The birthday

30^th birthday. A landmark. What to do? We were in Europe until a week before my birthday and there was no time and head space to actually come up with a great idea for celebrating. I’m not a big drinker so didn’t really want to have a big night out (what fun is it being around a bunch of drunk people on your birthday? J). Dinner? The best place I could come up with was the place we’d just celebrated Marcus’s 29^th. Bowling? No. Laser tag? Although awesome on How I Met Your Mother, I did this (along with dinner) two years ago and it took too much coordination. People aren’t on time, they flake...too much effort. Too much effort!

So as Marcus and I were sitting in Versailles, having a cheesey, winey wonderful lunch in the gardens on our last day in Paris, I thought, maybe we should go to brunch. I love brunch! It’s my favorite meal. Let’s make brunch plans. There’s a hugely popular brunch place just around the corner from our place but we’ve never gone because the prices are a bit higher than a $7 bacon and egg roll + coffee, and there are always lines out the door. We always thought we should go try their breakfast banquet, but never got around to it. I decided this was the right time.

Done. Brunch it is. The weekend after my birthday weekend, that is. See, Marcus and I have a birthday tradition. We get to take the other person out for a surprise dinner on their birthday. Marcus started this tradition on my first birthday here in Sydney, by first taking me to a great little wine bar then to a one hat restaurant, Pendolino, where we were served by our first sommelier. Marcus then surprised me with an awesome mixer when I got home from that dinner—he is so, so good on my birthday. I probably haven’t even mentioned what he did last year. We decided to celebrate while we were in South Africa, and after booking the fanciest hotel room we’ve ever stayed in, he somehow arranged to get us the most amazing dinner plans. (The most. The fanciest. The best. You can tell I’ve become an Australian because I’m using superlatives a lot.) We were staying out in one of the wine regions, Franschhoek, which is also renowned for its food. Marcus managed to get us dinner at the Tasting Room, rated one of the top 50 restaurants in the world. The actual restaurant was closed, but somehow, this sneaky man booked us into a private dinner with just four other couples at the restaurant owner’s house. All of the chefs were on site in the owner’s kitchen cooking us up a storm and we got to watch! It was an eight-course degustation menu with matching wines, with locally, ethically and sustainably sourced ingredients, many of which are native to South Africa. Springbok, some fish, fruit and vegetables I’ve never heard of, and limes picked off the head chef’s own lime tree! It was so incredible, I was (and continue to be) gobsmacked. Amazing.

This year? Surprise trip to Tassie. Two days before my birthday, Marcus asked me what time I could get off work on Friday. I said probably around 4, and he ok’d this. Thursday, I got home from dinner with a friend and saw Marcus quickly stash away a carry-on suitcase. Hmm. So he said I’d need to take the suitcase with me to work the next day. Where are we going? “I’ll tell you tomorrow.” I love a surprise.

Friday. 3:30pm. Email from Marcus: “Wanna make your way to the airport when you finish up??”

Me: “Um, yes. Domestic or international?”

Marcus: “Yes sweetie.” This I know was accompanied by an eye roll. But really, we’ve been all over the place lately, so I still feel like it’s a valid question.

On I went to the airport. Met Marcus outside the Qantas Lounge, had a celebratory glass of bubbly, then proceeded to chat while watching Marcus check the time and listen to all of the flight announcements. After 30 minutes, we left the lounge....and left the airport. Going somewhere else? Or to the non-Qantas terminal? (Sydney’s domestic airport has two terminals—the Qantas terminal with only Qantas flights, and the terminal for all the rest of the airlines.) Aaaaand we headed to the other terminal. Okay, this means we’re flying Jetstar (Qantas’s low-budget airline, with whom Marcus also gets great staff benefits). Marcus had already checked us both in before I arrived; we went through security and on in to...who knows where? He said I got to guess. I have three guesses. Nope, only get one. My one guess? I’ve been wanting to go to Tasmania for a while now, and Marcus is pretty cluey, so I put my guess in. Yes! I win!

We flew in to Hobart where it was cold, windy and raining. A preview of the weather we’ll shortly be moving to. J  We climbed into a cab (with the super friendly driver) and headed to our hotel in the city. That was our first indication of how small Hobart is—at 8:30pm, reception was closed. We had to buzz someone on the intercom and get a code to open the lockbox to get our keys and room number. Interesting check-in. We headed up to our executive suite and marvelled at the space. And more space! The room was huge, and the furniture around the sides did little to fill it up. Perfect for morning stretching! We dropped off our things, had a bit of a breather, then went out to dinner in Salamanca square around 9:30. Which is apparently too late for food in most places in Hobart! We managed to find a gourmet burger joint that charged an arm and a leg for a burger—but at least it was a delicious burger. And the interior of the place was fantastic—fireplace, comfy chairs, bookshelves lining the wall, with exposed wooden beams and a barn feel. Definitely a good space. We enjoyed our dinner then braved the cold rain and ran back to our hotel.

The next day we woke up, Marcus made me a cup of tea in bed, and I got treated to my first birthday presents. Yes, I got presents. Ridiculous! On top of the great Tassie trip, I actually got great presents as well. I had sent Marcus a link to some vintage art deco earrings I fell in love with on Etsy, and of course he took the hint. Then one-upped me by buying another similar pair. Spoiled!!! After putting in my lovely earrings (I can never wait to wear new things), we headed down to the famous Salamanca Markets. We tasted different flavours of locally-produced mead, breakfasted on bacon and egg sandwiches and coffee, tried on hats, and bought rocky road and a fatty jam-filled doughnut. The weather was against our morning wander, however, and the sun disappeared behind rain clouds.

Another layer of socks later and a sprinkling of rain later, we found ourselves upon the swank MONA ferry, surely the fanciest ferry I’ve ever had the pleasure to ride. Espresso, craft beer and homemade treats were available for sale, and there was even VIP seating (the only advantage I could surmise was that there were fewer people and thus less condensation on the windows). The museum itself was even more beautiful. Built within a stunning, sandstone cave, the museum spans three stories and your visit begins in the depths of the cavern and you slowly move your way up. We spent about three hours there which was sufficient though of course, as with any museum, you could spend far more time there. Its name, the Museum of Old and New Art, is quite appropriate. Egyptian art sits side by side with contemporary video clips and pieces of work. Mummy tombs lie mere meters away from a red, fluffy-looking fat Porsche sculpture. A room of lounge chairs and TVs featuring interviews from people who have survived untold violence sits next to a room with a giant, concrete overturned boat with videos projecting an artist’s take on their genealogical history spliced with visually explicit shots. There was a maze-type room next to whimsical watercolours that seemed like they’d be fun and enjoyable but for the repeated genitalia. There was a rug made from a kitten pelt across the room from a simulation of euthanasia. There was a trampoline with giant Nepalese bells (made for jumping, of course) sitting in front of screens of a Hungarian butcher with scarily fast and accurate knife skills. And of course, there’s the pooping machine. Each museum-goer gets a little iPhone that features commentary on each artwork, many with historical reference, others with music to accompany the piece, and many, many notes from the museum’s owner and creator, David Walsh. Certainly a self-indulgent addition, but it was interesting to have curiosity satiated, knowing why certain pieces were on display and what his connection to them was. Because when a person makes their own museum, and it’s as randomly put together as this is (there was also a Disney room—completely non-controversial), one does wonder why that person chose certain pieces for their museum.

It was a completely enjoyable afternoon followed by a chilly walk around Battery Point and warm lunch at a lovely, unknown bakery/cafe. After heading back to our hotel and warming up, stretching out and relaxing, we went out to dinner. A lovely, fancy birthday dinner, a bottle of Pinot Noir, and a good night’s sleep.

In the morning we packed our bags and went back to Salamanca Square for breakfast. A beautiful getaway birthday trip to Tassie. That Marcus Montana, he’s definitely a winner.

The next weekend we had the brunch at a Turkish restaurant just around the corner from our place in Balmain. We’d walked past it hundreds of times, and finally decided to give it a try. It was amazing! We’d avoided the $35/head breakfast for quite some time, but turns out it was worth every penny. Four courses, and it was the only meal we ate all day. Rice pudding, mueslis, sausages, bacon, eggs, mushroom, toasts, dips, tagines, and the thickest pancake/cake things I’ve ever seen. Delicious! Brunch lasted three and a half hours. Good food. Good company. A good way to start the new decade.