I gave Sydney’s new metro its toughest test yet – a pub crawl

OpinionCrime ReporterNovember 2, 2026 — 11:27amNovember 2, 2026 — 11:27amIt’s midnight in Lakemba, the fruit shops are pumping, as are the cafés – and the pub – in ways no Potts Point retiree could believe is still legal. I spot another visibly inner west white boy by his stick-and-poke tattoos and we nod to each other. His massive jorts flap in the breeze like a friendly flag.He and I are gentrification shock troopers, penetrating further than ever into the final livable areas of Sydney to drive up the price of schooners and sandwiches. And with the metro at our disposal we won’t be stopped.One of the few pics of the night that was actually in focus.Perry DuffinToday is the first of many incursions, a pub crawl that began at Victoria Cross in Sydney’s north. VB here is a recession-driving $13 and the empty office buildings get the best view of the harbour. The chair polishers here whisper like superstitious villagers that the metro will revive working in the office.“The plague long hath finished,” they chitter, “but where ist the socials marketing team?”They’re with me, zooming into the city to Market City Tavern to marinate in the smoking section. It’s a strange mix of ABC employees and Chinatown cigar enthusiasts, presumably bonding over their mutual communism.My regular haunt, the controversial Marrickville Golf Club, is best reached by getting off at Dulwich Hill. But we go one further as we head to the outer inner west. This time, to a bar so good I will be exiled from Hurlstone Park Facebook drama group for telling you about it, HP Bowlo.A proper neighbourhood joint without a bowling green but a reliable roster of locals drinking, working and competing for meat trays from the little butcher next door.“It’s been very suspenseful,” Ed Turley, the 19-year-old barman says. “The metro is so sleek and modern, it’s not just heavy rail clunking around.”I slur in agreement. HP doesn’t have a kitchen either, but the city’s best pizza, Frankly Nicks, is on the corner and you’re allowed to eat it in the bar.Sydney, the further from Macquarie Street you go, gets cheaper, tastier and less puritan about the shackles placed on drinkers. The SW1 rail bus, the great pink Satan, has rattled past HP Bowlo every few minutes for two years, trying but failing to cruel the ambience. Now it’s dead.“I think the buses are just a great thing to complain about, gives people something to do,” Turley said, not recognising my acute trauma.We catch the silver bullet west again, to Lakemba. As a gentrifier, I am acutely aware of the controversy around AP Bakery’s indefensible $30 half of a sandwich. Leaving the inner city I was really hoping for some peace and healing from that debate. But instead I learn what $30 can really buy in a civilised place. Slabs of grilled animals, a round of drinks and being called “brother” after each transaction?“Every stop is $10 cheaper,” another of my fellow travellers says.Perry Duffin at bar number … Perry Duffin“If I can’t get a vape here, the jig is truly up.”Don’t worry – the jig was not up – and fortunately we reached a pub where the bounds of the smoking section was really a matter of opinion.Certain communities in Sydney’s west don’t spend much time in their pubs, and I assumed the Lakemba Hotel would be quiet on a Friday. But I forgot one crucial thing – another community’s dedication to cricket, schooners and black market tobacco. If you can think of a better soundtrack to put $200 into the Dapto dishlickers than Women’s Big Bash League cricket (rerun) at midnight – please tell the boys at Lakemba.The only tragedy for me, and all who venture west asking for XPAs, is that you hit so many good joints before you can get to the nation’s premiere pokie palace. The Bankstown Sports Club has the most pokies of anywhere, almost 750 at last count, and takes in something like $20 million a quarter from its local pensioners, addicts and drinkers. Its embarrassment of riches has been funnelled into the club which has a rainforest, fake Chinatown and an entire Italian piazza within its walls.I’m not a gambler but I do like their cheap beers, about half the price of North Sydney, and it’s the only way to get to Italy on the metro (so far). It’s the type of excess only seen when third world dictators get their palaces raided, but problem gambling is the real engine room of this great state.But for us the night was over, I crawl into bed smelling like someone else’s Double Happiness ciggies and pub carpet (according to my wife, but I deny all charges).Next time you’re standing on the platform and heading toward the office, turn around.Perry Duffin is a crime reporter for The Sydney Morning Herald.More:Sydney MetroSydneyLakembaBankstownHurlstone ParkFor subscribersOpinionCity lifeFrom our partners