Last drinks

Sunday 26 May 2024

Melbourne’s inner-west is blessed by an astonishing number of grand old pubs.
From Footscray to Williamstown, there are pubs in every neighbourhood:
standing tall at intersections;
or tucked away in quiet streets
like secret caves of warmth and peace.
Chief among them, The Prince Albert Hotel.

Shirley and I were married in that pub.
On the day of our wedding, in March 2010, Melbourne was hit by one of the worst storms in its history,
entire suburbs belted by hail and sheets of rain.
At the last moment, the ceremony was moved from the Williamstown Botanic Gardens
to a cluttered space within the pub.
Our guests arrived in a state of heightened excitement,
united instantaneously by their shared experience of the raging storm.
We crowded together in the dining lounge,
where Shirley and I took our vows
beneath the specials board.
I wrote about it, here.

Thereafter, the Prince Albert Hotel became a totem of sorts:
a sacred building in our everyday world;
a marriage-day memory made manifest and permanent.

Until now.
I learned yesterday that after a century of service,
The Prince Albert Hotel will close tonight, perhaps forever,
when ‘last drinks’ are called and the lights go out.
“Thanks for the memories,” said the pub on social media.
“Keep an eye out, as the building will be coming up for sale in the near future.”
To whom? Another publican? Or to a property developer with a taste for demolition?

We had plans today, Shirley and I:
we’re ditching them and heading instead
to a place we call our own;
one final pint
and a prayer of sorts
that the pub we love goes on.