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A land of milk and honey: Fairfield Boathouse, on the banks of the murky Yarra

There’s something very beautiful about this ‘rural’ oasis in a rapidly expanding urban jungle. It’s as if a patch of Melbourne was frozen in time, allowing children to run free in the innocent days when kids could really be kids, before the words ‘Twitter’ and ‘tween’ could ever be found in the Macquarie Dictionary. Fairfield Boathouse plays upon this old-school aesthetic well, advertising its classic array of Australian foodie favourites with a splash of sepia. I found myself craving Devonshire tea and a raspberry spider quicker than you could say ‘bonza’.

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