Tuesday, April 19, 2022


I had another opportunity to get out of the city and go up to Healesville, one of those winsomely pretty little towns that dot the landscape within daytripping range of Melbourne and draw in cashed-up tourists like roadkill draws in blowflies.

Tony and Tonya went too, but they didn’t actually get out for a photo op, as the heavens opened soon after we arrived, and it rained, heavily, for the next few hours.

We wandered between cute little cafes and cute little shops. I bought some more records at one of the op shops, but once that was done, there wasn’t much else to do except get wetter.

In the evening, as the rain receded and the need for cocktails set in, I made my way to a local bar that the internet recommended – the Daddy Bar on Blyth Street. You’d think that when a local bar is called the Daddy Bar, the question of whether it’s a gay bar or not is self-evident. But… it’s just a neighborhood bar. The fact that it’s a straight bar called the Daddy Bar is just Melbourne being Melbourne. I mean, they were playing early 80s punk most of the time we were there, which is about as far from Mariah and Barbra as it’s possible to get.


 At least Tony and Tonya finally got some affirmation.


Post a Comment

<< Home