Well, folks — the time has come for me to ride off into the sunset. Fitting, really, since this column was for The Westsider — and what’s more western than a vanishing silhouette, backlit by smog and nostalgia?
It’s been a wild ride, trawling through the peeling paint and forgotten corners of the western suburbs, chasing ghost signs like a caffeinated archaeologist with a camera and mild heatstroke. But every trip has to end somewhere, and mine winds down in the back laneways of Yarraville, where a final message waits on the bricks like a secret from a previous life.
‘Better Tea — Robur.’ That’s it. A few fading letters. A relic of Melbourne’s long-lost tea empire.
Robur Tea has haunted me for years. Born in Melbourne in 1891 and sold exclusively by the importers Hawthorn, Rhodes & Co., Robur roared its name across rooftops, shopfronts, train stations, milk bars, and brick buildings throughout Victoria and beyond.
In 1900, Robur was absorbed by James Service & Co., who launched the marketing into the stratosphere. Robur wasn’t just caffeinating the overworked and underpaid, it began hawking a silver-plated ‘perfect teapot’ that every housewife from Williamstown to Warrnambool either owned or envied. They weren’t just selling tea; they were peddling a jittery vision of domestic bliss.
But eventually, the Robur cup ran dry. Tetley bought them out in the 1970s, and the brand disappeared like steam from a kettle, leaving behind only whispers on the wall. One more ghost in the laneways.
So that’s it, Westsiders. Thanks for tagging along. Keep your eyes up, your camera ready, and your caffeine strong.
Adios.
