One pretty warm evening we were strolling through Surfers Paradise and decided that we wanted a nightcap, beautifully decorated and at a place with a view. Namely, we wanted an elevated cocktail bar. The only place in Gold Coast which could satisfy such sophisticated aesthetic demands was Seventy7 Bar located 230 metres above sea level in the iconic Q1 building. It was a place with an entry fee, but it was worth it and were ready to pay for the experience. What we didn’t expect though was that a place with such magnificent views of night Gold Coast was closing at 7:30 pm. The girl who was selling tickets told us we would have whole 25 minutes to enjoy ourselves before we would be kicked out. My reaction? No way, Jose! Even if I didn’t mind paying the full price for a short stay, it was the very concept of imminent termination of our tenure at the bar that was incompatible with the expectation of relaxed pastime we were after.
In Sydney CBD I could go to at least 3 places which offered the comparable views accompanied by bar service. In Gold Coast, unfortunately, Q1 was the only such place I knew so we had to lower the bar (pun unintended.)
Close to our hotel there was another imposing skyscraper – Peppers Soul – which had a bar and a restaurant, but located on the first floor. If you look at their website you’ll see an elegant dining place with a gorgeous ocean view. They call it Seaduction. Sure enough, we were seaduced and decided that our search was over. Well, I should have known better than to trust advertisements. What we found when we came there was that the places with a view were intended exclusively for hungry customers, while we were merely thirsty. For the likes of us they had a lounge separated from the dining hall by a see-through curtain, which was not transparent enough to see anything but the vacant tables. Oh, there was one window – it led to a kitchen and we were entertained by a sight of working people – chefs. By the way, those guys deserve kudos because, even though they were busy with all the cooking and we were not their clients (our money went to the barman), they still found time to greet us and make us feel welcome.
Now that I’ve poured out all my frustration caused by the lack of sea vistas, I have to admit that in all other respects Seaduction was a rather neat place. We entered it through a tastefully decorated, bright hotel lobby and were seated in a lounge where each design element – lighting, leather chairs, unobtrusive patterns, and soft background music – pleased the senses and contributed to the laid-back cocktail bar ambiance. But as soon as we decided to forget the grudges and enjoy the place we were presented with a new challenge – a menu.
In bars I usually avoid known cocktails and try to discover something new and nice. As such discovery carries a risk of disappointment, a simple choice of a beverage turns into a detailed study of the ingredients, much brow-wrinkling and a tortured decision. At length I selected a concoction whose name seemed to suit the occasion perfectly – Surfers Sunset. It incorporated Absolut Citron Vodka, lychee liqueur, simple syrup and grapefruit juice. The cocktail was served in a tall glass and decorated with a lychee and orange peel. The peel felt cold and was not exuding the citrus aroma – it was probably made some time ago and stored in a fridge where it lost its flavour. Otherwise, it was a great fruity long drink with strong lychee taste, not too bitter, not too sweet – just right. And to give you an idea how fruity Surfers Sunset was, I can tell you that a sip of Mojito (which Olga ordered for herself) felt, in comparison, intensely savoury despite the prevalence of lime flavours in it.
There isn’t much more I can tell you about Seaduction, but it feels like this story is missing a conclusion, so I’ll have to pay a tax for such omission. You see, on Imgur there is a notion of “cat tax” – a picture of a cat at the end of an unrelated post as a sweetener for people who didn’t find anything interesting. I hadn’t noticed any kittens in the bar so the best I could manage was a horse tax – a photo of a decapitated equine which Olga asked me to take, so I presume it must be good.