Campos

193 Missenden Road, Newtown
Monday - Friday, 7am to 4pm; Saturday, 8am to 5pm

*Sigh*
If only everyone could be as good as Campos. You're not, by the way. Do you consistently blow my mind? Do you actively worry about getting everything right for my approval? Do you provide a rich injection of adrenaline into my bloodstream (pre- and post-class, mind) whilst still providing the lightness of citrus-y undertones?

Mayhaps. But, more likely: no.
Campos in Newtown is the celebrity of coffee roasters in Sydney. Their increasing popularity does two of many things:
a/ renders them an untouchable-drop-all-your-other-gods-and/or-add-to-your-pantheon-now-deity-like status (that's usually reserved for lesser mortals), and
b/ means that average local café are starting to use their beans with their average barista skills are now pulling average shots +10. And that, by mine calculations, means that Sydney's coffee is improving by at least ~3.1415926%. On average.
In other words, there is a direct causal correlation between the existence of Campos and the increasing quality of coffee in this world.
In my world, at least.

The baristas are incredibly serious about what they are doing. The place is an espresso bar people...read: do not come here expecting a double mocha latte half-strength decaf with cream and red and purple sprinkles and a dusting of cinnamon sugar please". Because they will kick your sorry face out, back down the four stairs of entry, and into the grungy Newtown gutter. If you're lucky you will only fall onto a few used needles. No, treat them with the utmost respect they deserve and you will receive a hand-crafted shot almost every time. Each will be presented by a dude, often personally coming out from behind his machine, who glances at the expression on your face, after you've inspected, in an expectant and slightly crazed manner. Once set down on the high bar stools and tables they will most likely walk away, after an awkward silence and odd furtive glances (you don't like being watched whilst sipping the nectar of gods), and limp back to behind their tools of deliciousness clutching their burnt (steam wand) and crippled (tamp) hands.

Not really. Though, they are pretty distant and reserved. But, get a bad shot here and it's most likely your own fault.
This is constantly rated within the top three coffee joints in Sydney, and continues to charm local students, doctors, and the general kooks who abound who know how to live a good life. Even if you don't know what the hell you are talking about in the world of coffee, you will discern the noticeable difference of this paradise to all other hells on earth. It is, after all, what actual coffee is supposed to be.