Coming Home to Brisbane
The “River City” is renewed with buzzy bars, cafes, luxe hotels and conversations and playlists spilling on to the sidewalks… And yet, the neighbourhoods have a quiet heart that make you feel as if you are home—even if you are just passing through, says Choy Teh, who left the city two decades ago for a career in modelling and television, but keeps returning to rediscover “home”.
By Choy Teh
The first thing that tells me I’m home isn’t the skyline or the river. It’s the smell of coffee— distinctly, the aroma of The Coffee Club. It’s by far your average coffee chain in Australia, akin to Starbucks elsewhere. But as I hit the arrivals hall of the Brisbane International Airport, there it is, that milky caffeinated scent that takes me straight back to my formative years… comforting like a warm hug. That’s when I know, I’m “home”.
Walk outside and the light hits differently too. The Brisbane sky is brighter, bluer, and almost cinematic. Our city has that kind of sunshine which makes everything look like a postcard, almost every month of the year. The “fresh air” hits different too. My regular nasal allergies disappear every time I step into this city, one of the quieter Aussie towns, where the city meets the river and the outdoors are never far away. As spring steals in, the jacarandas start to bloom; their purples vibrant against the clear blue sky. Wake up in the morning and you feel as if someone’s painted the horizon with a brush, overnight! Then there’s the scent of fresh hot buns from the local Brumby’s bakery. I’d stop for one on most days while walking to high school. There are also memories of bacon and cheese rolls grabbed from Woolworths (and slathered with butter when I got home), and of Ice Magic chocolate syrup freezing and eventually cracking over vanilla ice cream. Nothing glamorous, just simple rituals of a suburban life, the sights, smells and memories living on in my heart wherever I am in the world.
I left Brisbane in 2003, after university— to head back to Asia for a life of modelling and the television world. But Brisbane never left me. It has lived in my mind as ‘home’ with memories of its streets, friendships, part-time jobs at Big W and food: glorious Australian-style versions of ice-chocolate drinks piled high with thick whipped cream! Back then, Brisbane was a warm, albeit a little ‘sleepy’ town. It existed with a steady and familiar pace, the kind of city you live in for all its creature comforts and predictability, rather than a ‘show off’ city.
Over the years, however, as I have returned, something remarkable has happened. The city is still warm and reliable but it has reinvented itself. Brisbane is alive and vibrant, it has its idyllic charm but has found its stride too.
The Bridge and the buzz
I remember standing one evening at Howard Smith Wharves, looking up at the Story Bridge, twinkling with multi-coloured lights against the night sky. Restaurants buzzing, glasses clinking, music drifting out onto the river and a cacophony of laughter and conversations. People were lingering around mingling, instead of rushing home. The whole place felt so alive and vibrant. Like Brisbane had finally settled into ‘who’ it was meant to be. That confidence, if you ask me, shows up clearly in the hospitality scene, especially all things culinary and cocktails.
So these days, I plan trips home around restaurant reservations (well sometimes) because truly, food is the driver of my soul. At Marlowe, the Cod Wellington arrives golden and impossibly delicate. At Essa, the menu shifts with the seasons, produce treated with a kind of reverence that feels very Queensland and also Australian in essence; less fuss, more flavour. And at Stanley, I still think about the Singapore Chilli Moreton Bay bugs. How deliciously messy and unapologetically good it is. The kind of good that has you savouring your fingers like a popsicle stick after holding the gravy-covered claws. It also had me thinking, “wow this is really a homage to my other home in South-East Asia”; a balanced yet hefty mix of salty, sweet, spicy and sour. Brisbane cooks the way it lives: relaxed, multicultural, intentional, but with a quiet knowing that what they serve makes an impact deeper than a ripple of water on the surface.
Mornings start slowly. 6 am rises for early coffee in New Farm. A stroll through Paddington to take in their antique market located inside an old theatre built in 1929. I also love slipping into Milquetoast for a glass of wine, hidden away like a precious secret in a disused parking garage right in middle of the city. Or, stopping by BY.ARTISANS in the West End for one of their cocktails made from their in-house gin, infused with eucalyptus leaves, that has been engineered safe for consumption. Deliciously fresh and quintessentially Queensland.
Even the neighbourhoods I once knew as sleepy strips have grown into themselves with rooftop bars, good tacos, and late-night conversations spilling on to footpaths. It’s still unmistakably Brisbane, just with sharper edges and better playlists.
Luxe, but not over-polished
The same evolution shows up in the places you stay at. Luxury here doesn’t feel stiff or overly polished. It’s lifestyle-led, sun- kissed, and definitely a little playful. The breezy elegance of The Calile Hotel feels more art deco Miami than a typical city hotel, and has been on the global 50 Best Hotel List for a few years running. Emporium Hotel in South Bank catches the sunset perfectly from its rooftop infinity pool with unobliterated views of the Brisbane river and skyline. Hotel X in the Fortitude Valley leans moodier and more decadent with stylish Karl Lagerfeld in-room amenities, and is the kind of place you book for a slow and sexy weekend of urban explorations.
And then there’s the part I think people outside Queensland haven’t yet come to grips with, is how close the city is to nature. Within half an hour, the city blends seamlessly into rolling hinterlands, sunset views and glimpses of golden hued ocean vistas. Some days I’ll hop on a City Cat (our local Brisbane river ferry service) just to watch the river snake past 100 year- old mansions. Other days it’s a sunrise at
Mount Coot-tha Lookout, the skyline stretching out in hazy gold and pinks. Or a spontaneous drive into the Scenic Rim, where the air feels cooler and greener, and time slows with every winding road, farm gates, mountain lookouts, long- table lunches and the quiet hum of countryside life.
Out on North Stradbroke Island, the beaches feel endless, wild and local all at once, with white strips of sand and gorgeous turquoise waters. Also affectionately known as Straddie, this little island escape is also home to groups of whales birthing their young in the winter months, and a rich history of the Quandamooka people. ‘Straddie’s’ indigenous First Nations group. Australia’s renowned indigenous designer Delvene Cockatoo-Collins also calls this island home.
It’s this balance of city energy paired with an immediate escape that makes Brisbane different. Long dinners can turn into late night drinks, drinks into profound conversations, and you still wake for an early caffeine hit before the first light hits for a breezy hinterland trail hike.
Why Brisbane needs to be on your itinerary too These days, coming home carries a different kind of pride. Maybe it’s distance or maybe it’s age. Maybe it’s seeing the place through both memory and fresh eyes
But every trip back, I notice something new. A corner cafe brewing the latest matcha trend, a chef bringing new food revolutions to life, out of the box gallery exhibitions, or seeing a pocket of the city evolve with colour and vibrance. And yet the feeling underneath remains exactly the same. The sunshine. The ease. The way strangers still chat to you effortlessly while waiting in line for a coffee takeaway.
I still slip back into my Aussie accent unknowingly when I’m home (or with other Australians). I still crave rich ice long black coffees. Still feel that familiar warmth when the plane touches down.
It’s time we start treating Brisbane like a big city instead of a stopover. Why? Well, there’s a phenomenal food scene, design forward hotels, baristas as far as the eyes can see and sexy rooftops, yet at the same it doesn’t seem like it’s trying too hard. Yes, we have the vibrancy and spark, but one still feels like they’re living life instead of life living them. Maybe it helps that nature is always within reach, the river, mountains and sea are literally half an hour away. Or perhaps, it’s the all year-round sunshine that creates ‘sunnier’ people because we really do make time for others here. I clearly recall swapping roast chicken recipes with an aunty at the bus stop, core memory! Compared with Sydney or Melbourne, I’d say Brisbane has more room to breathe. There’s space, but also a kind of quiet heart to it, the sort that makes you feel at home even when you’re only passing through.
Somewhere between nostalgia and rediscovery, I’ve realised that coming home isn’t just about returning to a place, it’s about seeing it, finally, for what it’s always been becoming.
