Back at the turn of the century (yes, we can now say that in conversation without it meaning ye olde times) I used to frequent a proto-hipster bar in my home town that used to serve jelly beans on the bar rather than peanuts. If we didn’t get there early enough, all the “good” jelly beans would be gone, and there would be nothing left bar the black ones. Where most people would be discouraged, one friend was in heaven. She loved the black jelly beans, and when they were all that was left, she was the happiest person in the room.

When it comes to Sydney property, Auburn is one of the black jelly beans.