“Australian Pubs is the result of a 25,000-mile pub crawl!” embarked upon by Melbourne columnist John Larkins and photographer Bruce Howard. Their journey began one warm Sunday afternoon at Silverton, near Broken Hill, and ended twelve months and many hangovers later at the new Wrest Point Casino in Hobart under the shadow of snow-capped Mount Wellington.
They drank in all kinds of pubs, from the little tin shanty in the outback, where the tumbleweed bounces past the ever-open door, to the dim cocktail bar in the city where lovers whisper. They found one pub built from bricks made by ants; another so violent that the licensee lives behind a barbed wire fence and hardly dares enter the bar without his German Shepherd dog; and yet another which is so lavish that it has Sidney Nolan originals in the foyer, a mirror from Mussolini’s palace, enough caviar on hand to feed a Cossack regiment, and rooms costing more than $100 a night.”
280 p. : ill. ; 26 cm. #190822
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