Posts Tagged ‘beach’

cafe jett

Happy New Year, dear readers! Here we are, alarmingly, in 2013. Last year was pretty huge–baby! interstate wedding! moving house! various Teach injuries! family and friends with health problems I desperately want to conjure away!–and this year I hope will improve for everyone. This is a year I don’t have any resolutions or plans, apart from: clean skirting boards more frequently; do not kill loud new neighbour; make the baby laugh because it sounds hilarious when she does.


We spent NYE down at Dromana on the Mornington Peninsula, in a relative’s beautiful home overlooking the bay, along with our pals Liz and Rory. Luckily, they are used to babies, so a howling Rocket was no particular surprise for them, and she was actually pretty good–she stayed asleep throughout ALL the fireworks, including those happening in the house a few behind ours, and then woke up when Teach closed the sliding door of the balcony at the end. BABIES, YOU ARE WEIRD. Anyway, we also made our own pizzas, watched about twenty episodes of Archer, and ate biscuits and chocolate until we all went to bed with a stomachache. A good night, really. The next morning we all woke vaguely early and drove on down to the foreshore to source some food that didn’t come in a foil packet or a 1.25 litre bottle. We hit up Cafe Jett, the place we often go when we’re down here, thankfully open and with a few tables waiting (half an hour later it was packed out.)


I ordered the Jett Dukkah Toast: tomato and avocado on toast with dukkah and olive oil. Look, I order this particular type of item all the time but when they have it on their menu especially, instead of me insisting on it being made up, it is always much better. They have the amounts just right, and their cafe-brand dukkah and olive oil are tremendously tasty. I’d wish for more toast, but the one piece you’re served is pretty chunky so I’m just being greedy. Chris was a little disappointed in his milkshake (not vanilla-y enough, he says), but was happy with his wedges, and Liz and Rory seemed pleased with their food too. But I did forget to ask, because I am self-absorbed and mine was delish.



The menu states no alterations on a few dishes but they’re generally pretty accommodating, and they’ve always been friendly; one time I ordered falafel and one ball fell as I was served up; that single escapee was replaced with three. The cafe was won awards for access: there’s a ramp into the place, and signage saying if you need any assistance with hearing or disability, just ask. There’s high chairs, a kids’ menu, and free wifi; they even sell clothes for young and old, and you can buy the dukkah and oil and so on as well. Also, if you’ve called your kid Jett, let them know and you get to join their club. Hopefully it involves free food.


Cafe Jett

197 Point Nepean Road


5987 1911



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safety beach

With the Rocket born in March, and the six weeks after that being a haze of pain and awesome and toast, we pretty much missed the pleasant weather and fell straight into cold. And I am sulky as hell in winter, because it’s not the season to go to the beach and splash around, which is my favourite pastime. When I was pregnant, aka a whale, I basically lived at the beach, floating in the water and attempting whale sounds to call to my brethren. So I was desperate to take the Rocket to the beach as well so we could all enjoy sand and sun and etc and etc, and with Thursday declared twenty-seven degrees, we headed to Teach’s dad’s place on the Mornington Peninsula to take her to the water.

Twenty-seven degrees, pah. Well, maybe it was later in the day, but once we’d packed her up, put her in her cute new little suit, fed her and left the house, it was midday and still around nineteen, overcast, and windy. We pushed on anyway, and headed to Safety Beach. Which wasn’t a great idea as it was high tide, meaning there was about fifty centimetres of sand, and the wind had made the waves choppy. (Teach’s dad had warned me that the wind was strong and the back beach would be better, but apparently I thought I was smarter than someone who lives on the beach and surfs every day. Turns out I’m not.)

So we sat in the sand, dug her a little moat, dipped her feet in, and sat her down staying mostly away from the (cold) water until a surprise tide washed over her legs. I expected her to shriek (I think I did) but instead she flinched a little, then carried on. She wasn’t smiling as such, but when she has a new fun experience she usually spends her first time with it staring with a furrowed brow as if she is learning the mechanics of things (of course I am not a delirious parent who insists their child is ADVANCED. Except, the Rocket obviously is.) We were there for maybe fifteen minutes until a bigger wave washed up on her and she started crying, so we then launched into the epic ordeal that is Changing A Baby In Your Car. Upshot is she peed on the car seat (MY car seat) and sand will be everywhere forever. Despite all this I deem the day a success, even though it is nothing like the experience I had imagined, where we sat on soft sand under a cloudless sky as the water lapped lazily around our feet, Recycled Air by Postal Service played, the baby didn’t eat sand and I didn’t need an Instagram filter to make the day look sunny. Oh well.

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