Coffee & bagels, letterpressed daily in a Melbourne laneway.

Once a printing press. Still runs on ink and coffee.

Tucked down a laneway you'd only find if someone told you, Manchester Press was once exactly what its name says — a working print shop. These days the presses are gone, but the room kept its bones: raw warehouse ceilings, oversized line drawings covering the walls, and furniture that looks collected rather than bought.

It's the kind of place where a solo flat white and a laptop feels just as right as a table of six running late for a Sunday bagel. Same eclectic, unbothered energy either way.