The Thousands

Not quite sure what to do with the cavernous space below his New Farm studio, Paul did what every man should. He built a door and inside that door he put a coffee machine. Not just any coffee machine. One of those levers only an old man named Gino would know how to wield. What else would he need for the hordes to come in? Definitely not a name. Or concrete opening hours. Don’t even think about a website.

Fret not. This aint one of those “If Paul’s home he’ll make you a coffee” type of places. Paul’s got some hired help in the form of Darwin, a (too?) chatty young barista who I dare you to start talking coffee with.

The perfect cup is all they’re about here, so unfortunately there’s nothing to report in regards to a food menu but there is jazz music. And art books. And antique furniture. Real antiques! Not the cafe cliche kerbside junk that was picked up at West End over the weekend.

Sounds boring, right? Well, good! Everyone needs a bit of a respite and the insulating exposed stonewalls make No Name just the place to read a book from 7am until whenever Paul kicks you out. My mum says it feels just like being back in the old country. She always says that, but basically it just means this place actually has some character and elegance about it.