My name is Hayley Giemza and my family have a rich history with the City of Port Phillip. 

My family bought their first Hotel in 1986 in St Kilda. It was the St Kilda Inn which is located on the corner of Grey St and Barkly St. As a family we lived upstairs on top of the pub and every day we worked, breathed and lived it. I was 13 years old, my brother only 7yrs and we encountered a childhood rich in experiences. Growing up in St Kilda in the 80’s was controversial. Bojangles was still in operation which bought a lot of the underworld to the area. However, The St Kilda Inn was known as a second home for the New Zealand community and the culture inside the Pub varied from the streets. The pub was adorned with beautiful Māori carvings. The beer garden was always full of the community cooking traditional foods for one another, using the pub to teach traditional dance and perform cultural dance and the ever-exciting Haka! We sponsored the St Kilda Rugby League which created another element of connection. I remember my friends and their parents coming from Brighton, walking into the establishment initially intimidated and then welcomed by open arms once introduced to the local community. I remember being dropped home from a trip to Mt Buller by a school family and they asked if Mum and Dad were home. I replied “no, they are away however all the locals will look after me”. The staff were full time and took their positions whole heartedly. It taught me the values of a strong local community and what the original Public House was designed for.

In 1986 Liquor Licences were difficult to receive. It involved exams, Justice of the Peace, the Sergeant of St Kilda Police and proof that the Publican was an upstanding citizen, so a Publican took their role seriously. This in turn taught me the importance of the local pub, being pivotal for people to congregate, share opinions, show compassion to others and the Publican historically being a shoulder for the best and worst times for many.

Life of the Publican’s Daughter continued. In 1990 my family bought the New Market Hotel in Inkerman St, St Kilda which was the only early opener in the City of Port Phillip. The Council yards were across the road and every Wednesday afternoon the bar was full of big burly blokes swigging 7oz glasses, throwing their pay cheques over the bar because the Publican could cash it quicker than the banks. I have memories of all walks of life stepping into that front bar at 7am. Either still partying from the night before or needing a quick chin wag before the day begins. It was a working man’s pub with Marika in the kitchen providing the biggest chicken schnitzel with a capsicum and paprika sauce to soak up and cure remanence of the previous evening. Working the Pub was like no other vocation. It wasn’t 9-5, 40 hour weeks. It was a lifestyle, every day and every night open to everyone! I could write a book about those teenage years in St Kilda. Every day bought new experiences, new people, new stories which in turn taught me about the rich history of the area.

Life in Pubs continued with my family buying the Fountain Inn. The Fountain Inn was on the corner of Bay St and Crockford St, Port Melbourne and was known as the Fountain Inn due to the old watering fountain placed in front of the Pub for horses to draw water. Unfortunately, it no longer exists. The pub was quickly transformed into an Irish epicentre with Eddie Hayes as the Manager who was considered the God Father of the Irish community. A man who was always the life of the party. The Pub was renamed The Blarney Stone and had a 3am licence which enabled live music most evenings. My brother and I would trudge to school, blazers smelling of cigarettes, learning to sleep with the high-pitched laughter and drum beat from below. Once again, a pub full of community and culture, only this time being Irish. I can’t even explain the excitement and activities of St Patricks Day. Bay St was completely closed to traffic and the community would walk from Molly Blooms (beach end of Bay St) to the Blarney Stone. Marquees set up between the infamous Faram Bros hardware and the Pub. Stages with young dancers showcasing traditional Irish dance. The Council was open minded with less red tape and the community was richer for it. I remember every hotel in Bay St having to enter a team of four people for a boat race from one end of Bay St to the other. Eight Competing boats all representing a Pub, lined up ready to race 1.5km. Unfortunately, our 4 competitors had a skinful of Guinness by the midday start and our boat painted with the lucky 4 leaf clover was built of wood, whilst others made of polystyrene. Obviously, not thought out too well although riveting and joyful for local spectators. It felt as if the good times continued for years.

Next stop was the Middle Park Hotel.  Suddenly, we found ourselves in a quiet, gentrified establishment with only 4 older gentlemen “the barflies”, frequenting the front bar from 11am-2pm. However, our family quickly changed that. Overnight the hotel filled with young people from Albert Park. Team sports all congregating 5 nights a week, celebrating their wins or commiserating their losses. The back dark nightclub transformed, habits were changing and so was the expectation of the local Pub. No longer the 7 oz swill but the communal jugs being filled with flowing Carlton Draught. The everlasting chicken parma being a Pub staple, materialised. I’m a firm believer that a pub has a particular purpose. It is not a restaurant; it is not a café. It is a stand-alone establishment for the community. Any one is welcome and should be treated with respect. Give the punter what they want and deserve.

It was the year the Middle Park Hotel experienced its first Grand Prix. The crowds were enormous which overflowed into the local watering holes. I thought St Patricks Day was crowded until I experienced the Melbourne Grand Prix. 10 security guards standing on wine barrels scattered around the pub and the street. Once again closed off for people to enjoy the surrounding atmosphere and glorious sunshine Melbourne occasionally showcases. Larrikins were tossed into nearby taxis by security men looking as wide as tall. The typical caricature of the 90’s bouncer. This allowing for the locals and families to enjoy the festivities. It was like the Royal Melbourne Show on your doorstep. The Redbull cars, the flag bearing girls, Melbourne was alive.

Next Stint was across the Westgate to create another Irish successful venue however the family quickly returned to the beloved roots of Port Phillip. The Palmerston Hotel. A pub steeped in tradition, owned originally by old Ma Monroe for 60 years and then passed onto us. Receiving that Pub was like receiving a museum, full of historical remnants from yesteryear. 1950’s photos of local scallywags laughing, standing around the then circular bar which I framed proudly around the walls. I clearly remember the first day I walked into that Pub. My family had told me I was taking over the following day and I should go and see what needed to be done. It was an absolute eyesight. Originally, I thought the barmaid was a stripper. The entire pub looked as if it was an ice cream shop. Pastel walls with white plastic furniture. I remember asking the barman for a coffee and being swiftly sent across the road. How things have changed. Within months the Palmerston was transformed, a quick lick of paint and a new start. Suddenly, the menu and staff changed and so did the clientele. It became a Hub for businesspeople within the area to meet and eat. With a catchy slogan, “Have a Parmie at the Palmie”, quickly the Palmerston Hotel became known in the community. Murals decorating the exterior. Many will remember driving down Kings Way, seeing a mural of a man hanging out the front window or Jackie Collins kicking a goal. Saturdays were full of men and women alike drinking and punting. It feels as if my entire life has been one long bar full of characters, there are Gunners and Longy’s, Skinnies and Sausages, Wayno’s and Rockets all nicknames that continue from Pub to Pub.

The Latest stop, but not the last, is The Rising Sun Hotel, South Melbourne. What an establishment and what a time like no other. Even though the Hotel is located in a strong socio-economic suburb, we offer food and beverages at reasonable prices to accommodate everyone. The Rising Sun Hotel is your quintessential Australian community Pub. Therefore, it brings great sadness that the first time in history, Government has forced closure on such an important establishment for so many to seek solace. However, let’s not dwell on the constant talk of closures but the reopening of business bringing laughter, joy, a social backdrop for our ever-evolving community. The Rising Sun Hotel, the home of the South Melbourne (Sydney) Swans. The Riser, an institution for footy, racing, good food, cold beer and an avenue for live music. Once a pub tucked away, for the working-class man born into the rough and tumble of South Melbourne, shirking from the ever-looming St Kilda Rd Police precinct. Evolving from a pub surrounded by the local dairy to one now surrounded by 12 storey buildings, housing corporates, hungry for a break from the office surround. To now, a pub transformed back to its roots. Offices becoming apartments with new locals, neighbours, The Riser, a thriving community meeting point. Community supporting each-other’s needs and expectations through these changing times.

Although these establishments vary, the heart of the Pub never does. I hope I have given you an insight into my life in the City of Port Phillip. I’m sure my story has given you a taste of why I live in such an eclectic space and clearly displays my passion for people.

Who knows where the next chapter of my life takes-off? Catch you for a drink soon.

Hayley’s family owned over a dozen Hotels in Melbourne. She is still today known as the “Publicans Daughter” at The Rising Sun Hotel, is married to Mal Wakefield and has 2 boys. She continues to live in the vibrant City of St Kilda.