markets, though, is just how easy it is to strike up a conversation with the stallholders. Every maker has a tale and is often as keen to talk about life as much as their wares.

You’ll inevitably have shopped up an appetite, so I recommend taking your visitor to a Paddo classic: 10 William St, if you’re feeling glam; The Unicorn Hotel for a pub staple paired with lashings of Australiana; or The Paddington for fancy chicken and chips. 

An afternoon needs to be spent admiring the Aussie brands on display at The Intersection (I’m a Scanlan Theodore devotee), before venturing into the back streets in search of gems — perhaps in the form of By Charlotte jewellery or photography from Poppy Pack. Top off your tour with street art appreciation on Iona, Hopewell and Perry lanes, before toasting the day with a Mexico-inspired cocktail from El Primo Sanchez, found in the revamped Rose, Shamrock & Thistle building.

Sipping a primo margarita there, I thought about how fabulous it is to share a place you prize with someone who is experiencing it for the very first time. I felt a strange sense of pride that a suburb so steeped in memory will be part of someone else’s Sydney story — a destination they’ll always associate with character, flavour and exceptional architecture. 

My friend will rave about Paddington for years and, swept up in her ardour, I feel like I've seen it for the very first time.