Leave Fitzroy behind as the door opens and you step back in time to a speakeasy in America's deep south, with craypots hanging from the ceiling and bottles suspended by old ropes. Here you get looked after at your table where you sit with the privileged few who can secure a table on a busy night. Alternatively grab a stool at the bar or sit on one of the banquettes by the window and look down at Brunswick Street below and order a plate of the famous duck nachos to share...if you're feeling generous.

To work behind the bar here you have to be a gun and with cocktails a speciality make sure you choose one from the menu or hand over control and see what comes your way. Regardless of what you drink you won't leave quickly. Who would want to when you've climbed the stairway to heaven.