Not being able to travel afar recently has created a great opportunity to explore places closer to home. Between the two Sydney lockdowns I visited places I had never been to- the Vietnamese hubs of Cabramatta for delicious Phở and Canley Vale for Bo Bun. But there are so many other places that are really not that far from central Sydney that can scratch that travel itch without getting on a plane.
So today I head to multicultural Auburn to meet my cousin. Together we scour the Middle Eastern supermarkets, get high on Turkish coffee, check out the gold jewellery shops and wolf down a serious, hearty kebab. We allow ourselves to be guided by the friendly Turkish Australian locals with their thick accents, heavy makeup and sparkly eyes that make us feel like we have just arrived in Istanbul.
As I change trains at Strathfield, I step into the carriage and see an older lady in a purple hijab anda pigeon flying around. I already feel transported. The pigeon makes an escape just before the doors close, the woman and I exchange a giggle and I check that my camera is ready to go, as it’s a mere ten minute trip to Auburn.
Traditionally, Auburn was a type of marketplace as well as a site for ceremonies and ritual battles. The Wangal and Wategoro clans are associated with the area that sits on the border between the countries of the Darug inland people and the Eora/Dharawal coastal people.
Today from Auburn station you can see a line of shops with signs in Chinese, English, Arabic and Turkish. We’re 16 kilometres west of Sydney and the population is very mixed, coming from Afghanistan, Turkey , Lebanon, China, Nepal as well as other countries.
I meet my cousin at the station exit, passing people munching on fresh kebab sandwiches on the go, and we both feel the travel buzz. Within five minutes we find ourselves in a Middle Eastern grocery store, gawking at the aisles stacked with olives, spices, herbs, grains, seeds and dates. I buy sesame seeds, cinnamon sticks and rose petals from Jordan that the owner says are great for the stomach and calming down the system, telling us that he gave some to cure his daughter’s stomach ache “just last night and she sleep like baby”…
We turn onto Auburn road and pass jewellery stores boasting gold, gold and more gold, busy with women in hijabs, then notice a restaurant called Sahan Street Food at number 39 that I had noted from my research on the train. We decide to case some other places and maybe come back for coffee or lunch. Outside on the corner I suddenly stop ‘something smells like Algeria!’ I’m not sure if it’s the strong coffee, the traffic, a perfume someone who has passed is wearing, a combination or something else but the sensation is strong. Then as we cross the street in front of several workmen sitting down for a break, my cousin pulls her scarf over her hair. It’s actually for the sun as she’s forgotten her hat, but it feels like we’re in a muslim country where you have a scarf that you’re not required to wear but is handy when you want to feel a little more anonymous in some places. I point it out and we laugh. It’s transporting.
We do a lap of the mall that my cousin says reminds her of Africa, with temporary stands of clothing in the middle and I agree, noticing ‘but less hectic and with cleaner floors’.
Then it’s time for coffee. We head back to Sahan Street Food which is quite empty as it’s only midday. I see only a normal coffee machine so ask if they make Turkish coffee and the waitress, with a full face of make up and a lovely smile says ‘yes we have that too!’ with a sparkle in her eyes. We slide into a comfortable brown leather booth. The temperature has risen about ten degrees since I left home so I peel off layers.
The coffee is, as expected, strong and sweet and as we sip and chat, the smells of fresh bread and spiced meats start permeating the air and our stomachs start to rumble. It’s tempting to just stay here. But we want to explore more and only have two hours. We ask the waitress where to buy a Turkish coffee pot and Turkish coffee. She walks us to the street corner and points us in the right direction.
Gima supermarket (31-35 Queen St, Auburn) is nice and cool with the air conditioning and we pass fridges full of yoghurts and cheeses and grab pastry sheets, fig jam and chilli paste (I’m looking for Tunisian harissa but can’t find any here). We gape at the succulent looking olives before being directed to the coffee section. Advice comes from the shop assistant as well as a friendly Turkish Australian shopper. There’s the Turkish coffee but they both prefer the Turkish style Australian Bushells coffee. I buy both and a copper coffee pot, called a cezve.
The shop assistant shows me a discounted charming little gold coloured coffee cup set (I later accidentally wash in hot water instead of wiping it down as it says on the box and it becomes silver but is still pretty). Best of all, she gives us a tip for a delicious local lunch.
It’s now very hot outside and we’re starving. We tread over to the other side of the tracks to a shop just opposite the station, Kebab house (77 Rawson St) that I would never have thought to stop at. It’s a typical kebab joint and full of Turkish clientele which we take as a good sign. As we check out the menu, a little old Turkish woman sees I have bought the two types of coffee- she too prefers the Australian Turkish style one but wants to check the price we bought it for. I think she wants to buy it from me, but my cousin explains she is making sure we didn’t get ripped off, as ‘tourists’, which is quite sweet. We grab a plastic table at the back and with the sounds of Turkish voices, sizzling meat and muted traffic around us, we tuck into a serious, hearty lamb kebab sandwiches with tasty, soft, fresh Turkish bread, tomato, salad and sauce.
I’ve only got 25 minutes before my train but it’s just enough time to whizz back to Gaziantep sweets we’ve spotted on the way. My cousin dashes off and we promise to do it again soon. Laden with shopping bags and a little stressed for time, I enjoy the cool air conditioning and sugary air and quickly choose some baklava and Turkish delight to take away.
I rush back to the station, wanting to stop to take a photo of the pretty white roses in the park and see the sandstone 1922 Auburn Soldiers Memorial that commemorates those who served in World War One and other wars. But there’s no time.
I miss Strathfield as I’m absorbed in looking at my photos and have too many bags to pick up to make a run for the doors. So I change trains, twice, eat a baklava (full of honey- succulent and delicious), wish I’d brought water with me, and try to pay attention to where I’m going while listening to a Turkish lesson on my language app, Pimsleur and practice saying affedersin (excuse me).
I’m still on a high from the coffee as I teach my tap class. Then, as I unpack my goodies (as if from an overseas trip) I realise I’ve forgotten the bread- there was an Afghan bakery I had wanted to visit.
But it’s OK, it’s just a good excuse to go back and try more Turkish and other delights.