I like walking in winter. A helluva lot more than summer, especially here in Brisbane. When it gets hot enough, walking isn’t just unpleasant, it’s borderline dangerous. You’re not just sweating, you’re stewing. Heat exhaustion is a real thing, and in my case, so is collecting new skin cancers. So when the weather finally turns—when the air bites a little and the nights hang on longer—I swap out the gym for long walks at first light.
Well, not even first light, really. It’s still dark when I set out. And there’s something about that, walking through the cold and the dark while most of the city’s still asleep, I love it. It’s just you, your breath fogging in the air, and the sound of your footsteps on the pavement.
But what really makes it magical is stumbling across a café that’s already open. You’re out in this quiet void, everything shut up and dark, and then magically this little island of light and warmth appears. A glow behind a window. A barista pulling shots. People talking in low voices. It’s not just about the coffee (although that first hit of caffeine does taste like deliverance). It’s about finding that small, bright sanctuary in the dark.
Modern phone cameras are great, but they don’t really capture it because they make half-light look fully illuminated. But when it’s cold and dark and the world feels half-dreamed, these places feel little chapels.
I think that’s half the reason I walk so far some mornings. There’s always the chance of finding somewhere magical, just around the corner in the dark. Below is Ash & Monty’s, where you’ll usually find me at about 5.30 am on Tuesday through winter.
