Quandong Parlour18+
People

Our neighbours on Poynton Street

A restaurant does not stand alone, and ours depends on the shops around it. We walked the length of Poynton Street to ask our neighbours what they make of us.

Poynton Street is not a long street, and it is not a loud one. It runs a few blocks up from the water, past the newsagent and the chemist, and ends at the old grain office, where our lamps are lit every evening at five. Walking it takes ten minutes, or an hour if you stop to talk, as Liam Allen invariably does. The pavement is level and wide, there are two benches in the shade of the verandahs, and the water is visible from the corner.

Older couple dining beside a lively gaming room

The baker

Our flour comes from the baker's supplier, and our occasional emergencies come from the baker herself. When the oven failed on a Wednesday, three trays of rolls were carried up the street still warm. She says she is happy to help, provided she is allowed to eat in the front hall at least once a year.

The chemist

The chemist has been on Poynton Street longer than anyone can remember, and he keeps a spare umbrella at the counter for guests caught in the rain. Staff pick up plasters and lozenges there before the evening begins, and he occasionally sends customers along to ask about our Sunday roast.

The newsagent

The newsagent supplies the playing cards that we use for demonstrations, though never for the tables themselves. She also keeps a pile of our menus at the till, which she hands to visitors asking where to eat, together with a short and honest opinion of every dish. In return, a table is held every Friday for her husband and his friends.

What the street gives us

A street is a quiet agreement to look after one another. We keep the lamps lit so that the footpath is bright, we sweep the front step in the morning and we put out chairs for anyone who needs a rest. In return, the street tells visitors that the house at the end is worth the walk.