Staying in country pubs (I knew the discipline would slip sooner or later)

Henceforth, this is no longer a blog about Abbotsford as I choose to define Abbotsford. It is about that and country pubs, in particular those with old fashioned accommodation still operational (endangered species). There is a Flickr group on the subject (a future project of mine) but precious little else. If you know any other than Jeparit’s Hindmarsh Hotel, Dimboola’s Victoria Hotel, and Queenscliff’s Royal Hotel where you might enthuse about staying, let me know. (I bought Country Pubs of Victoria at Grub St Bookshop yesterday before heading over to the John Wren exhibition at the Racing Museum in Federation Square, of which much more anon.)

I went to Beechworth today and took the Canondale for a spin on the rail trail, discovering in the process the Commercial Hotel, just shy of 150 years old, and apparently in good hands. It is pictured, 3 times (the fourth is a gorgeous house in Beechworth). The pub’s proprietor fellow told me that I wouldn’t find too many hotels in Victoria in as original a condition as this one, and I believed him. It is a beautiful place — Ned Kelly used to drink there — and you can get a smallish simple clean rennovated double room containing a washbasin and a new bed — nothing else — for $65 a night (3 nights for the price of two) or bed, breakfast and 2 course dinner and champagne for $85 a couple, a bloody good deal.

A trip to The Royston with Mr Nguyen

My mate from Hanoi, the future Chief Justice of Vietnam, and I trundled down to the Royston this evening. I once lived in the inner eastern suburbs and rode my bike to university over in Parkville. I thought I had been along every road in the big rectangle in between, but it seems not. The other day, I pedalled over from the ‘ford to Ma and Pa’s and took a radical route. You know, most of the many combinations are left right left right but this was on the extreme sides of the rectangle. It was straight, straight straight, right, straight, straight, straight, etc. And suddenly, I saw a sign “The Royston“, just after I saw the mountain goat symbol writ large on a roller door and realised that the Mountain Goat Brewery had finally yielded up its secret location to me. Continue reading “A trip to The Royston with Mr Nguyen”

Minh Phat

The Foodies Guide to Melbourne seems to have just come into a new 2007 edition. In expounding the theory that Melbourne is the food capital of Australia, one of its authors, Allan Campion, makes special mention of the refurbished Minh Phat, an Asian supermarket which has set up one vacant lot back from the corner of Nicholson and Victoria Sts in Abbotsford, in what was recently a truly dreadful furniture store of large proportion which I was surprised struggled on as long as it did. This is kind of the Ikea of Asian supermarkets, though I have not spent much time in there yet. Keep meaning to. I paid $3 for a plastic packet of coriander in Clifton Hill this morning and wished I had had the time to get a fresher bunch for 80c on Victoria St, its stock-making roots still attached. The rest of Campion’s article is worth a read, but this is what he says about Minh Phat:

Continue reading “Minh Phat”