Something Light

I Came for Breakfast, Stayed for the Chickens (and Almost Left with a Puppy)

By Shelley Banks

The first clue that something was a little different about the café I headed into for breakfast in Warwick was the chickens. Or at least, the not entirely natural chickens.

They were scattered around the place in a cheerful, slightly chaotic display—bright green, electric blue, bubblegum pink, and the occasional bold orange. At first glance, I wondered if I’d accidentally walked into some kind of modern art installation. It wasn’t though and the chickens, it turned out, were purely decorative. As was the goat casually hanging out in the back corner, minding its own business like this was all perfectly normal.

As I looked around, it became clear this wasn’t just a café. It was several things, all at once.

There was an old caravan painted a confident shade of pink, filled with an assortment of knick-knacks that seemed to range from “quirky gift” to “I’m not entirely sure what this is, but I think I want it.”

In the middle of the outdoor space sat a gingerbread-house-style shop, stocked with lollies, chocolates, chutneys, and sauces, because, why not?

Out the back? A clothing store catering to a noticeably more upmarket crowd than one might expect at a business located on the highway with road trains thundering by.

And up front, where you ordered your breakfast, there were homewares for sale. And puppies, gorgeous, adorable puppies. At this point, I stopped trying to categorise the place and just accepted that I was in it.

I did briefly wonder how this all came to be. Had these once been separate businesses that somehow merged over time? Or had someone, at some point, sat down and thought:

‘You know what people want with their breakfast? Chickens, chutney, couture, and a chance to adopt a puppy.’

I’d never seen anything like it but, somehow, it worked.

The food was delicious; the atmosphere was equal parts charming and chaotic. And the sheer randomness of it all kept me and my travelling companions entertained for well over an hour.

We wandered through gardens lined with narrow, winding paths that seemed designed to lead you from one delightful oddity to the next. We browsed, we laughed, we took photos, and—inevitably—we bought a few things we hadn’t planned on buying.

And yes, we patted the adorable puppies. Most impressively, we managed to leave without taking one home.

In the city, cafés tend to stick to a formula: good coffee, decent food, maybe a minimalist aesthetic and a plant or two if they’re feeling adventurous.

This place threw the formula out entirely and replaced it with chickens, a goat, a gingerbread shop, and puppies.

And honestly, breakfast has felt a little less exciting ever since.

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If you like my short stories I’ve published eleven books.