The Thousands

If Mr Wilkinson were alive today he’d have a Don Draper-decorum, an always-full bottle of single malt Scotch and several James Cameron suits. There’s no doubt about this guy’s class. Fortunately for us Mr Wilkinson is just a comfortable new drinkery on Lygon Street, Brunswick. He’s near a servo, a pizza shop, some anonymous offices and could reach out and wave to The Alderman just down the street.

Don’t leave it too long before you visit Mr Wilkinson. The polish on the floorboards is fresh and the paint on the walls is still new. Blend these flavours with lit candles and a bottle of some fancy shiraz and you’re in some kind of 16th century heaven where home is just a few stumbly blocks away.

Sure, he didn’t like trees that much, but the original Mr Wilkinson, who founded Brunswick, would probably be pleased with the suburb today. He kicked it off with a post office and a newspaper more than 150 years ago, and now the cream of Melbourne’s design world are fitting out sophistimicated bars. And the settlers said it was “too marshy”. Pffft. Douchebags.