See ya Burleigh, thanks for the memories
BURLEIGH, as we know it, is disappearing. Oh, the bricks and mortar might remain in some form, but the things held dear are under siege or have gone altogether.
Remarkable, isn’t it, how the threatened demise of a tiny hole-in-the-wall coffee outlet should come to symbolise the unravelling of the social fabric of a seaside town? Or the break-up of what everyone thought was a successful union.
Make no mistake. The lineup outside Nook Espresso each day has as much to do with social interaction as it does with the quality of the brew.
Locals go there as a daily ritual. The chance of a coffee and conversation is the reward for running or walking several kilometres from home.
For others, some of them elderly or infirm, the chat is their only social interaction of the day.
“I’m not trying to take over Burleigh. I’m just trying to have a business and look after the customers we have. We enjoy our jobs. This is what we want to do,’’ Nook co-owner Marcus Wilkins said this week.
He and business partner Paola Pearse had already registered long ago just how important acknowledgment and a friendly chat were to not just the lonely but to everyone.
But until the bombshell dropped of no lease renewal on their closet-sized outlet, the enormity of what the daily ritual meant became clear. The response has been “overwhelming’’.
Marcus estimates regulars would be in the order of 300 to 400 a day. At times the line waiting to be served stretches almost the length of Burleigh Pavilion, which houses the small business.
“It’s about creating a space
where people can come and feel welcome, but to have all that taken away…,’’ he said.
Pavilion owner Ben May has told the Nook partners and their baristas the lease will not be renewed, meaning they have until June to finish up and maybe find a new home.
“All the staff are upset at the prospect of not seeing the people they now see every day,’’ Marcus said. “It’s the
culture we’ve built – remembering people, the names and coffee orders.
“Trying to explain to locals, that has been the hard part.
“It’s like breaking up with someone.’’
At the height of Covid lockdowns and restrictions, the rushed 10-minute trip to buy coffee and say hello had been the only bright spot of the day for most.
Word of the looming end has spread but Marcus remains at a loss how to break the news of imminent closure to at least one of his favourites – an elderly woman for whom, he knows, the daily ritual of walking past the familiar places and faces of Burleigh to talk to the coffee crew is a major part of her life.
Her story reminded me of Aunty Flo, a wonderful woman who lived to a fine old age in the heart of Burleigh and had her own daily routine of a swim each morning under the watchful eye of the lifesavers and lifeguards on duty.
We cling to the familiar and should cherish what we have. I certainly did six years ago when my wife died. A few days after that I had walked down to Burleigh, still shell-shocked, and had struggled to explain why I was only ordering the one cup that day.
“I remember,’’ Marcus said this week, which was a surprise given the tens of thousands of conversations he would have had since then.
“I felt so bad at the time for asking.’’
It came as further surprise to hear they had kept an eye out and watched as I’d emerged after so many years from the worst of the fog of grief, and the happiness they’d felt when I eventually turned up at the hole-in-the-wall with my new partner.
That sort of inclusion, in which the simple cup of coffee is more than a pecuniary transaction, is becoming rare nowadays.
The Nook crew are searching for an alternative location.
But it is not that simple. “We’re still trying to find an ideal set-up nearby,’’ he said.
Locals, already upset that the old Burleigh Arcade down the street has become a lifeless space awaiting development by an interstate developer, and incensed at reports of street brawls and bashings around town and of vandalism inflicted in the precious headland national park by drunks and arsonists, have been highly vocal in calls of support to save what many see as a Burleigh institution.
“They don’t want to see a local go down,’’ Marcus said.
No mate, we don’t.