From its dignified bluestone pavement to its antiquated nineteenth century buildings, Bank Pl is perhaps Melbourne’s most handsome laneway. In fact, it’s so impressive, so beautiful, that’d you be forgiven for thinking you’ve just rounded the corner into Europe.

There’s the lamp posts - standing in a neat row, forged from elegant iron and entwined with peeling gold laurels - the beautiful Charter House - its title engraved carefully above the majestic building’s entrance - and plenty of places to sit underneath whispering plane trees as you watch the business crowd pour in for after-work drinks.

Undoubtedly, Bank Pl’s most spectacular feature is its pub - the Mitre Tavern. Situated on Mitre La - one of Bank Pl’s many cul-de-sacs - it’s a tidy, double-story, English-style drinking hole that sits underneath the looming resplendence of Collins Street’s prominent buildings.

The date of its construction is unclear, though it was at least prior to 1850, apparently. Officially, the pub was coined ‘The Mitre Tavern’ in 1867, and has been serving beer and food ever since. According to its menu, it’s the oldest building in Melbourne - which makes drinking in the large beer garden a reflective affair, as one imagines what the pub has seen as Melbourne rose from the ground around it.

Up the lane, there’re some apartments (the residents of which have decorated the steel stairs appended with splashes of green plants), an underground bar called Marakech, and a decent café on the corner that’s worth it just for the chance to have a coffee in the lane outside.

For true Melbourne grandeur, nothing beats Bank Pl.

Reviewed: December 2008.

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Gone are the disjointed, eccentric facades that typify so many of Melbourne’s alleys - this is Equitable Pl: sleek, modern, and alluring.

Situated near the corner of Collins and Elizabeth, the laneway is sandwiched between two corporate monoliths. Its entrance has been refashioned to smother its incongruity, and, as such, you’d be forgiven for presuming this alley was now the foyer into the large headquarters that surround it.

Once you pass through the corridor - windows into Henry Bucks and other upscale stores - you’ll notice how much you feel you’re in the city. The Commonwealth Bank building looms ahead of you, you’re surrounded by coats and scarves - it’s as though you’re walking through the pipeline of Melbourne’s corporate machine. Equitable Pl is a laneway that means business.

The proliferation of functional alleys can’t really bad a bad thing, however, as business has paved the way (literally) for a laneway that does host some surprises.

There are a dozen shops - boutiques, eateries, and more - that cater to mixed clientele. Equitable Pl thrives on its lunch business, proving a tempting distraction to businessmen and women that descend from above Melbourne’s skyline. Cheap eats are surprisingly easy to come across, however, and the cuisine varied.

There’s Monster Burger - as advertised by the hapless costumed pamphlet-bearing employee on Elizabeth’s corner; and Spudbar - the healthy baked potato dispenser growing a good reputation.

As surrounded as you are by formalist aesthetics - Equitable Pl’s dignified lines are smooth but not extravagant - there’s comfort in that mismatched flight of fire escape stairs that climb the buildings above, and reassurance in the littered blind alley that your eye isn’t supposed to see. You can sanitize a Melbourne laneway all you like, but you can’t completely extinguish its charm.

Equitable Pl is, at its core, an enjoyable exercise in measured interference.

Reviewed: September 2008

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It’s unassuming, bedraggled, and the purest form of cul-de-sac. Carson Pl is one of Melbourne’s more barren alleys, and, to an extent, rightfully overlooked. But like most of Melbourne’s labyrinthine laneways, you can’t define them by their contents alone, and Carson Pl is more than the sum of its parts.

Situated just off Little Collins St, and surrounded by more luminary gallerias like Howey Pl, Carson Pl is relatively innocuous. There’re a few rubbish skips, a collection of colourful milk crates that double as chairs, and the usual assortment of pigeons and rats. The handful of shops that choose to make their home in Carson Pl are so discreetly hidden that almost don’t want to be found; only one, Donuts Deluxe, really bothers attract customers.

Ben, the co-proprietor, has recently opened the shop - a garage-sized roller door compartment that brings to mind those on Degraves - to satisfy the need of Melbourne’s burgeoning independent street-skate industry. His store, previously tenanted by a failed cufflink trader, doubles as a place of business and design studio, cobbled together with a relaxed philosophy of anti-exclusivity.

Next to him is an old barber, with whom Ben and the Donut boys have a good rapport; a loading bay; and the smallest of thoroughfares into the anomalous, commercial resplendence of Australia on Collins. A run of windows from an upscale clothes store play light against the wall as the city winds down, allowing Carson Pl the briefest of moment of romance before the shop closes for the night.

While the littered, graffiti-riddled degeneracy of Carson Pl is a daily reality, it’s as though Donuts Deluxe is leading its artistic revival; supposedly in its heyday the alley played host to several publications that lived above the lockers we see today.

Perhaps we can look forward to further artistic upswings as Melbourne’s laneway explosion rockets forth, but for now, at least, drop into Donuts Deluxe for a chat, or grab a haircut - but it remains a lane to watch.

Reviewed: July 2008

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From its offshoot byway Howey Place, Presgrave Place is little more than a hook shaped alley, littered with rubbish skips. It’s conspicuous in its very nature - if you don’t take the time to look, you won’t be rewarded.

Off the steely, handsome revere of Howey, Presgrave is like walking through the very border of Melbourne’s increasingly widespread social-cataclysm. Pigeons peck at your feet as you look to admire the unusual street art - photo frames that hang fragmentarily alongside the laneway’s left wall. According to local workers, they were affixed one night without any explanation.

Presgrave is all pallid greys splashed with colour; a speck of bright orange here, a slither of green there. An unusual staircase feels oddly fastened to the right wall, perhaps a consequence of an afterthought. It’s uncovered, dangerous and slippery, but has an innate slap-dash charm.

Presgrave’s major highlight is Pushka, a cafe/bar so small it can only be spotted by a few 50s-style deco steel chairs that, on winter days, reel against a cold breeze. Inside, Pushka is cramped yet comfortable. The friendly staff are always in the mood for a chat, and the music is neither too loud nor straight-laced. It’s the kind of place that thrives on its regulars - if you frequent the cafe enough you’ll begin to have your orders pre-empted with a wry, knowing smile. These guys enjoy their job.

Most importantly: their coffee is delicious. Pushka has pride in its cup-o-joe; you’re not getting a rushed on-the-clock franchisee with an eye on the handbook here.

The only setback is in procuring a table - with its floor space it’s not hard to see why - though half the fun is donning your coat and scarf and drinking a coffee outside.

The place turns into a cheery bar at night, where, if you’re lucky, you’ll witness a stream of underagers crying with protest as they’re helplessly ejected from the Hi-Fi Bar’s backdoor. Currently, their license extends to 11pm, though things are set to change with new (but understanding) management. It’s in safe hands - Jerome (of St. Jerome’s, Sister Bella fame) has charged himself with the task of improving Pushka without damaging its cutesy-cluttered spirit.

Presgrave is a welcome retreat from the city’s intoxicating hubbub. Within a stones throw of Swanston St - its energy driving and palpable - you’re in quiet sanctuary: the only reminder of the city’s pace is the occasional clutter of dishes in adjacent kitchens.

Reviewed: July 2008

Photo © Al Wilson, 2008

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