Shut up about Barclay Perkins: I talk

Sunday, 24 August 2025

I talk

I rise at 8:20. Busy day today.

After brushing my teeth, I get on with writing up yesterday. Andrew gets up a bit after 9 AM and we troll downstairs for brekkie.

It's not a bad spread: bacon, scrambled egg, sausage. I have bacon and scrambled egg, Andrew bacon and baked beams. With a pudding of fruit for me. Being the healthy one.

In the forground, a plate with bacon and baked beans. In the background, a plate of scrambled egg and bacon. There are also two snmall glasses and two tea mugs.

“Now there’s a first.”

“What, Dad?”

“You eating breakfast.”

“Not funny and not true. I ate breakfast when we were in London last year.”

“That was well over a year ago.”

“You didn’t put a time limit on it.”

“OK, there’s a rarity. You eating breakfast.”

“That’s better.”

“Fucking pedant.”

There are quite a lot of Lions fans. Mostly in their 50s and 60s. Some with their wives. But also some younger chaps. From all over the UK and Ireland. At least, that’s what I’m getting from the accents.

Turns out the TV needed its power socket switching on. A kind lady from reception worked that out for us. I feel rather stupid. But that’s outweighed by my joy that the TV is working.

James Smith picks us up at 10 AM. And we head off to get the number 16 tram. Pausing only to pick up Myki cards. We get the 16 towards St. Kilda. Jumping off just before the Esplanade Hotel and try to get into the Fifth Province. But it isn't open yet.

The outside of the Prince of Wales Hotel, a white art deco building.

Instead, we go over the road to the Prince of Wales. A 1930s pub with a bright, modern interior, dominated by a long island bar counter that disappears into the far distance.

After a couple of beers, we jump back on the tram to go to The Local Taphouse, the venue of my talk. The tram stops right outside. Great for an oldie person like me.

We go upstairs and I have a glass of 1885 William Yunger XXX. Which is very nice. And one of the beers brewed for my talk about Mild. It’s always a thrill trying a Younger’s beer. I’ve spent so much time staring at their brewing records.

Upstairs in the Local Taphouse. On the left is a staircase leading upstairs. To the right of it, a wooden table and chairs, In the centre is a door, through which can be seen another roomwith more tables and chairs. On the right is a service table with cutlery and condiments

The full set is:

1914 Cairnes Mild Ale
1885 William Younger XXX Mild Ale
1899 Harvey's XXX Mild Ale
1870 Porter

They were all brewed by James at Stomping Ground. And all are in cask form. Dead impressive.

We tip downstairs at about 12:40 PM. Just before the doors open. I get a Cairnes Mild, which comes from a cask on the bar. And is rather pleasant. Pale and quite malty.

The downstairs bar counter of the Local Taphouse. With four barstools in front of it and a cask of beer, covered in a whites sheet, at the far end of the counter. The bar back is filled with bottles and glasses.

There’s not a bad turnout: about 35 punters. James joins me on stage and does some of the talking. Leaving me time to do some of the drinking. I can’t remember getting through as many of the beers accompanying a talk before.

The pace is leisurely. So much so, that we stop halfway for a Sunday roast. Which is definitely a first for me. I just have a Yorkshire pudding with gravy. It’s not that long since I had a fairly large breakfast. The Yorkshire pudding is dead good.

“Dad is very fussy about his Yorkshire puddings. He makes really good ones.” Andrew is very kind. Sometimes.

The audience eating their roast dinners in the Local Taphouse.

Andrew isn’t hungry and doesn’t eat anything. Now there’s a shock. He spends the interval chatting with a couple in the audience.

The talk goes very well. I get plenty of laughs. I usually gauge success by the number of laughs. And there are lots of questions. Which is another good sign.

I sell every book I have. Which is brilliant. I could have sold several more. Damn. I never bring the right number of books. Always either too few or too many.

James guides us to a nearby station to get the train to Marvel Stadium for St. Kilda vs Melbourne. We've missed the first half. Which is a shame. But rather half a game than none at all. We settle into our seats behind the one goal.

Inside Marvel Stadium. In the forground seated members of the crowd. Past them is the pitch with four goal posts and several playes. In the distance are the partially-filled stands.

Luckily the roof is closed. As, you guessed it, the rain is pounding down again.

You can drink a pint at your seat. Only problem is: it’s Carlton Draught.

“Andrew, do you want to finish my beer?”

“You hate it that much?”

“More than that. It’s undrinkable muck.”

“It’s not that bad. Better than Bavaria Pils.”

“Using that as a yardstick, every beer is OK.”

“I suppose so.”

“I don’t care as long as you drink it.”

“No problem, there.”

“I hate wasting beer. And I wouldn’t want to have to drink it myself.”

“I noticed.”

St. Kilda are miles behind and look certain to lose. Then, in the fourth quarter suddenly start scoring. Melbourne barely score a point. With a couple of minutes to go, St. Kilda tie the scores at 90. Before restarting, there's some sort of offence and St. Kilda gets a free kick. A mark is taken and the hooter goes. From the mark, a goal is scored and St. Kilda win 96 to 90. Dead exciting at the end.

46 points down at three-quarter time. Biggest comeback in history of the VFL and AFL, apparently.

I go to the bogs on the way out. My god. They’re the nicest I’ve ever seen in a stadium. Like in a posh hotel. Top stadium, this.

We walk to the tram through rainy Melbourne. And after we get off the tram, do some walking. Through the rain. Again. The rain has barely stopped since we arrived in Australia.

We’re headed for the Captain Melville. An old, bluestone coaching inn. I recognise it. Being just around the corner from the Ansett office where I worked. I drank there a couple of times.

Our pints being pulled in the Captain Melville. There's a T0bar with six beer taps, with a barman behind filling a glass.

It’s quite modern inside. With quite a lot of TVs showing rugby league. James and I have a Hawkers Hazy Pale. Andrew a Hawkers Lager. He does love his Lager. We have a couple of beers before moving on.

We walk. Through the rain, to Whisky and Alement, a malt whisky bar. Past the old swimming baths.

"I used to play squash in there with your Mum."

“Back in the before time?”

“Yes, long before you were born.”

The bar at Whisky and Alement. In the foreground is a bar maid. Behind her is a wall filled with bottles of whisky.

It’s rather small and intimate inside. I have an 8-year-old Lagavullin. It's lovely. I savour it, only taking tiny sips. I’m not a philistine.

“I love Lagavullin, but it’s got too expensive.” I say.

“You’re such a cheapskate, Dad.”

“Financially responsible is how I’d describe it.”

“Until it comes to buying books.”

“I told you not to mention that. Especially if your Mum’s around.”

We only stay for the one. As I’m getting hungry. What do I fancy? Something Asian. James suggests Shujinko, a nearby Japanese restaurant. That will do a treat. Japanese tapas. Exactly what I feel like eating.

Our food in Shujinko. Ther eare plates of edamame beans, prawn tempurs and fried chicken.

Andrew takes control, ordering gyozas, fried chicken and shrimp tempura. And warm sake. At least for me and James. Andrew is sticking to beer. As he mostly does. Unless there’s soju to steal from me.

After eating, we call it a night. Though we do drop by the late-night offie in the Exford Hotel for beer and bourbon.

The Prince of Wales Hotel
2 Acland St,
St Kilda VIC 3182.
http://theprince.com.au/

The Local Taphouse
184 Carlisle St,
St Kilda East VIC 3183.
http://www.thelocal.com.au/

Captain Melville
34 Franklin St,
Melbourne VIC 3000.
https://www.captainmelville.com.au/

Whisky and Alement
270 Russell St,
Melbourne VIC 3000'
http://www.whiskyandale.com.au/

Shujinko Russell
225 Russell St,
Melbourne VIC 3000.
http://shujinko.com.au/