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I ordered the lamb focaccia at the Cacao Cafe. It was appetising, especially on a cool autumn day with swirling wind, changing overcast and blue sky and with rain ever threatening to arrive. After driving from Rockdale to Newport, we were definitely hungry for a late lunch. The beach side resort was more quiet than I recalled, but then the last time I was there was on a summer's day. Now the cafes stood lonely and reminded me of a small village in New Zealand. I was tempted with the ice cream counter but decided against it. Sean and I went to feast our eyes on the open ocean, where the foam of white had cuddled like milk and were gradually building up surf board waves. I always like the misty shower hanging in the air at Newport Beach and it was there again, magical and fascinating. What a dessert!

We were aiming for the Kilimanjaro, not in Africa but in Sydney's Newtown. We were fortunate to find a parking space. I noticed that the Fitness First gym was next to the Food Works supermarket - how convenient. I rediscovered an elegant stationery and book shop that starts with the alphabet P. I definitely reaffirm that Burgerfuel has a more inviting set up than Burgerlicious. I remember my first exciting foray into Burgerlicious with Michael a few years back. Amazingly I can also confirm that the Newtown outlet of Burgerfuel looks exactly like the store in Parnell, Auckland. To kill time, we hung around the Dendy Cinema and had drinks - I chose Cinique's blackberry and blueberry smoothie. It was too early to get into the pub, but I thought Culato's was great. Did I get that spelling right, maybe not.

When we reached Kilimanjaro, we decided to go for simplicity. I yearned for cous cous, so choosing the lamb curry and cous cous was not a problem. Lamb again, you may ask. Hey, I am in Australia. Sean preferred a chicken casserole that had tomato flavours. We downed the meal with a rose petal flavoured drink. I really thought we were having Indian food, and I know there are Indians in Kenya. Idi Amin sacking the Indian population many years ago to Britain comes to mind. The ethnic Indian staff waiting on us wore African robes though. Then came a real tall African, looking all smooth glowing in skin and with a smiling face. To order, there were no printed menus and intending diners had to crowd around a dimly lit menu board on the wall. Apparently one could not book in advance, but just had to come at the right time to get a table immediately. Like we did.


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The cafe harks back to the seventies or eighties - and maybe earlier - what caught my eye were (above) freshly blended fruit and/or vegetable juices and (below) metal and plastic contraptions of the food trade.

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