Okay, so the title of this post isn’t a nod to my obsession with live music (which is very much a ‘thing’). Instead, it’s referring to an actual bar called The Music Bar, which is (or was?) located on the cusp of the Salamanca quarter in Hobart, Tasmania. In an attempt to confirm whether or not this place still exists, I can tell you that I spent the last 20 minutes on Google street view/searching around in an effort to suss this out. For the record, all I had to work off of was my memory from four years ago and an image of a sign that I’d saved on Snapchat. I’m very pleased/ashamed to say that this absurd investment of my time was moderately successful! For those of you who may be dying to know, The Music Bar was located at 11 Morrison Street in Hobart’s downtown area (as I said, right on the cusp of the Salamanca area). From what I can see, it may still be a thing. If it isn’t, it looks like it could now be called Gold Bar, maybe Tacos Mexican Restaurant, I really don’t know. Nonetheless, 11 Morrison Street is in an awesome area and it’s worth strolling by to see if The Music Bar is still in operation. If you do take me up on this suggestion, the worst case scenario is that it’s no longer in existence and you find yourself steps away from the awesome Salamanca quarter. So….either way, you’re welcome.

I discovered this spot during my first solo hiking trip in Tassie. After landing in Hobart, I was keen to drop my things off at the YHA Hostel, which is located downtown, so I could seek out some live music on a drizzly Saturday evening. I’d spoken with the helpful staff at the hostel and they were kind enough to supply me with a shortlist of places to check out; one of those places happened to be The Music Bar.

As I strolled along the sidewalk towards the Salamanca Market area, it wasn’t too difficult to spot a sign jutting out from the building to my right, sporting the words “Music Bar” in bright red neon. I figured I’d found my destination. Once I entered the venue, I discovered that it wasn’t all that large. The furnishings were simple with a collection of tables throughout, mixed with some cushy leather chairs and sofas that were situated around a few small tables. I headed to the bar to grab myself a pint, but ended up embracing the Fall season by opting for a teacup of mulled wine.

After receiving my delicious-smelling bevvy, I assessed the table options and decided on an empty spot that was situated stage left…or is it right?…whatever, when facing the stage, I was on the left and stationed along the wall to my left. I saw a plaid-clad guy head up to the front where a spotlight showcased a microphone and a stool. He pulled a guitar out of its case and started tuning. As he did, I took my GoPro out of its selfie stick, sat it on the table, and angled it towards the front of the room. As he took his seat, I hit the ‘record’ button to grab the introduction and first part of his opening number, before tucking into my book. The musician introduced himself as “Cameron” and welcomed everyone to the gig. From the moment this guy strummed the first chord, I was in heaven. To sit on a drizzly evening, with my book in-hand (or a laptop at my fingertips), in a cozy bar, while listening to live music is the definition of my ‘quad-fecta’.

About halfway into his first set, as I sat reading and minding my own business, a pair of older gents approached my table and asked if I’d mind them sitting in two of the seats. The bar’s seating options were saturated at that point and it was only fair for them to take a stab at snagging two of the three vacant seats at the table I’d commandeered. As per usual, I was happy to encounter new company, so I invited them to take a seat and enjoy the music. I remained fairly glued to my book and tried to make it clear that I was very busy- I’ve had my fair share of odd encounters when I’ve been out on my own and have honed the art of being ‘too preoccupied to be social’.

Despite my efforts, a couple minutes later one of the men pointed at my GoPro and asked if I was dating the musician (he’d clearly noted I was recording clips of the gig on-and-off, like a creep). I think he assumed I was recording for promotional purposes, rather than for my ‘memory-hoarding’ purposes. I was a bit caught off-guard by the question. I informed him that I was not dating the musician, that I just really liked live music, and that I was documenting my travels. The other guy then proudly informed me of the fact that they both knew the musician “personally” and that he was the “greatest bloke” they knew. I said that, that sounded great and that it was very cool for them to know the musician “personally”. I told them that they must be proper locals for Cameron to know who they were and that I was sure that Cameron really appreciated their support. They seemed chuffed by this and proceeded to engage me in conversation, prompting me to close my book and welcome the chatter.

They told me about how they were born-and-raised Tasmanians, who were currently living in the suburbs of Hobart with their families. They described how heading downtown for a catch-up and a live music session was an informal weekly, sometimes fortnightly, thing they did. They explained how The Music Bar, in particular, was a favourite destination. They asked about my presence in Hobart, given my “accent”, and I cheerily filled them in on my stints in Aus, my love for Tassie, and my quickly-developing infatuation with Hobart and its live music scene. They asked about the book I was reading, which was a copy of “A Complicated Kindness” that I’d purchased at the Salamanca Market that day. I explained that, even though I’d read it years prior, I love that book and thought it was too perfect that I’d found a copy at the market. I asked about their recommendations for things to see and do around Hobart and had them verify whether or not my decision to visit Cape Hauy the next day was a good one (apparently, it was). They asked about my itinerary for Cape Hauy and I detailed my plans to drive over to the trailhead for for a 4-hour hike, so I could at least tick a piece of the extended Three Capes Track off of my to-do list.

Once the musician’s first set ended, he announced that he’d be taking a quick break. As he passed our table to grab himself a pint, the gents that I was now seated with loudly blurted “Cam!! Oi, Cam!”, while enthusiastically waving at him, even though he was only two feet away. I kept my eyes on my book, as I was a bit embarrassed by their boisterous greeting (I prefer to fly under the radar). He stopped and greeted them and they invited him to join our table once he’d gotten his drink.

Once Cam returned, he took over the remaining vacant seat at the table and properly said his “hellos” to my newfound table mates, while looking a bit clued out as to who I was. One of the two gents introduced me and took it upon himself to inform Cam of the fact that I was from Canada, that I was in the midst of a solo adventure through Tasmania, and that I thought he was a “fabulous” musician. The four of us discussed the vibe of the bar, Hobart, and Cam’s first set during the intermission. Cam talked about how he enjoyed living in the Hobart area. He and the older gents made a couple jokes that I couldn’t quite hear or understand (thanks to their accents and quick-paced talking), but I laughed along anyways (my hearing can be pretty brutal in normal circumstances, let alone in loud spaces with lots of people talking around me). Eventually, Cam said it was nice meeting me, told his mates that he hoped to see them next week, and excused himself to go perform his second set. He headed back up to round out his evening of musical offerings.

Shortly after he concluded the second set of slaying the guitar and providing terrific vocals, Cam started packing up his guitar and my two new mates wished me a great holiday, before heading out. I stuck around a little while longer to soak in the ambience of the pub and reflect on the evening I’d had (this partially consisted of me whipping out my phone to jot down notes from the evening in the ‘Notes’ app, so I had an accurate account of the night).

Not only did I have the opportunity to bask in an evening of my ‘quad-fecta’, but I’d also had an unexpectedly social time. I’d had the chance to speak with a couple of locals, who also happened to be regulars at The Music Bar. I’d had the chance to be part of a conversation with the musician at the pub. I’d spent the past few fours listening to live music, chatting with friendly strangers-turned-friends-for-the-evening, and was revelling in the fact that I was enjoying my night in a small bar in Tasmania.

I thought about how the next considerable ‘landing pad’ South of where I was would technically be Antarctica and that had me feeling like I was on the edge of the world, but with so many of my most treasured comforts right in my midst. It really was such a great night! I love when spending time doing something I love is unexpectedly accompanied by getting to engage with new, friendly faces that are interested in having a conversation with a stranger.

So…moral of the story is that, if you ever find yourself in Hobart and (inexplicably) stymied for something to do, get your butt over to 11 Morrison Street. If The Music Bar is still there, regardless of the act you have the chance to see, I can promise that you’ll be stepping into a great vibe, in a wonderful locale, with tunes and a homey atmosphere to keep you entertained. If The Music Bar is no longer kicking around, I’d still encourage you to head that way and challenge you to visit some other spots in the area (like The Whaler, or Irish Murphy’s, or maybe IXL Long Bar); you won’t be disappointed!