48 Hours in Melbourne: Our Editor’s Very Well-Dressed City Break

In partnership with The Westin Melbourne, we map out a local editor’s ultimate 48 hours of art, shopping, dining and theatre along Collins Street and beyond, with slow mornings, restorative swims and exceptional hotel comforts making the pauses every bit as enjoyable as the plans.

Melbourne has beautiful old buildings, serious fashion credentials and a bar scene that knows exactly how cold a Martini should be. I’ve lived here long enough to have favourite corners, preferred pastries and opinions about where to sit. Yet there’s something thrilling about a weekend in my own city, following the very itinerary I’d recommend to friends visiting from interstate.

The secret? An excellent address and permission to get distracted.

Enter The Westin Melbourne, a five-star Collins Street favourite with elegant, old-school hospitality. The Regent Theatre is next door, newly opened Town Hall Station nearby and Flinders Street Station a short walk away. Boutiques, galleries and laneways surround it, with the MCG and Melbourne Park within easy reach. Inside, a heated pool and Heavenly Bed make returning as appealing as going out.

Here’s how I’d spend 48 very well-dressed, wonderfully well-rested hours in Melbourne.

Friday: A Little Old-School Melbourne Glamour

4pm: Behind the Silver Doors

I know Collins Street in a hurry. Usually with a coffee in one hand, three things on my mind and somewhere else I should already be. Checking into The Westin Melbourne feels like a rather fabulous change of perspective.

Beyond the silver-framed doors, the Lobby Lounge is all deep armchairs and a sweeping staircase. Upstairs, plane trees frame the city views, while marble bathrooms, crisp linen and the hotel’s signature Heavenly Bed present a small problem: I have plans, and suddenly very little interest in keeping them.

A quick unpack becomes twenty minutes doing absolutely nothing. Bliss.

6pm: Dinner, Drama & No Taxi Required

There’s something lovely about the ceremony of dinner and a show. The outfit, the anticipation, the pre-theatre drink. Less so the logistics.

Tonight, everything is on my doorstep.

First, a Frangelico-spiked Espresso Martini in the Lobby Lounge, preferably from the depths of one of those plush armchairs. Then Allegro Restaurant, where a terrace overlooks Collins Street’s leafy canopy. Executive Chef Apoorva Kunte draws on his Indian heritage for a modern Australian menu, including torched Spencer Gulf kingfish with ginger-spiced coconut yoghurt and kokum granita. For theatregoers, the $60 Sunset Menu includes bread, a main, side and wine.

Next door, the Regent Theatre’s 1929 splendour awaits. Gilded interiors, ornate detailing, the whole glorious production. Finally, an excuse to wear those shoes I spent far too much on. And when the curtain falls? No taxi, no calculating the journey home. Just steps back to The Westin Melbourne. That Heavenly Bed and I have unfinished business.

Saturday: Beautiful Things & Very Cold Martinis

8am: The Art of Doing Very Little

Saturday’s plan: coffee, art and shops I’ve promised myself I’ll only browse. First, an alarm-free morning in a bed I’d very happily take home, before I pull on a robe and head for The Westin Melbourne’s heated 20-metre pool. A few lengths lead to the sauna’s dry warmth, followed by an indulgent spell in the steam room.

Back upstairs, breakfast arrives in my room. Outside, Collins Street’s plane trees are looking suspiciously Parisian in the morning light. I contemplate another coffee, still in my robe. The shops will still be there when I put on trousers.

11am: Just Browsing, Allegedly

When I finally leave the hotel, I head to Curtin House, where archival fashion at Reina and art books at Metropolis keep me occupied. At QV, July’s hand-painted ceiling frescoes have me contemplating a European holiday. And possibly new luggage.

MECCA Bourke Street is next, ostensibly to admire its restored tiles and grand arches. The beauty counters have other ideas. At SIX SIX on Little Collins Street, owning several perfectly good pairs of sunglasses seems irrelevant once Jacquemus and Thierry Lasry enter the conversation.

Another coffee calls. Down Presgrave Place, TRBL. is a tiny Korean cafe serving vanilla bean lattes and salt bread. Then back to The Westin Melbourne to drop my purchases and steal ten minutes upstairs. I did promise I’d only browse. Bygones.

1.30pm: A Date with Australian Art

My credit card gets a rest at The Ian Potter Centre: NGV Australia, where entry is free. I follow whatever catches my eye into Wurrdha Marra, where the Bark Salon brings together more than 150 extraordinary bark paintings. I find myself moving closer to study the colours and intricate patterns.

3pm: A Very Civilised Intermission

By three, I’d like to sit somewhere beautiful and have things brought to me. At The Westin Melbourne, the city’s most iconic high tea is served beneath the magnificent staircase in the ground-floor Lobby Lounge. Native High Tea runs until 29 November; FestiviTea takes over on 30 November. I’m settling in for delicate savouries, sweet little things, proper tea and, twist my arm, perhaps bubbles.

I’ve never understood why an afternoon spent doing very little feels so much more respectable when tea is involved. I’m not about to question it. Upstairs, the dinner outfit I’ve been saving isn’t going to wear itself.

6pm: Make Mine a Martini

By six, one decision remains: where to have my Martini? There’s Apollo Inn on Flinders Lane, where a velvet curtain opens onto dark timber and candlelight. I’m ordering the Gibson. Ice-cold, savoury, impeccable.

Or Cathedral Coffee in the Nicholas Building’s beautiful Cathedral Arcade, where the Tiny-tini arrives with an olive almost as big as the drink itself. I have an unreasonable weakness for things served in miniature. Especially when there’s an olive involved.

I love them both, so it’ll come down to which way I turn. Just one, though. Dinner awaits.

7.30pm: Dinner, the Melbourne Way

I want dinner with a little noise around it. At Kafeneion, upstairs in the old Melbourne Supper Club, white tablecloths set the scene for animated conversation and Greek food passed around the table. We start with Merimbula oysters, followed by taramasalata whipped to an almost cloud-like consistency, house bread and beautiful sardines. By the time the orange filo cake arrives, I’m already full. I find room anyway.

Back at The Westin Melbourne, my heels come off before I’ve closed the door. A hot shower, fresh pyjamas… Melbourne can stay out as late as it likes.

Sunday: Not Quite Ready to Leave

8am: One Last Slow Morning

Sunday begins on a treadmill in The Westin Melbourne’s 24-hour fitness studio, followed by a long shower and coffee by the window. Outside, trams slip beneath Collins Street’s plane trees.

My suitcase is open. My enthusiasm for packing is not. I’m taking checkout surprisingly personally.

10am: The Long Way Home

I leave my bag with the concierge and head out for one last wander. At Bloomwood on Exhibition Street, I pick up coffee and a miso banoffee pastry, then make for Treasury Gardens, where old elms cast long shadows across the paths. A few dog walkers, shafts of morning sunlight and the rustle of leaves overhead.

Following Collins Street towards the hotel, I make one last detour into The Block Arcade, where intricate mosaic floors lead beneath the soaring glass canopy. I’ve walked through here countless times, but the polished timber shopfronts and ornate plasterwork still have me looking up.

Back through The Westin Melbourne’s silver-framed doors, I collect my bag and reluctantly prepare to leave. The keys to my actual home are in my purse somewhere. I’m in no particular hurry to find them.

A whole city to explore. A five-star address you’ll have trouble leaving. Book your Melbourne weekend at The Westin Melbourne.