While out on Saturday night I hazily remember a conversation with a friend over from Canada about a $4000 bottle of wine he had seen on a menu at a local bar. 

Maybe it’s my small town upbringing or the slim grasp on reality that I still maintain which leads me to believe that there is no possible situation warranting the purchase of such a bottle unless, of course, the mighty Southland Stags win the ITM Cup or the proposed Milford tunnel somehow rips a hole in the space-time continuum, linking up with the Stockholm Metro to bring in trainloads of confused-looking Scandinavian tourists blurry-eyed and in search of comforting. 

As I sit here gazing out a slightly off square north Dunedin window nostalgically lamenting my student days a grey misty drizzle shrouds the surrounding hills, it is as if the city is crying, mourning the loss of two iconic bastions of its proud and unique culture all in one weekend. The air is still and the streets airily quiet, I imagine this it is what it could be like the day after the world has ended. The more relevant and perhaps truer explanation is this is what it is like the day after the last ever test at Carisbrook has provided a decent portion of the populace with a David Tua left hook sized hangover. 

As my own head clears and the haze recedes the gravity of what has just been put to rest wells up inside me like two day old fish pie. I guess this is the feeling of loss sinking in. The Gardens Sports Tavern or Gardies for short summed up by owner Pete Innes Jones as ‘an iconic old boozer’ has poured its last Jug of Speight’s, dried the felt on the pool tables for the final time and locked the doors on 40 years of memories.