melbourne nightlife through a cracked lens (or how i stopped worrying and learned to love the sticky floors)

look, i’ve shot baja california sunsets and tokyo crosswalks, but nothing prepares you for trying to get a crisp photo of a cocktail in a fitzroy dive bar at 2am. the humidity’s up, someone’s neon sign is flickering in that ‘seizure-inducing’ way, and your lens cap’s probably elsewhere. welcome to melbourne after dark. it’s not ‘vibrant’, it’s buzzing. it’s not ‘nestled’, it’s just… there, spilling onto the footpath.

first, the_numbers_you_swallow_with_your_espresso. average rent for a shoebox in the cbd or near the good bars? $650-$900 a week if you’re solo. sharing a flat with three other creatives who never wash dishes? $250. it’s a brutal math. job market for a photographer? feast or famine. you’re either shooting $200 weddings in the royal botanic gardens or doing a $50 ‘brand awareness’ shoot for a crypto startup in a collingwood warehouse. but at 11pm, none of that matters. the city flips a switch. its all about the zones.

*the safe map (more like a fuzzy vibe)

melbourne’s weirdly safe if you stick to the lit strips. cbd, particularly around bourke and swanston, is a 24-hour human river. fitzroy, Brunswick, and Carlton east have that ‘weirdly polite chaos’-people will step over you if you pass out on a footpath, but they’ll also ask if you’re okay. the real secret? the ‘DTFP’ (drunken tourist footpath) around flinders street station has its own ecosystem of security guards and clean-around-the-clock crews. just don’t wander down riversdale road in footscray alone at 3am looking for a kebab-story of my life, not a recommendation.

overheard gossip blockquotes

> ‘avoid the ‘rooftop bar’ on a sunday. it’s just lexus owners circle-jerking over avocado toast. you want the celtic club in north melb. $4 pots, no poseurs.’ - some guy named dave at the melbourne museum tram stop, 6:45pm.

> ‘the cocktail bar in the basement off degraves? yeah, it’s good. but they’ll give you the stink eye if you ask for a gin and tonic. it’s a ‘gin and something obscure from a barrel’ town now.’ - two influencers whispering at a williamstown pier fish and chip shop, friday.

my gear list (for the night, not the sunsets)

- a monopod (your arms get tired holding a camera above a crowd)
- lens cleaner (beer and condensation are your enemies)
- a crossbody bag (pickpockets love a tripping photographer)
- comfy shoes (you’ll walk from fitzroy to docklands chasing a ‘moment’)
- a portable charger (google maps is a liar in these laneways)

where the magic actually happens (my drunk advice)

forget the glossy guides. the best bars are the ones that feel like someone’s weirdly decorated garage. the Eureka hotel in Carlton is a time capsule from 1998, smells like stale beer and hope, and has a jukebox that only plays 70s rock. the pictionary hotel in abbotsford? it’s a gambling den masquerading as a pub, and the ‘secret’ back room is just a bunch of old blokes staring at TVs. pure magic.

if you want to see the city’s new-money anxiety, head to the cedar tavern rooftop. it’s all minimalist furniture and people talking about ‘offshore opportunities’. good for one cocktail, then leave. for the old guard, the melbourne hotel on william street is a late-night institution where the clientele average age is ‘ancient’ and the staff have been there since kylie minogue had hair like that.

weather & neighbor check

right now it’s that classic melbourne ‘four seasons in a Tram ride’ thing. started drizzling in southbank, now i’m in a fitzroy beer garden with a jumper and sunburn. it’s exhausting. sydney’s just a $50 train ride away if you need some aggressively cheerful sun and $18 cocktails. but why would you? geelong’s an hour down the road for a ‘what even is this?’ industrial port vibe. stick around.

some practical stuff they don’t tell you: the nightrider buses are great but finish early. a taxi from fitzroy to southbank will cost you more than your dinner. download ‘ptv’ app, but also just walk. the laneways are a maze, but a beautiful, sticky, pigeon-filled maze.

watch out for the ‘pop-up cocktail bar’ phenomenon. it’s usually some chef’s ‘passion project’ that’s open for two weeks in a shipping container. sometimes it’s genius (see: the grug*, wherever it’s hiding now), sometimes it’s $28 for gin and tonic in a literal bucket. check the local subreddit-r/melbourne has a weekly ‘where to drink’ thread that’s more real than any influencer’s story. r/melbourne nightlife thread

and for god’s sake, if you find a bar playing obscure 90s trip-hop and the bartender knows your name after one visit? don’t tell anyone. those are the real safe zones.

p.s. the ‘safety’ thing? melbourne’s covid years made nights weirder. some 24-hour spots vanished. some new ones popped up. just keep your wits, your mate’s number, and a loose $20 for a ‘taxi’ that’s actually just a dude in a commodore. it’s an adventure.

pixel hotel review for a weird sleep option if you miss the last tram.

yalping the bars - but take the 5-star reviews with a grain of salt, it’s usually the owner’s mum.

time out melbourne bars - for when you need to look like you know what you’re doing.

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