I want to be a bar reviewer

Yesterday I went walking for a good 12 hours to, throughout and from the city. I'd like to sit here and show off by telling you that it was 12 hours non-stop walking without the use of public transport, but it wasn't. Nonetheless, I would not be surprised if I had clocked up enough pedometer mileage to walk from Melbourne, Victoria, Australia to Melbourne, Florida, USA. As a result of such a ridiculous decision in passing what would otherwise have been a boring Friday afternoon, I now have quite possibly the worst case of DOMS (muscle soreness) known to mankind. My manly pride compels me to suck it up and battle on, which is no doubt the reason why I made the even worse decision to walk through the city again today with Mum to go shopping. Of all the lower limb muscles that are royally screwed, it's the left hamstrings and left calves which are being a bitch. For all you physios that might read this, you'll understand why I wince everytime I try to fully extend my leg, or during the late swing phase or when I try to push off.

So what the hell was I doing anyway? Well the initial plan was to go into the city late afternoon to be Nick's wingman. But then I decided, why stay at home reading a book, when you can go into the city and do it there? And why not visit all those bars you've wanted to go to - albeit as a loner. Actually as I discovered, you'd be surprised at the large number of loners that drop into bars in the middle of the day for a drink. I just ended up being another one of them. Granted you can't really judge a bar until you've also taken into account the music and the crowd that go there at night. But eh, next time. All pictures are taken by me. And by "me" I mean I hawked them off other websites.

Workshop
If you ever one day think "geez, lets go have a drink and a bite at an old converted motorcycle garage", then go here. I would've missed the small garage door entrance if it weren't for Porter who was with me at the time for lunch. This place meets the Porter seal of approval, which means Joe Strummer and Billy Bragg would approve. A pity about there being only a pale ale on tap, but otherwise a pretty cool place indeed with a decent sandwich. Hell, they even made eggplant taste good. Summary: A testament to elbow grease and hard work.

Word
Walking off the wet street with dirty wet shoes made me feel half guilty for defiling the polished wooden floors. I'll definitely be coming to this classy mahogany place when winter comes by. Come in early to grab the seats around the fireplace and you'll be set for the rest of the evening. Candles on every table and comfy seats with equally comfy cushions make for a cosy watering hole that'd be sublime once outside temperatures dip below the tens. Summary: A perfect cold nighter.

Purple Emerald
Otherwise known as 'that bar we always pass when walking out of the usual parking lot but never go into'. Figured I should go see it one day. 'Tis alright. Reminds me of Spleen (where I had my birthday) with all the chilled out couches. But I'd much rather Spleen since it has a more homely feel to it, probably coz it's such a small place and the couches and seats are huddled together. Summary: When you can't be arsed walking far from the car for a drink.

Phoenix
This was the place all the Herald Sun journalists used to have their drinks so I half expected it to be like the newspaper - cheap, nasty and devoid of any sense of unbiased journalism. So you can imagine the irony upon walking into the place to see some dude reading The Age. I was quite impressed with the place, with its multi-level setup. I went to the downstairs bit where there was not a soul save for my book, and some classy empty couches. Summary: Elegant, yet casual drinking.

Madame Brussels
If any of you have visited Croft Institute you'd understand the legitimate fear for your life, firstly in walking down the darkest and narrowest lane in the CBD to get to the place, and secondly upon walking inside to see that you were essentially in your year 11 chemistry lab. Yes the place had a uniqueness, unrivalled by any other in the city, except for that ice bar which I haven't been to. Well now you can put this place down under the same heading. Forget that the namesake was a once infamous brothel owner. When the lift door opens to the third floor of the building the first thing that would probably hit you is the setting to Alice in Wonderland. I mean, what were they inserting into their veins when they decided to lay astro-turf inside this small room?? Ah well, it paid off. Go outside to the largeish balcony and you'll likely see two fat men in a small swimming pool. Yes, a swimming pool. And the barman will even walk by to serve you your drink as you sully the clearness of the water. Summary: Drinking in a fairy tale.

Double Happiness
I must admit this was a bit of a disappointment. Going by what I've read, seen and heard, I was expecting this Communist China themed bar to be full of wooden tables and stools, have walls plastered with pictures of Chairman how now brown Mao, and have old Chinese propoganda music in the background with lyrics that roughly translate to "China is growing! Destroy the blond-haired wide-eyes". What I got were two Aussie blokes serving me Beerlao in an otherwise standard bar that's only lightly themed and quite tiny. Summary: Still yet to find something communist that works.

6 Links
Probably the most futuristic looking bar I've been to, to date. Think dimly lit room with brightly coloured lights and seating that make saying "funky" totally acceptable once again. $4 spirits and cowboys during a 5-8pm happy hour!? If that's the future, I'm in! Summary: Dude, I drank with a jedi last night!Yeh, I need more friends.