The Finders Keepers Markets: Week 217

Finders Keepers Market Autumn/Winter 2015: Sydney, Australia

The Finders Keepers is a super hip craft fair that takes places twice a year inside the Australian Technology Park in Sydney. It is pretty much Etsy in flesh and bones and it draws quite a large crowd. The hall was originally a locomotive workshop, so it definitely lends a shabby chic atmosphere to the markets.

Barret and I paid a small donation to enter the event center and we were immediately swept away by the crowd. There was everything from clothing to candles in the shape of doll heads that, when burned, exposed a waxy pink brain.

The Finders Keepers Market- You Me & Bones Candles: Sydney, Australia

My guilty pleasure at craft fairs is quality ceramics and the best products I found were at a small booth called Skimming Stones. The artist who designed the collection of six plates worked in collaboration with a Japanese ceramic company named Kihara.

Skimming Stones plates at The Finders Keepers markets: Sydney, Australia

The result was an interesting fusion of Australiana with the traditional blue and white colors of Arita pottery. Barret and I couldn’t resist a plate with the kookaburra. They are very cheeky birds that sound like monkeys and one once stole the food right out of Barret’s mouth.

The Finders Keepers Markets - Fluffe Cotton Candy: Sydney, Australia

The queues for the food trucks were very long, so I made the sensible decision to buy a piña colada flavored cotton candy with a pink umbrella. Later on, while Barret was distracted, I made another sensible decision to buy a ceramic necklace in the shape of a giant piece of macaroni.

Flower vendor at The Finders Keepers market: Sydney, Australia

There was so much to see that it took us just under two hours to visit only half of the booths. I was also trying to photograph all of the cute stuff I saw, but it wasn’t easy with the crowds.

Bowtie vendor at The Finders Keepers market: Sydney, Australia

Towards the exit, and a few stalls down from a Polaroid booth, Barret and I found screen printed tea towels. At this point we were running low on cash, but we scraped up enough for two. One had Sydney scenes and the other had sketches of terrace homes. I had a sinking suspicion that our luggage was going to be overweight, but it was definitely worth it.

Vendor business cards at The Finders Keepers markets: Sydney, Australia

About: The Finders Keepers

About: You, Me & Bones candles

About: Skimming Stones plates

About: Fluffe cotton candy

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The Neighborhood Pub Crawl: Week 216

The Rose Hotel in Chippendale: Sydney, Australia

I have often contemplated the curious color palette of The Rose Hotel on my way to work. In the nicest way possible, I would say the names of the paint chips were Victorian Christmas and baby vomit.

Although I was very familiar with the exterior of the hotel, I hadn’t been inside until the ‘fight of the century’ between Mayweather and Pacquiao. The main bar with the trompe l’oeil ceilings was full, so Barret and I found a wood bench in the spacious courtyard and ordered a round of Bloody Marys with lunch. With the exception of one loud group, the audience was cheering for Pacquiao and when he lost the hotel quickly emptied.

A laundry line outside a house in Darlington: Sydney, Australia

Barret and I followed the exodus of people back out onto the street, but the afternoon weather was so nice that we decided to take a different route home. From Chippendale we walked through a quiet residential street in Darlington before ending up in Redfern.

A faded and peeling wall in Redfern: Sydney, Australia

It wasn’t so long ago that Redfern was a rough neighborhood, but the last decade has brought about significant gentrification. Strolling down Regent Street, Barret and I popped into an antique shop and against better judgment we left with two small spoons made from cow bones. Thin black decorative lines were carved into the polished surface.

Front door of The Bearded Tit in Redfern: Sydney, Australia

A few doors down from the antique shop was an establishment called The Bearded Tit. It’s an LGBT-friendly bar named after a puffy white bird that breeds in the reedy swamps of Europe and Asia. The backyard housed a ‘caravan of love’ and the gender-less bathrooms had a large moose hanging near the sinks.

A coaster at The Bearded Tit: Sydney, Australia

The best part about The Bearded Tit was its support for art. Local and international artists can apply to have their work displayed in a number of unique ways- from a wall to a curiosity cabinet. A ‘taxidermy tableaux’ surrounded a TV that was perfect for video art and resident artists could receive free bar food and 50% off drinks.

A small bakery on the Regent Street in Redfern: Sydney, Australia

After a round of champagne, Barret and I continued our circuitous journey home. Small family-owned restaurants, bakeries, and video rental relics lined the rest of Regent Street.

A terrace house in Erskineville: Sydney, Australia

It was dinnertime when we reached Erskineville, but neither of us wanted to cook so we walked through our neighborhood and towards the southern end of Newtown.

The Union Hotel in Newtown: Sydney, Australia

The Union Hotel had a lively cover band in the front and a large self-contained restaurant in the back. We ordered food and sat down near a father and his young daughter whom were both reading books. While there are more charming hotels further up King Street, Barret and I were both drawn to the classic brick Aussie hotel circa 1946.

The reason that I like Sydney’s inner west neighborhoods so much is that they are a perfect combination of historic buildings, livability, and community culture. It’s definitely not a cheap place to live, but you’d be hard-pressed to find a better area for a stroll and a neighborhood pub crawl.

How to get to The Rose Hotel: 52-54 Cleveland Street, Chippendale NSW 2008

How to get to The Bearded Tit: 183 Regent Street, Redfern NSW 2016

How to get to the Union Hotel: 576 King Street, Newtown NSW 2042

The Redfern Terrace: Week 186

Illustration of a terrace home in Sydney. By: Stephanie Potell

Jason, the realtor, rocked up forty minutes late on his bike. He was in his early twenties and super keen about his job. “Because of the time of year,” he began as he led us into the house, “most of your flatmates are moving out. This creates exciting potential for you to pick your new flatmates. You could even recommend your friends and share the place with people you know!”

Ever since moving to Sydney, I have lovingly gazed upon the terrace homes that populate the inner west. It wasn’t too long ago that many of these urban homes were neglected and undesirable, but that definitely isn’t the case anymore. The same property that sold for $25,000 in the 1970s could now potentially fetch a million dollars. The neighborhood we were in, Redfern, had a funky vibe and the terrace we were looking at had space to store our bikes on the patio.

I have a good feeling about this! If this is the one we can move in this weekend!

Just after this thought popped into my mind, we reached the living room. It was dark and sparse like a bachelor’s pad. Jason pointed out the ‘new’ couch and then led us into the kitchen that looked significantly better online.

“We have inspections twice a year and if everything is not up to standard, then the tenants get a warning.” Jason explained. “If the house continues to be dirty, then we hire a cleaner. Don’t worry, this house had never failed inspection.” I’m sure Jason thought that was a great threat, but to me it sounded more like a great idea.

From the kitchen Barret and I were led outside and along the side of the house to the small brick courtyard. A bunch of our potential flat mates were huddled around the BBQ grilling meat and drinking beers. “We didn’t plan this!” Jason exclaimed. “I swear!” He chuckled before pointing out a small brick building in the furthest corner of the yard. “And the best part is that you don’t have to go inside to use the nice toilet- you can use the one out here.”

After greeting the group of guys, we walked back inside and up to what I really wanted to see- the bedroom with the terrace. The terrace was just as nice as I had imagined it would be. A cool breeze blew in through the double doors and the neighbor’s red bottlebrush tree blossomed at eye level. I could see myself on the weekend propping my legs up with a cup of tea and people watching the morning away. I loved it.

The only problem was the rest of the house. The online ad had mentioned two bathrooms, but that number included the brick outhouse in the backyard.

“Uh, Jason, how many people live here again?”

“It would be six including you.”

“And there’s only one shower?”

“Yes.”

No wonder there were only guys living there. “Hmm… I thought there were two showers.”

“Well, I can’t make another one appear.”

No kidding I thought, but it probably wouldn’t have hurt to advertise the property more accurately. Jason impatiently shrugged his shoulders and began reading every minute detail on the lease. You can have 5-9 people over before you need to ask permission. There’s a $50 charge if you call us out for something unnecessary like for a broken vacuum when really the bag is just full. The oven is gas which is great because it heats your food up faster. Are you familiar with them?

While Jason read the four page document out loud, one of the flatmates walked downstairs clutching his own roll of toilet paper. Jason must have noticed this too because he mentioned again how nice it would be if we got our friends on board. “It’s just better when you share things, you know?”

Jason was eager for us to sign, but I politely deferred. “I’d like to look at the bathroom again before I make up my mind.” Barret and I headed back upstairs. The shower floor was covered in hair and a million bottles. The room was small and humid and I realized that I already hated the idea of touching anything in there.

In fact I hated everything except for the balcony, and you know what? The price had somehow increased by $20 a week.

It was our first time house-hunting for an old two-story terrace and it would have been great if it were the right place, but that’s just not how the Sydney real estate market works. And so the search continued…

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