Step right up, ladies and gents, and raise a glass to one of Australia’s proudest social institutions—the humble pub! No other place tells the story of our changing ways quite like the local hotel. From the rough grog shanties of the gold rush days to today’s sleek city bars with their gleaming chrome fittings and cocktails that sound like something out of a Hollywood script, the Australian pub has seen it all.
In the beginning, our pubs were sturdy sandstone houses where the weary traveller could find a bed, a meal, and a bit of friendly company. Take, for instance, The Lord Nelson Hotel in The Rocks—Sydney’s oldest continuously licensed hotel. Built in 1836 by a chap named William Wells, from stone cut by convicts at the foot of Observatory Hill, it became a public house in 1842. Wells named it after Britain’s most celebrated sea hero, Lord Nelson, and, remarkably, the doors have been open ever since.
Of course, fashions change. In the 1930s, someone decided the pub’s glorious old sandstone should be hidden under tiles and concrete render (one can only imagine what they were thinking!). Thankfully, the present owners have restored the Lord Nelson to its former dignity—and even set up a small brewery within its walls, producing honest ales once again.
As the years rolled on, the mighty breweries began to take charge. Tooth & Co., that grand Sydney brewing empire, eventually came to own most of the city’s pubs, offering only their own brews to a thirsty public. Their biggest rival, Resch’s, was swallowed up in 1929, and by mid-century, Tooth’s ruled the roost.
Sydney's "most famous" pub depends on criteria, but the Fortune of War claims to be Sydney's Oldest Pub, while the Hero of Waterloo offers an authentic colonial atmosphere with a famous cellar and ghost tours. Other notable pubs include the historic Lord Nelson Brewery Hotel with on-site brewing and the Dove and Olive, recognized for its award-winning pub food and craft beer selection.
Then came the infamous Six O’Clock Swill—a law introduced in 1916 that forced public bars to close at six sharp. Imagine it! Hard-working fellows rushing in from the office or job site, desperate to down as many pints as possible before the barman rang the bell. “Last call!” would send a frenzy through the crowd. The bars were tiled, bare, and without seats—a man stood shoulder to shoulder, five deep, drinking as fast as he could.
One former publican, Geoffrey Scharer, recalls his father’s hotel at Rushcutters Bay during those heady days. “Twelve beer taps,” he says, “and they all poured the same thing—Resch’s Draught! My brother and I swept up the sawdust every night. Dad would toss a few two-bob pieces into the mess as payment. We’d pick through cigarette butts and worse, armed with our brooms and hose, until the bar shone again.”
The era was captured perfectly in the 1957 novel They’re a Weird Mob, in which an Italian newcomer tries to fathom our curious drinking customs. “Middy or schooner?” asks the barmaid. Poor Nino Culotta hasn’t a clue. Nor is he prepared for the rule that says every man must “shout” his round—refusing is the worst insult imaginable!
But as time marched on, the old-style pub began to vanish. Clubs, breath tests, and modern manners all took their toll. The tiled “bloodhouses” gave way to sports bars, bistros, and bright establishments with names like “gastro pubs.” These days, you’re as likely to find sushi or Thai curry as a meat pie and pickled egg behind the counter.
Still, the Australian pub remains the beating heart of our social life. The government now talks of freeing up small-bar licences, and some Sydneysiders are rediscovering the simple pleasure of a well-pulled pint in a friendly room. Perhaps the pub will once again become what it was always meant to be—a true public house, open to all, and full of good cheer.
So next time you wander past a corner hotel with its swinging sign and laughter spilling into the street, step inside. Raise your glass to the past, and to the proud, ever-changing spirit of the Australian pub.
One former publican, Geoffrey Scharer, recalls his father’s hotel at Rushcutters Bay during those heady days. “Twelve beer taps,” he says, “and they all poured the same thing—Resch’s Draught! My brother and I swept up the sawdust every night. Dad would toss a few two-bob pieces into the mess as payment. We’d pick through cigarette butts and worse, armed with our brooms and hose, until the bar shone again.”
The era was captured perfectly in the 1957 novel They’re a Weird Mob, in which an Italian newcomer tries to fathom our curious drinking customs. “Middy or schooner?” asks the barmaid. Poor Nino Culotta hasn’t a clue. Nor is he prepared for the rule that says every man must “shout” his round—refusing is the worst insult imaginable!
But as time marched on, the old-style pub began to vanish. Clubs, breath tests, and modern manners all took their toll. The tiled “bloodhouses” gave way to sports bars, bistros, and bright establishments with names like “gastro pubs.” These days, you’re as likely to find sushi or Thai curry as a meat pie and pickled egg behind the counter.
Still, the Australian pub remains the beating heart of our social life. The government now talks of freeing up small-bar licences, and some Sydneysiders are rediscovering the simple pleasure of a well-pulled pint in a friendly room. Perhaps the pub will once again become what it was always meant to be—a true public house, open to all, and full of good cheer.
So next time you wander past a corner hotel with its swinging sign and laughter spilling into the street, step inside. Raise your glass to the past, and to the proud, ever-changing spirit of the Australian pub.
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