Scruffy Murphy’s is not just home to cheap schnitzel and discount jugs of beer. On Wednesday nights it adds a touch of glamour as it hosts Drag Queen Karaoke.
“What is that thing?… And what’s that smell?” Anyone who’s spent enough time in North Bondi for the wind to change direction will have heard a visitor ask such questions.
If you’ve wasted money visiting Grauman’s Chinese Theatre in LA, it will sting you to find out you could have had the same thrill closer to home.
Chris Ryan was driving to Wollongong, expecting to see smog rising from steelworks, when instead he was struck by a tall, Oriental-style building rising above the landscape.
A French-born artist’s twenty year devotion to his work has turned a patch of graffiti into a Sydney landmark.
On a narrow street in Newtown a giant dog towers above the traffic. Passers-by double take at the massive sculpture. Cars slow down as they pass the trailer it sits on, and come to a stop as drivers stare.
A picture’s worth a thousand words. Enjoy a roughly-written 5000 word essay on 24-hours in Sydney.
Three of our islands exist only in name because they have been sold by mysterious debtors. We demand to know: Where are our islands? And who got the money?
Scruffy Murphy’s is more associated with glassings than gastronomy. As a serious foodie who eats at least three times a day, I’m a little nervous about what the chef will plate up.
Joseph has the Wednesday evening commuters bouncing to a reggae beat.