Leash here rattling on again.
I’ve been living in the inner west, urban fringe Sydney suburb of Marrickville for the last 6 months with a great mate and her partner in a bit of an interim period in my life – a transitional phase while I’ve been head scratching about what to do next with myself and where to set root. Fantasising.
Well, now that I have me said plan and home, I’m on the move out to the farm and tieing up the loose ends in MVille.
As far as limbos go, it’s been a lovely one. Sweet house and garden = check. Top folks = check. Great food = check. Wine! Adorable but not especially clever cat with endearing habits including getting his head stuck in a hobo bag which he then used as a parachute around the yard= um…
Marrickville is pretty much multiculturalism in a 4k bounded metropolitan box, with a bow, streamers, a cake, and a big bunch of home garden grown flowers.
The main cultural ingredients in this mix are Greek, Vietnamese, greenie and bohemian, peppered by a broad range of other influences including Nepalese, Kenyan, Thai and yuppie*. It is a great example of the permaculture principle “Use edges and value the marginal” in action. This town is that in a nutshell.
Walking down the street you’re as likely to see an old man in his sitting chair on the tile clad front porch, between his roses, tomato bush and his front balustrading tribute to the Atheneum, whittling, as you are to run upon a troupe of kids dressed like sad clowns handing out climate action flyers, and this is pretty alright.
As it’s always been a pretty cheap itinerant area, home of factories, migrants and misfits it doesn’t have the glitz and shine of other fancier suburbs, but it does have character in spades. The Greek and Vietnamese community are both enormously house proud and really into gardening which gives the whole place a leafy village type feel and the bohos juzzy up the place with their Rock Lounges, community precincts, and camels.
Provedores of all sorts abound; top notch coffee roasters and brewers, wholesale producers of fresh pasta and dumplings, direct farm sales, ice cream, Greek delis to boggle the mind and tastebuds, Vietnamese grocers up the eyeballs and nut shops aplenty. Every 20 metres or so you will also find a corner store in a typical Greek fashion which is handy and pretty endearing. They will usually sell you anything you ask for, as if they don’t stock it they often have a little in their home, tacked on the back of the shop.
Weekends almost always involve a good chill and chai fest with mates up at Addison Rd’s Sunday markets, potters in the community garden, misc. neighbourhood visits and cafe hopping here and there.
I’m glad to be making the move to the green green grass of Razorback, but I will miss my time in this sweet and very liveable parcel of an often frenetic city.
I’ve made a tribute slide show which you can check out here if you are keen for the over the top cheesy Leash Marrickville memory lane experience:
Otherwise, see you next time up at the ranch farmereenos.
*The Marrickville yuppie, whilst developing into it’s own endemic species with a Portlandia-like fondness for organic farmer’s markets, double ristretto and Pho, has heretofore been limited in range and extent owing to the greater appeal of neighbouring localities like Newtown; with it’s higher proportion of small bars, and terrace houses which are more readily converted to their stainless steel and granite kitchened, polished floored and leather couched natural habitats than the local Parthenon-esque offerings.