The Heart of Hip

The quite Street gives way to a deep red dungeon, deliciously scented by beer, peanuts and a reminder that non smoking laws are yet to be fully enforced in
Melbourne. The Union pub is a local’s local. This is a place where a seat at the bar is a privileged thrown to the alternative, reserved for chain smoking VB guzzling, artistic types with vocabularies larger than the extensive blackboard menu which covers the walls. Despite the feeling that you may not have been in Fitzroy long enough (since before it was very cool and not a yuppie magnet) to be accepted by the regulars, there are enough dark corners to settle into and inconspicuously observe the slightly muscular black clad bar maid at work, while tucking into a huge chicken palmer and pint of VB original. Despite having to move every time the next shot at the pool table requires your chair to be moved, after a ten dollar jug of draft this becomes all part of the experience.