Pubs

I haven’t had much luck with pubs. My favourite hotel, the Cosmopolitan, burnt down a number of years ago. Its shell still stands, boarded up, in the main street of Trentham (between Woodend and Daylesford). One of my plans for this trip is to drink a beer at every character-filled country pub I could find. It was to start at the Working Man’s club in Mildura – boasting the longest bar in the world. Marilyn and I took the opportunity whilst the boys were on a paddle-steamer cruise, to pay a visit. Turns out the bar had been removed 20 years ago in the transformation into a poker venue. Later we would find out that pieces of that famous bar had been cut up and sold off as souvenirs.

The Maiden Hotel in Menindee was the base for Burke & Wills as they stubbornly prepared to venture further north into the unknown, harsh desert country despite the height of summer rapidly approaching. That pub also burnt down many years ago, and its replacement, boasting a “Burke & Wills bar”, was so lacking in character that Marilyn and I walked in and then walked straight out again.

In my imagination, and most likely in reality, Broken Hill has been a harsh, dry mining settlement, with far more liquid being drunk at its many pubs than ever fell from the sky. Unfortunately our experience was quite different. Although the old pubs and other buildings in the main street retain their impressive character, most have been sold off to house retail and dining establishments. Even the famous “Broken Hill Musicians Club”, where Marilyn, her sister Dianne and I spent a memorable evening 24 years ago is now just another faceless pokies venue.

And, as if to compensate for the lack of a traditional “watering hole”, the rain fell steadily for a day and a night. We tested the boys’ patience by wandering through some of the many galleries before retreating to the Broken Earth Cafe, which sits atop the giant mullock heap that overshadows the town. After cooking dinner back at camp, we settled in for what will hopefully have been the wettest night of our trip. As I type, Marilyn is maintaining a vigil by the caravan park dryers, and our doona and sleeping bags are strung throughout the camp kitchen!

We did however find a bar to enjoy a drink in the fading light and waterlogged streets – the West Darling Hotel. We were the only patrons, and the barman stood glued to “The Price Is Right” as it blared from the TV in the corner while we downed our drinks. The road to Tibooburra – our next destination – is closed and so we are stuck here for now. The sun has come out ago and the wind is steadily drying our tents. Hopefully the rain will stay away and we’ll find a welcoming place to drink as we drive out to the Silverton Hotel.