Nov 2019, Metung, Vic
In a past life we spent every free moment sailing and boating on the Gippsland Lakes. Which meant dashing from work on a Friday afternoon and driving 300kms to Metung hell bent on making it to the pub in time for last orders. Falling into the comfortable old wooden captain’s chairs with a basket of plump and sweet crumbed scallops and a bottle of red felt like home. Beyond the windows, the waters of Bancroft Bay inky black in the night.
On boating and busy summer days we’d sail into Bancroft Bay and as we rounded up into the wind to drop the sails we’d hear a disembodied voice float across the water from the pub’s public address system, a siren call of “Number 31 your meal is ready!”. That was all the incentive we needed to tie up to the Metung jetty and hurry in to order lunch.
Winding the clock many decades forward, a few weeks ago on a quiet Monday afternoon we found ourselves back at the old Metung Pub and I’d say she looks in better shape than we do. She might have had a facelift but she hasn’t lost any of that homely charm, the décor is nautical, the food is good and the view of Bancroft Bay with boats bobbing at their moorings is well, priceless. Sitting once more in the window we gazed out across Bancroft Bay and the four of us reminisced of old times and younger knees. But, oh what a shame that scallops were off the menu because, it was bloody Monday!



That view is priceless and sorry about the scallops
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Me too.
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🙏
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Scallops next time
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A good excuse to return I reckon.
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