One of the lovely things about the old digs in Sydney is that across the road there was a corner store; such a convenient thing to have within easy reach when you’re in need of an afternoon Coke Zero or a bag of chips. (I know, shocking habit, but OMG Yum, right?) The other lovely thing about that corner store was that it is an Asian grocery, so I had immediately to hand, wonderful things like fried tofu, tamarind paste (mmm, Pad Thai) and real authentic green curry paste.
Gosh, just talking about that store has me missing it already.
These new digs don’t have a corner store across the road. There’s a servo, so I can buy petrol and (at a pinch) overpriced milk etc. but by and large I’ll be doing my shopping at the Coles or Woolies down in Camberwell which is an easy walk or tram ride. Heck I might even get myself one of those nanna trolleys to get stuff home with. Because, if I’m honest, it isn’t so unusual for me to go and do my whole week’s shopping, forgetting I don’t have the car with me, and then find myself having to struggle getting home with more groceries than I can manage. [Adds nanna trolley to the mental shopping list].
The venue of interest across the road in these parts (which I believe is going to be rather a popular) is a watering hole, a drinking establishment, a pub of sorts.
This place is noteworthy more for its quaint charm than for the fact that it’s across the road from me. Truth is, it’s half bottleshop (bottle-o to the locals) and half ‘pub/winebar’. So you can pop in and pick up a six pack to take home and get completely sidetracked by the fact there’s a friendly face at the bar, a few tables dotted around and a lovely black replica (presumably) van der Rohe Barcelona sofa lining one wall.
There’s something uniquely Australian about the decor. The corrugated iron cladding on the wall is reminiscent of an old shearing shed, framed prints of patrons and some other slightly more arty prints almost lend an air of sophistication. There’s no pub grub here but you can bring in your burger and fries, or fish and chips from next door and scoff them down as you quaff your brew; heck you can even call Crust up the road and have them deliver you a pizza, (that’s ingenuity for you).
Finally, and most importantly there’s only one beer on tap, thankfully it’s Blue Tongue*, a nice inoffensive drop and a regular feature in my beer drinking repertoire.
Frankly, I can see a quick pot across the road at the end of the day could become a habit, it certainly is for at least two of my neighbours. But, best of all, when I walk in the door? If Brad’s behind the bar he will call out ‘Dee!’ as if I was a local already…
I’m ridiculously grateful that it’s not VB, this is Victoria, after all. Also, in an unrelated note, drinking Blue Tongue beer will not give you a blue tongue, to my mind this is false advertising… but, still, it tastes like quite nice beer, so, there’s that.
