The Best Places in Australia

Dark wood, mismatched velvet, and leather sofas in a muted-light room that invites you to arrive early and leave late. Black Pearl is a cocktail bar on Brunswick Street that most drinks people treat as the main reason to come to Fitzroy at all. The list is short and inventive, boutique beers cover the non-cocktail moods, and bar food handles the rest. Difford's Guide rates it five stars, which tells you where the serious drinkers end up.

A mezcal cocktail bar wedged into a Council Place garage so small it might have previously housed a single hatchback. Cantina OK is the opposite of Sydney's big-shoulder waterfront bars, the ones that eye your footwear suspiciously. Sandals, cowboy hats, and ball gowns all get waved through here, and the agave list runs deep enough that you'll stop pretending you know what you want and just ask.

The Art Deco fixtures cast a warm amber glow over off-white walls and chestnut wood, and the whole room reads like a 1950s New York neighbourhood joint that somehow landed in Carlton. Capitano is an Italian bar where the drinks are the point, though the pasta and pizza pull their weight too. Difford's Guide gives it five stars, which for a corner spot dressed this modestly is a mild plot twist.

The wood-fired oven greets you at the door, which sets the tone for this Italian restaurant in Moonee Ponds where the menu runs from pizza through pasta to proper secondi. The kitchen leans on imported Italian staples and takes the full spread seriously, pizza and antipasti alongside handmade pasta. It ranked 29th on the 50 Top Pizza Asia-Pacific list. A children's menu and genuine attention to dietary needs make it one of the more relaxed neighbourhood options around.

Buffalo mozzarella flown in from Battipaglia sits on the menu at this casual pizzeria off the Princess Highway in Tempe, a detail that tells you exactly how seriously the team takes sourcing. The dough skips the classic Neapolitan puff in favor of something from the Cilento coast, a little crisper and more compact. Fresh pasta and a short cheese selection round things out, and the room runs warm in the way that makes you linger longer than planned.

A sourdough pizza shop in a coastal Perth suburb, where the dough follows Neapolitan tradition using flour shipped from Italy and gets a long, slow fermentation that shows in the chew. The menu stretches beyond pizza to appetizers, pasta, and salads, and the dessert and coffee selection is taken seriously. Ranked on the 50 Top Pizza Asia-Pacific list, it draws a lively crowd that seems genuinely at ease with the staff.

The four-bedroom Beach House here puts you close enough to the Indian Ocean that "minimalist décor" starts to feel like a practical choice rather than an aesthetic one. A resort in Yallingup on the southwest coast, it sits inside the Margaret River wine region with clean, modern architecture that holds its own against the scenery. All accommodations, from one-bedroom apartments up, come with full kitchens, so you can actually cook between cellar doors.

Frozen margaritas for ten dollars in the Surry Hills sun is a strong opening argument. Tio's Cerveceria is a Mexican-leaning bar in the neighborhood's easy-going pocket, with an outdoor setup that earns its keep on a warm afternoon. The mezcal list runs deep, the Michelada is built with enough red pepper to qualify as a wellness decision, and the whole place has the loose, no-fuss energy of somewhere that has quietly figured out exactly what it wants to be.

A grand old mansion on a private estate in the Southern Highlands, Ardour Milton Park is a country house hotel built around the idea that doing less is the point. Rooms lean into soft tones, natural timber, and big windows opening onto manicured gardens and a fountain. The restaurant works European dishes through local produce, and the bar's fireplace earns its keep in cooler months. Kangaroos occasionally appear on the nearby trails, which is not something most hotels can promise.

Safari tents on timber platforms above the Jervis Bay bush, each one with an open-air bathroom and a freestanding tub under the sky. This tented camp keeps things deliberately low-tech, which is the point. The Gunyah lodge doubles as a treetop dining room with a deck wrapped in eucalyptus and paperbark trees. Wi-Fi exists there, if you absolutely must, but the camp clearly regards that as a character flaw it's politely tolerating.

Six acres of country gardens slope down to Lake Daylesford, and the resort that grew from what was once a weekend restaurant has never quite shed that origin story. Studios, suites, and villas sit among the grounds, with a solar-heated infinity pool, hot tub, sauna, and spa rounding things out. Fine dining and local produce remain the throughline, four decades on.

Floor-to-ceiling glass walls face the Tasmanian coast, with a secluded beach at the bottom of the path and wetsuits in the cupboard if the water looks inviting. This is a self-catering modernist retreat, really a private three-bedroom house designed by local architect Craig Rosevear, sitting midway between Hobart and Launceston. The kitchen comes stocked with local provisions, and several good restaurants are a drive away. Selected by the Michelin Guide.

A giant stone fireplace anchors the main lodge while timber cabins fan out toward a beach so clear a pool would feel like an insult. This wilderness retreat on Tasmania's Freycinet Peninsula sits at the end of a long, deliberate drive, and the lodge leans into that: understated interiors, private terraces aimed at the bay, and tennis courts that most guests ignore in favor of just getting outside.

A hotel built into the Mitchelton Winery Estate on the Goulburn River, with rooms done in grey tones and warm timber that Australian studio Hecker Guthrie designed as a deliberate echo of the landscape outside. Balconies look over the river or the vines, the spa runs on plant-based treatments, and the outdoor infinity pool faces open country. The Muse Restaurant leans on local Goulburn Valley produce, though guests are welcome to skip the middleman and fish dinner straight from the river.

Sixty thousand acres of South Australian outback and six rooms to share it with, which is the kind of ratio that makes the Flinders Ranges feel genuinely yours. Arkaba Homestead is an all-inclusive safari-style stay inside a private wildlife sanctuary, with the old stone homestead doing its antique-meets-contemporary thing while the team handles the drives, the guided walks, the cooking, and the South Australian wine.

Tented bungalows perch at the edge of Kakadu National Park, where the Mary River floodplain stretches far enough that you stop looking for the fence. Bamurru Plains is a wilderness lodge in the safari mold, Australian chapter, trading the Big Five for saltwater crocs and magpie geese. Wildlife excursions are the whole point, but the central lodge and communal table, stocked with local cooking and serious Australian wine, make coming back inside feel less like a compromise.

Tented camps, the argument goes, are what eco-lodges become once someone decides comfort shouldn't be optional. Near Binalong Bay on Tasmania's northeast coast, Bay of Fires Bush Retreat offers beautifully fitted safari-style tents alongside a bunk house and a king room for those who prefer walls. The outdoor draw is serious, with surfing, diving, and mountain biking close at hand, and the chef-owner who runs dinner came out of the local restaurant world.

The cattle still outnumber the guests by a considerable margin at this working Northern Territory station turned remote outback stay. Stone-walled rooms replace the tents you'd expect from a place this far off the grid, and activities range from a pool dip to a helicopter sweep over the bush. The off-grid life here is less performance than plain fact, which is precisely what makes it feel different from a resort playing dress-up.

Seven hundred thousand acres of Kimberley wilderness, and the adults-only Homestead is tucked inside all of it. This all-inclusive resort does the thinking for you: guided hikes, boat cruises, and nature drives fill the days, while evenings gather everyone around a communal table for seasonal Australian cooking and local wine. Rooms have the big windows to match the scenery, and private terraces for when you'd rather not share the view.

A working cattle station the size of a small country sits behind this remote all-inclusive lodge, about 100 miles northwest of Cairns. Accommodation runs from safari tents to two-bedroom pavilions, and the property is small enough that it never feels like a resort. Helicopter tours, river fishing, and sunset cocktails fill the days, and the night sky out here is the kind that makes you feel the universe has been withholding information.

A specialty coffee shop sitting on George Street in the Sydney CBD, where the rotating single-origin lineup changes with the seasons and the baristas treat espresso as a verb, not a noun. The room is sleek without being fussy, which suits the lunchtime office crowd well enough, but it also has the quiet patience of a place where nobody will rush you.

A converted warehouse painted almost entirely white, with the roastery sitting in plain view so nothing happens behind closed doors. This specialty coffee shop in Collingwood leans hard into light roasts and single origins, the kind of place where the coffee is the décor. It draws the pour-over crowd who treat their morning brew with the same seriousness other people reserve for wine, which is either admirable or a lot, depending on your Tuesday.

A specialty coffee shop from the Industry Beans roaster, tucked into the CBD on Little Collins. The room is clean and minimal in that way Melbourne cafes do well, with the coffee doing the talking instead. Beans are sourced globally and rotated, so the pour-over today probably isn't the pour-over next month. The kind of place where laptop workers and CBD regulars coexist without anyone making a fuss about it.

A custom espresso machine sits at the center of this light-filled, timber-accented specialty coffee shop on Little Lonsdale Street, doing the work a piece of art usually does. It's the CBD flagship for Padre Coffee, which means the beans rotating through are seasonal single origins alongside the house blends, and the baristas know the difference. The kind of place where a flat white on the run and a slow pour-over get the same careful attention.

Wood paneling, shelves of records, and specialty coffee by day shifting to natural wine and cocktails once the sun goes down: Good Measure on Lygon Street is the kind of cafe-bar hybrid Melbourne does better than anywhere. The espresso is serious, and the Mont Blanc, a chilled filter coffee floated with sweet cream, has the devoted following to prove it. Come back at night and the room barely changes, which is the whole point.

A specialty coffee shop where ordering feels less like grabbing a flat white and more like sitting a sommelier exam, except the sommelier is excited to explain everything. The minimalist bar on Victoria Street runs omakase-style tastings through rare microlots and competition-grade beans, with staff who can map a pour-over's origin and processing method from memory. Bring curiosity; a laptop feels slightly beside the point.

A specialty coffee shop tucked into King Street in the CBD, Skittle Lane keeps things spare and deliberate, the kind of minimalist fit-out that makes you notice the coffee instead of the furniture. The focus is on single-origin brews alongside pastries for when a flat white alone feels insufficient. Office workers on a tight clock and laptop regulars settling in for the afternoon tend to coexist without much friction.

A converted warehouse down a graffiti-tagged South Melbourne laneway, ST. ALi is a specialty coffee roaster and all-day café that has been part of Melbourne's coffee furniture long enough to have trained half the baristas in the city. The space runs loud and industrial, the roasting operation sits in plain sight, and the breakfast crowd tends to arrive with opinions about extraction. Come for the coffee; the food menu is serious enough to make that harder than it sounds.

Pastel pinks and baby blues in the middle of Melbourne's CBD, which is either a very confident design choice or a dare. This coffee shop on Exhibition Street leans hard into retro-resort kitsch while roasting its own beans with complete seriousness, running the range from espresso blends to single-origin pour-overs. The suits filing past the window make the whole setup funnier, which seems intentional.

Reclaimed timber and the smell of beans roasted in Abbotsford greet you at this specialty coffee shop tucked into a Flinders Lane building. Dukes runs a high-volume operation without the usual trade-off in care, moving a crowd of laptop workers and lunchtime regulars through espresso blends and single-origin filters at a pace that would make lesser cafes wobble. Ethical sourcing is taken seriously here, which in Melbourne is less a differentiator than a minimum requirement, but they do it well.

A roastery cafe in a Brunswick warehouse where the roaster is the decor, not a prop. Disciple keeps things stripped back: bare walls, good light, and baristas who treat a pour-over with the same attention other places reserve for tasting menus. Espresso and single-origin filter share the menu without any hierarchy, which is rarer than it should be. Pick up a bag to take home or just drink your coffee slowly, ideally without anyone making you feel guilty about it.

There are no seats, and that's the whole point. Patricia is a standing-room espresso bar tucked behind a Little Bourke Street address, checkered floors and neon keeping things just old-world enough while the counter runs on high-energy service. The rotating roster of Melbourne roasters changes, the pastries come from Lune, and nobody lingers longer than their coffee takes. Which, in this city, is a compliment.

The roasting happens on-site, so the warehouse on Macaulay Road smells the way a coffee bar should before you even open the door. This is a fast-moving espresso bar in Kensington where the house blends run bold and the single origins rotate. Bags of freshly roasted beans line the counter for the inevitable "just one more thing" moment on the way out.

Timber cladding and a near-silent room set the tone at this specialty coffee shop on Pelham Street, where the menu rotates single-origin filters the way a wine bar rotates bottles. The space reads more like a tasting room than a cafe, which is more or less the point. University foot traffic hums somewhere outside, but inside people tend to nurse their cups slowly, as though rushing would be rude.

A specialty coffee shop on Little Collins where the house-roasted beans do most of the talking and the room is quiet enough to let them. Clean lines, a short menu, and a pace that suits people who came for the pour-over rather than the scene. Third-wave in spirit but not in attitude, which puts it a notch above the average laptop bunker. Melbourne takes coffee seriously; this is what that looks like when no one is trying to impress you.

A working roastery first, café second, Criteria Coffee sits in a bright Port Melbourne warehouse where independent baristas come to learn the roasting side of the craft. The public-facing espresso bar is almost incidental to the operation, which makes the coffee feel more considered than performative. Craig Simon, a three-time Australian Barista Champion, runs the show, so the seasonal filter and espresso options are taken seriously by people who have trophies to prove it.

A working roastery and minimalist espresso bar sharing the same converted warehouse in North Melbourne, where the smell of fresh roasting hits you before the door does. The coffee program leans on direct-trade sourcing and rotating single-origins, with a 'Candyman' espresso blend that locals have ordered on autopilot for years. No food sprawl, no scene, just people who came specifically for the cup.

The espresso bar is a small counter at the front of what is mostly a working roastery, so the coffee comes with a faint background hum of production. Single origins rotate with the seasons, and the house blends are consistent enough that regulars order without looking up. Brunswick's specialty coffee scene is not short of options, which makes the stripped-back industrial room feel like a statement of intent rather than a design choice.

Dozens of wooden chairs hang from the ceiling, which is either art installation or fire hazard depending on your mood. This compact specialty coffee shop in the CBD is an outpost of the Seven Seeds roastery, so the espresso is serious and the pace is brisk. It's the kind of place where nobody lingers too long, yet somehow everyone feels like a regular.

A glass wall separates you from the roasting floor, so you can watch the hot-air roasters running while you drink what they just finished. This roastery cafe in a converted Collingwood brick warehouse pours consistent espresso blends alongside rotating single origins, and the sunlit courtyard fills fast on a good morning. The New Zealand brand has been around forever, but the Melbourne outpost feels like it belongs here completely.

A compact coffee shop on Little Collins Street that runs on the assumption that the people walking in have somewhere to be. This is the CBD outpost of Everyday Coffee, stripped down to a minimalist space built for fast, unfussy service. The batch brew moves quickly, the espresso blends are available to take home, and nobody lingers long enough to name the chairs.

The Little Bourke Street outpost of a Richmond roastery, this is a specialty coffee shop that strips everything back to the cup. The room is clean and minimal, which is less a design choice than a statement of intent: single-origin, seasonal beans get the counter space, not the furniture. Good for a pour-over between meetings, assuming you don't want anything on the menu to distract you from thinking about coffee.

A calm, minimalist specialty coffee shop tucked into Potts Point, where the design is spare enough that the coffee has nowhere to hide. Flat whites and pour-overs are the draw, pulled from carefully sourced beans that the team takes quietly seriously. The kind of place where people open a laptop and forget to leave, which is either a recommendation or a warning depending on your afternoon.

Black coffee only, full stop. Aunty Peg's is the roasting headquarters and tasting room for Proud Mary Coffee, tucked into a two-story Collingwood warehouse where the espresso bar doubles as a kind of classroom. Baristas walk you through pour-overs and microlots with the focused energy of sommeliers who've given up on casual drinkers. If you were planning to ask for oat milk, plan differently.

The roasting equipment isn't decorative here; this Brunswick East spot runs as a working roastery first, with a tasting bar tacked on for those who want to drink the results on the spot. Baristas at the counter are the kind who'll walk you through a seasonal single-origin without being asked. Batch brew, espresso, or a bag of freshly roasted beans to take home, the menu stays short because the focus doesn't wander.

A bright blue door on Drewery Lane marks this tiny specialty coffee shop, the kind of Melbourne laneway find that regulars prefer you not know about. The matcha lattes have their own following, the flat whites are carefully poured, and the sister pastry shop Bakemono Bakers sits just across the lane if willpower fails. Small enough that everyone inside seems to know something you don't.

A roastery-cafe in a converted warehouse on one of Brunswick's better streets, with the kind of concrete-and-timber interior that feels earned rather than decorated. The coffee program runs from house blends to rotating single-origin filters, so there's always a reason to ask what's on. Locals who know the neighborhood well tend to end up here, which is usually a decent sign.

The roasters share the floor with the cafe here, so the smell hits you before the door fully opens. Coffee Supreme's Abbotsford warehouse is a specialty coffee shop built around their own beans, with espresso blends alongside rotating single-origin filters. The red branding is hard to miss, the timber interior is easy to linger in, and the merch wall will test your self-control if you came in just for a flat white.

A converted warehouse on Westgarth Street where the roastery, coffee lab, and cafe all share the same bright, plant-filled floor, so you can watch the beans move from machine to cup while waiting for brunch. It's a full-production specialty coffee shop that takes itself seriously without making you feel underdressed. The seasonal food menu holds its own, and the cold brew options get inventive in the way only Melbourne can pull off without irony.

The pink-and-rouge facade with its pearlescent sign looks like it belongs to a different era, which is fitting because Sean's has been around forever under various names. A casual, artistically eclectic restaurant on Campbell Parade, it does inventive home-style cooking with warm hospitality and a wide-angle view of Bondi Beach that makes you forget whatever you ordered. The menu is the kind that feels approachable right up until you realize how good it is.

Around 40 types of chai brew in bubbling pots inside this tiny, caravan-like shop on Pennant Hills Road, and the cardamom-and-clove perfume hits you before you reach the door. The menu draws on the owner's Kenyan upbringing, where cooks pushed the spice levels harder than tradition usually allows. Many blends are named after people he knows, and each one is said to reflect its namesake's personality, which is either charming or a little terrifying depending on your namesake.

The sandwiches are named after family members at this snug North African cafe on Crown Street, which tells you most of what you need to know about the vibe. The menu wanders from Morocco to Algeria to Tunisia, with fried eggs jolted with cumin and tchouktchouka, a Tunisian cousin of shakshuka built on tomatoes and a 21-spice ras el hanout. A genuinely family-run room, warm enough that you feel the invitation.

Six types of papaya salad is already an argument, and Chat Thai's menu runs to around 200 dishes from there. This long-running Thai restaurant near Circular Quay sources holy basil and garlic from the family farm, which shows up in the larb, the curries, and the stir-fries in ways that supermarket herbs simply don't. The location draws Opera House crowds and ferry commuters alike, but the kitchen isn't coasting on the view.

The charcoal smoke rolling out toward Granville Station has been redirecting commuters for decades. This is a Lebanese charcoal chicken shop, the original location of a Sydney institution, and the garlic sauce has generated enough devotion to spawn interstate outposts and genuinely long queues. Chicken, chips, and that sauce are the move, though the hot chips roll has its own following. Simple, cash-friendly, and absolutely not somewhere you walk past without stopping.