A few months ago, Joel and I visited a small gin distillery, its car park walls enlivened by whimsical cartoons that caught the eye before one even reached the doorway. I took those photographs almost instinctively—quick reflexes, a moment of colour and charm preserved without a second thought—only to let them slip into the quiet darkness of my hard drive, forgotten until now.
In the time since that visit, life unfolded in its own peculiar symmetry. I was found to have hypothyroidism; Joel, soon after, was diagnosed with hyperthyroidism. It seems we are friends bound not only by shared history but by parallel passages through unexpected chapters of health—an odd, intimate echo of each other’s burdens.
The distillery itself stood as a testament to the gentle renaissance of the gin industry on the Mornington Peninsula, particularly around Sorrento. What began as a modest coastal curiosity has grown into a craft movement rooted in the region’s crisp maritime air, its wild botanicals, and the quiet patience of makers who treat distillation as both science and art. Sorrento’s small-batch producers draw inspiration from the Peninsula’s salt-breeze gardens, native herbs, and citrus groves, capturing the landscape in each aromatic bottle. Their gins speak of limestone cliffs, shifting tides, and the bright, wind-swept mornings of the coast.
Remembering that day now—the murals, the subtle hum of copper stills, the clean bite of botanicals on the palate—feels like returning to a place where craft, companionship, and circumstance briefly converged. In those moments, before diagnoses and the weight of the months that followed, the world tasted simple, fragrant, and clear.
Sony A7RV
FE 20-70mm f4 G
Linking Mural Monday
