By wes

Most mornings when I have free time I walk to St. Jude’s for a coffee or Wilsons when I am at the office. Nothing complicated, just a tall soy Cap. I don’t take my phone out much. I don’t rush. And I don’t take the same route every time. That’s sort of the point.

On the way, I pass a few properties I’ve sold. Some recently, others years ago. Some have new paint and a renovation skip out front. Others look untouched. A few have their curtains open and I catch a glimpse of a new life unfolding inside. You don’t forget these homes, not when you’ve been part of their handover. Each one holds a memory. A nervous first-time buyer. A family juggling school drop-offs and open homes. An owner who held on just long enough to time the market well.

I often bump into people I’ve worked with. Sometimes it’s a quick wave. Other times, it turns into a longer chat. Kids, markets, what’s happening on their street. The conversations are rarely about property at first. They’re about the things people do here. Where the best sourdough is this week. Which corner terrace just got a DA approval. Whether Baptist street is getting too busy or complain about when we get Crown street back.

But in those small exchanges, the market speaks.

When people feel settled, you notice it. They slow down. They talk about local schools and book clubs, not interest rates. When they’re thinking of selling, they ask questions in a different way. Less casual. More deliberate. “How’s the market?” isn’t just curiosity. It’s code for “Should I make a move?”

Walking Surry Hills for Redfern in the morning is like taking the suburb’s pulse. The new dog walkers say renters have moved in. The skip bins and delivery vans hint at renovations, upsizing, investment. The silence on some streets, where I used to hear construction, might mean developers are holding back. Even the mood in the café tells a story.

When the baristas are flat out, the area’s alive. When there’s space to sit anywhere, you start to wonder if something’s shifted.

Real estate here is woven into daily life. It’s not just auctions and inspections. It’s conversations over coffee. It’s watching a façade change, a new garden appear, or a For Lease sign disappear.

Surry Hills and Redfern never fully slows down. But the way people move through it changes. And if you know what to look for, the market shows its hand long before the headlines catch up.