We walk up to the Commonwealth Hotel also known as the Top Pub, as opposed to the Bottom Pub at the other end of the main street. It is 5:00pm and it’s Friday. The pub fills with locals who all look way too old to have just knocked off especially with their spreading waists and craggy faces. The cheery young bartender has a luxuriant mop of black hair that would have the patrons envious. The bar has suffered many cheap renovations no doubt performed by some of the old locals now breasting the bar. Under the counter, beer hoses coil like snakes around the dusty bar paraphernalia. The regulars are placing substantial bets on the bar for something called Stan’s Slab. As the bar fills we walk down the hill to our cute little caravan park and settle in for the night. There’s nothing quite like an interesting pub.