so, two mondays ago, i hit the ground running. actually, walking as fast as i could with a large pack on my back, halfway up the spine of the city, after waking up at 5, after a flight that included no food except for the half-filled paper cup of hottish water and mediocre teabag that i paid $3 for and, thank god, the chocolate treat slid across to me at zumbo a couple days earlier — all chopped almonds and dark chocolate coating, over a luscious, meltaway salted butter caramel core… excuse me, my mind wandered. and so after the airport shuttle dropped me off at southern cross station, and after i found out that the next hotel shuttle would be 20 minutes away, i slung on my backpack and walked.

the shop right before my hotel entrance was a kitchenware emporium, with 400 pink and white balloons in the front window, suggesting, “let’s cook!”. if they had said, “let’s eat!” i would have taken it as a very good sign.

still, the hotel turned out to be just a block away from koko black, so that is where i went first. as i neared the royal arcade, it struck me that there was a queue of people stretching out into the mall, and i became immediately concerned that there would be no tables available at the chocolate salon. but the queue was to enter the jewelry store on the corner. phew.

you enter the koko black, and it’s like running the gauntlet: bars on the left, truffles on the right. straight ahead it’s a drink station and a wall of gift boxes and a staircase leading up to the salon. it’s all marble tables, and plush chairs, and the chili hot chocolate that appears quite a while after you order it is like a saucy painted lady. the heat is right there at the front of your tongue, and lingers after you swallow: afterglow. it is rich, though not thick and cloying, and there is just enough of it. if you take your time and sip gently, the pink fancy in the crema will last, more or less unscathed right until the very bottom of the cup, when the slightest inhalation will suck it right into your mouth before you quite realise what has happened. afterwards, you will want to return, tomorrow, for the cinnamon hot chocolate.

slightly buzzy (only chocolate and liquids so far; why oh why no breakfast foods, koko black?), i walked to the ngv and tried to be impressed by the sneaker exhibition. but the majority were macho terminator sneakers, and generally uncharming. so i went down to the cafeteria instead and was charmed by the dessert bar: a cluster of fat jam donuts, glasses of chocolate mousse and what’s that? i asked the countergirl. it was bannoffee pie, but not like any banoffee pie i’d ever seen. prepared ‘slice-style’, a crumbly biscuit base, with sliced banana, a pillow of whipped cream atop a blanket of thick caramel. this is what i’m going back to melbourne for. because at the time, i thought i should eat something not made solely of sugar.

overlooking the great, grey hall of the gallery foyer, i had a large bowl of chickpea and bacon soup, with bread and butter. the bacon makes all the difference.

and then i caught the tram to fitzroy, but being monday, half the fun stuff was closed. the enormous dangerfield clearance warehouse at the start of brunswick street though, that was open, and welcomed me with this rather fetching t-shirt with a merry skull print: hours of fun mixing and matching ahead.

later i walked the city streets in the drizzle. the sun was setting, then set, and everything was dark and glinty, except for the dazzling oasis that was lord of the fries. i ordered a cone of fries with “european mayo”, and a mini burger, and couldn’t think of anything more trashy than to eat it sprawled on my grand expanse of hotel bed.

the fries were delicious: hot waxy potato — real potato, you could tell from the skin still attached — with a tantalising crunch upfront. i was underwhelmed by the mayonnaise, but maybe it was just the residual tang of strepsil on my tongue interfering. the burger, i didn’t get to until i was back in my room, so it was somewhat tepid from the ten minute walk in the cold. it went down like a regular fast food chain burger, somewhat squishy in the patty, and now that i have the innernet at my disposal once more, i have discovered that the patty is not meat at all! the company website proudly reveals that they “use a product called Textured Vegetable Protein” [their caps]. well!

and then, you know what? i fell asleep. barely past nine-thirty, struggling to follow “brothers and sisters”, i gave in to the crisp white linen and the four fat pillows.

so far, so good.