Bar Hopping in Melbourne, Mk II: failed again

Whether fluids of the non-alcoholic variety had been shared or indeed spilled in our booth, who was to say, but despite (or perhaps because of) the cries of “We know what you’re doing” when our blinds did come down, the comfort – and novelty of being able to hit a buzzer for waiter service – made deciding to leave tricky.

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Back Bar, Windsor

Elbowing Bruce and his assistant to one side, she grabbed the tongs and, well, it pains me to say this, but she, yep, she destroyed the fire with a couple of ill-judged thrusts.

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Bargain hunting with grannies

One hand stretching out in front like a gun turret hoping to grab the last two bags of apples for a dollar, the other pulling an overstuffed tartan trolley that’s guaranteed to send you careering out of their path if the overcoated low-slung ballast of their stocky bodies hasn’t already

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Bar hopping in Melbourne? Take a map

Nevertheless, undaunted by our friend’s backwater Kiwi skepticism, we set out to check out some of the CBD’s fabled back alley, underground and rooftop bars

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Winter comes early to St Kilda

In the toilets of almost every bar they visited throughout the night, there was a cacophony of sniffs and snorts. Some people were suffering so badly they had to lock themselves into cubicles to attend to their runny noses. A handful of girls were so desperate to find the nearest piece of tissue paper that they were forced to use the men’s toilets; in a handful of cases they even had to take their friends with them to make sure they were OK: Bruce was always relieved when they came out laughing.

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