I opened my first cafe when I was 26. I had no business plan, no investors, and no idea how hard it was going to be. I just knew I wanted to make really good coffee in a town that deserved it.
Three Little Birds
Three Little Birds was the first one. Named after the Bob Marley song because that was the vibe I wanted - relaxed, welcoming, "every little thing is gonna be alright." I learned everything the hard way. How to manage staff. How to read a P&L. How to deal with a broken dishwasher at 6am on a Saturday when you've got 40 covers booked for brunch.
Three Little Birds taught me that a cafe is 20% coffee and 80% everything else. The coffee has to be good - that's non-negotiable. But the experience, the consistency, the team, the way someone feels when they walk through the door - that's what brings them back.
Bodhi Specialty Coffee
After Three Little Birds, I opened Bodhi. Different concept - specialty coffee meets secondhand bookstore. Smaller, more focused, more intentional. Five Senses beans, single origins, pour overs. The kind of place where you could sit for two hours with a long black and nobody would bother you.
Bodhi taught me about quality. About not trying to be everything to everyone. About finding the people who care about the same things you care about and building something for them. The bookstore was my wife's idea. Turns out, coffee people and book people are the same people.
I sold Bodhi to focus on what came next. It's since closed its doors, but the lessons I took from that place shaped everything about Finally Mine.
The gap
Between Bodhi and Finally Mine, I took some time. Travelled a bit. Drank coffee in Melbourne, Sydney, Adelaide. Worked the odd consulting gig. But mostly, I just thought about what I'd do differently if I built one more cafe. One more shot at getting it exactly right.
The thing I kept coming back to was the dual concept. Coffee by day, bar by night. Same space, different energy. I'd seen it work in Melbourne and I knew Traralgon was ready for it. This town has great cafes during the day but limited options in the evening - especially if you want something more intimate than a pub but less formal than a restaurant.
Finally Mine
I found the corner spot on Breed Street. Bi-fold windows on two sides. Natural light pouring in. The kind of space that changes with the time of day - bright and warm at 6am, moody and atmospheric at 8pm.
I built the fitout around that idea. Mottled green tiles. Light wood ceiling batons. Pothos vines trailing across the ceiling. A custom sage green Synesso MVP Hydra as the centrepiece. Five Senses Crompton Road in the hopper. Barrel tables that work for a flat white in the morning and a glass of Gippsland wine in the evening.
The name - Finally Mine - came from the feeling of building something that was exactly what I'd always wanted. Not a compromise. Not a stepping stone. The final version.
We open at 5:30am because Traralgon starts early. We close the coffee side at 3pm. Thursday to Saturday, we reopen at 5pm as a bar. Live music on Fridays. Wine and cheese on select Saturdays. Monthly cupping sessions where anyone can come and taste single origins with me.
What I've learned
Three cafes in the Latrobe Valley have taught me a few things:
- The coffee has to be excellent, but that's the minimum. It's the starting point, not the differentiator.
- Your team is everything. I hire for personality and train for skill. You can teach someone to texture milk. You can't teach them to genuinely care about the person standing in front of them.
- Regional towns are underestimated. People in Traralgon want the same quality as Melbourne. They just don't want the pretension that sometimes comes with it.
- A cafe should feel like a living room. Not a showroom. Not a museum. A place where people feel comfortable being themselves.
Finally Mine is the third attempt. And it feels like the one I was always building towards.
