Around midnight the lights were on but a lot of people were at home or in Darling Harbour, Pyrmont, Double Bay, Bondi or anywhere else supporters of a vibrant late-night scene are not locked in (or out) at 1.30am.
Traffic entering Kings Cross was not backed up to Hyde Park. Darlinghurst Road was not congested with revelers reeling round queues to venues and crowded fast-food joints. On this balmy night Sin City’s time-honoured hive of Rest and Recreation was a holiday resort town way out of season.
George, on the door at Dreamgirls, has not seen business down so far – 60 per cent he reckons – in his 28 years working here. The weeks after 9/11 was the only time near as bad.
Round in Roslyn Street we stumble into a tableau from Underbelly: The Golden Mile that is the real deal – John Ibrahim flanked by muscled minders. At Lois’s prompting I proffer my SSH writer’s card and am rewarded with the immaculately groomed alleged crime czar’s candid opinion that the trial of lockouts is unlikely to go past next year’s state election because it is too expensive to police and should be state-wide. His business in the Cross is down 35 to 40 per cent. He wonders about deals done to boost Star Casino takings to make up for Barangaroo. A generation of kids who can’t hold their drink should not be his problem. Mr Ibrahim and his menacing minions have no time for amateur brawlers.
The demographics of Potts Point and Darlinghurst have shifted. Former hotels are now residential towers filled with affluent occupants less likely to frequent traditional venues or burgeoning small bars than complain long and loud about them. Potts Point and Kings Cross Heritage Conservation Society President, Andrew Woodhouse, is enjoying the lunchtime deals from venues keen to get patrons in at any time with business down about 30 per cent according to his sources.
In Kellett Street, Café Roma is unaffected by lock-ins. The manager, Danilo, can let customers come and go till he chooses to close the restaurant at 2.30am. A young man exits vomiting. First time she’s seen that in 18 months working there, says a waitress. Business is down 20 per cent.
Bayswater Road is busy but not boisterous. Bus queues are short. Hugo’s is buzzing. These patrons are not worried about public transport. At half-past one the view from the bar is an emptied street. Fast-talking clubbers concur it’s probably better being sent home at three. Six armed, uniformed police pop in and look about, as they do, apparently, two or three times most nights. We leave about 2am.
Nino’s amplified guitar echoes across the empty granite plaza where Victoria Street crosses Darlinghurst Road. He has busked here for years. “Less people, less aggression,” he opines. Yes … there’s less.
