Coppersmith

After staying in the CBD for a few days, moving to the Coppersmith in South Melbourne feels like swapping the big city for the ‘burbs. During our Uber ride across town, we counted eleven boutique stores, a craft beer shop and a specialist pet wellness centre. It’s the kind of neighbourhood that appeals to hipsters and families, as famous for its farmers’ market as it is its endless dining options, artisanal coffee shops and trendy galleries. With architecture porn aplenty in the form of sprawling Victorian colonial-style properties with raised porches and fenced balconies, plus well-watered front lawns and palm trees lining the street, it’s definitely the sort of place you would aspire to live in.

A two-storey white building with al fresco dining tables and umbrellas out front, you’d be forgiven for thinking that Coppersmith was a pub, bar or restaurant, and not a hotel at all. But you’d be wrong. Walking inside, we were distracted by two things: the imposing wrap-around bar with its potion-like liquor bottles, and the prominence of copper. As its name suggests, the hotel has a magpie’s eye when it comes to the millennial’s preferred metal, with it making up the maitre d’s desk, bar shelves and lampshades. It could be the jetlag talking, but even the lighting *felt* copper. Woken from our décor-induced stupor by the receptionist, we were told that we could leave our bags and check-in officially at 2pm. If she wasn’t around, the receptionist told us, then any of the bar staff would be able to help us instead. So that’s what we did. 

Whenever we’re on holiday, Mr Smith likes to acclimatise by ‘walking’. Often, this ends up with one of us resorting to data roaming and Google Maps, but with so many shops to potter about in, a foodie market to explore, plus countless restaurants to have lunch in, we found we didn’t need to plan our route after all. Suddenly buying in to the local hippie aesthetic, I found myself returning to the hotel with crystal agate slices, a Full Moon bath soak, and candles by local brands Studio Alchimia and Gascoigne and King, not to mention a newly developed golden latte habit. Had we decided to venture further afield, the hotel does provide MYKI cards for the local trams, of which there are three that stop nearby. 

Arriving back to Coppersmith around 6pm, we were greeted by a very different scene: the bar was now buzzy and busy with well-heeled locals and tourists alike. As a FOMO sufferer, I insisted that we join the revelry as soon as possible, but ended up somewhat distracted by our new digs, particularly the white-tiled, Instagram-friendly bathroom, with its triple threat combo of Appelles toiletries, rainforest shower and fluffy white towels; and the inclusion of Netflix on the flat-screen TV (though I don’t think anyone should be allowed to watch Orange is the New Black on holiday). The very definition of space-efficient, the queen-sized room has made storage something of an art form, with the ironing board kept under the bed, breakfast-to-go stashed alongside the Nespresso coffee machine and tea-making facilities on a desk underneath the TV. Thinking how we could improve the space in our relatively cramped London abode, we took notes and headed back down for dinner.  

Australia’s second city prides itself on its considerable food options. We were pleased to discover that Coppersmith is no different. Living up to its appearance, its menu is full of pub-grub classics. Classics, that is, if your local served pan-seared duck breast, pork belly with sweet potato Parisienne or Wagyu chateaubriand fillets. We started our dinner with freshly shucked oysters but, being the kind of people who don’t usually order oysters, we were totally unprepared when it came to deciding whether we’d prefer natural or champagne granita, so we opted for one of each. Both slipped down easily, and we now have an oyster habit to match our golden latte addiction. Later, we were defeated by the lamb backstrap with aubergine and the scotch fillet…but not so conquered that we couldn’t at least make an attack on the truffle-mac-and-cheese side. Suffice to say, we were asleep as soon as our heads hit the pillow, dreaming of the next day’s breakfast. Spoiler (and cliché) alert: the avocado on toast totally lived up to expectations.