Freelancers of Adelaide, fly-by visitors, coffee fanciers, succulent aficionados (let’s be honest – what cafes don’t have them sitting on tabletops these days) and anyone who likes food done well, this post is for you.

Gone are the days of freelance life being a solitary existence, hunched over a desk squashed in the spare bedroom or your kitchen table. You can now do that work from a cosy cafe, while simultaneously people watching, mainlining caffeine when you need it, absorbing cafe tunes and generally spending your day in a more lively, sociable atmosphere. I was thrilled to arrive back to Adelaide to find plenty of ideal coffice spaces that have popped up during my extended absence, coaxing freelancers from their secret hideaways, with apple laptops and oversized headphones, to join in the fun.

I’ve lovingly coffee-hopped my way around town to sample coffee, suss the vibe, road test key tapping and wifi connectivity, to curate and now bring you this list of your must-know, go-to coffee spots.

I’ll be upfront from the get-go and say that wifi in cafes around Adelaide is NOT a strong point. I’ve also personally found the free Adelaide-wide wifi to also be largely unreliable. So, at least for the mean time, securing yourself with a decent data package for personal hot-spotting your own private net connection is pretty much a non-negotiable. For the handful of cafes below who DO offer their own, fast wifi, you have my heart. Thank you.

So, in no particular order, here’s my pick of the crop!

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Here’s the ‘full story’ xx

It ends with the long haul on the Piccadilly line. Twenty-three stops, Heathrow-bound. Hands in lap, mind adrift and wild. At each point on the line, memories dance to life: that one time when; the hilarious morning of; the night when two worlds collided. Then, a stop you hadn’t yet ventured to. A missed adventure? Probably. Too bad; it’s too late. Onward the carriage hurtles.

A handful of commuters filter out at each stop, and return above ground to their ‘another’ London day. I have no another days remaining; the visa expiry in my passport is uncompromisingly stamped hard and definitive, dated today.

By the last few stops, all there is left are a few suitcase-clutching travellers facing the same fate. Destination: the sky. Fast-forward and here I am – navigating my way through the labyrinth of airport walls throbbing high with emotion – to the line up. Plane after plane transcends into the night sky; leaving a trail of flickering lights muffled through black sky. Then, nothing. The engine of my plane roars. Lift off.

And suddenly, I’m gone, too.

Just like that.

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