Critiques of Sydney nightlife can be overblown. Since the repeal of the lockout laws and the end of COVID-19 lockdowns, there’s no doubt things are better than they once were.
But some long-standing gripes still ring true – and might even be getting worse. Last Friday, three Herald journalists out on the town – separately – had encounters with typically “Sydney” problems that turned a fun night out into a chore.
On their separate Friday nights out, our reporters encountered the unholy trinity of Sydney nightlife: a closed kitchen, overbearing security and noise complaints.Credit: James Brickwood
The fact they all happened on the same night to three people who just happen to work in the same office shows how much work there is to do to make Sydney a city where nightlife is reliably fun and easy for everyone, not hit-and-miss, or just for the wealthy and those in the know.
The closed kitchen: Kishor Napier-Raman, CBD columnist
“It’s Friday night and as you do, the boys go out to the pub for a few drinks. We’re meeting up in Barangaroo, which is probably a bit of a mistake, but some of my mates work around there.
“After a few, we’re like, ‘We wanna try out this new joint called the Winghaus’. Looks like some kind of sports bar vibe. A bit janky but it’s Barangaroo, everything’s a bit janky.
No food for you: CBD columnist Kishor Napier-Raman was confounded by a closed kitchen - at 8.25pm.Credit: Janie Barrett
“It’s a bit after 8pm, it seems fairly busy. We walk in, and the guy says, ‘Just letting you know our kitchen’s closed’. This is 8.25pm on a Friday night in the Sydney CBD, a city that has designs on calling itself a global city.
“The guy said it was because there weren’t enough people, so they just closed it early. It didn’t look quite that quiet to me... Maybe peak time is busier than that. But again, it’s 8.25pm.
“We went back to the pub where we originally were, and their kitchen was still open, probably for another half hour or so. We squeezed in and had a relatively mediocre pub feed.”
The Herald left two messages with Pacific Concepts, which owns Winghaus and other restaurant brands, but did not hear back.
“What is the point?” Aviation reporter Amelia McGuire’s karaoke night stalled, thanks to noise complaints.Credit: James Brickwood
The noise restrictions: Amelia McGuire, aviation and tourism reporter
“Me and my boyfriend and two of our friends started doing this thing called Alphabet Eats. We meet monthly at a restaurant in a Sydney suburb which starts with the letter of the month.
“We were up to ‘X’, so we went to Diana near Kings Cross. It’s this upmarket Korean and Chinese restaurant with delicious food, but at 9pm they turn into karaoke. It’s super fun.
“So I’ve sold this big game to my friends, 9pm comes around the restaurant owner says, ‘Sorry everyone, I’m having a massive fight with my neighbours at the moment, and we can only do karaoke for half an hour tonight’. And I’m like: what the f---?
“We got about four songs. We’d just done Shallow. Every table is standing up, we’re all dancing with these people of all ages that we don’t know, and then the party’s over”.
“It wasn’t even 10pm on a Friday night, I’m walking around an effectively dead Potts Point thinking to myself, ‘What is the point of Sydney’s nightlife?’ It was a fizzer.”
Back when the city never slept and you could get a meal at Café Hernandez at 3am. Photographed at 3am on Saturday, January 31, 2004.Credit: Steve Lunam
Diana’s owner Sammy Jeon said most of his Macleay Street neighbours were amenable, but others were difficult. He’s worried they’re trying to kick him out. “I have to be careful,” he said.
The overbearing security guard: Anthony Segaert, urban affairs reporter
“I was out with my friend who just got back from Europe. We had already gone out to Tio’s and then we went for dinner at Forrester’s [in Surry Hills]. We couldn’t get a seat inside because it was busy, which was great.
“They had outdoor seating – those canvas deck chairs, they’re wooden, and they collapse inwards. I was just swinging back ever so slightly on the pavement. The first two legs of the chair were maybe three centimetres off the ground.
Urban affairs reporter and chair criminal Anthony Segaert.Credit: Louise Kennerley
“Halfway through our chicken schnitzel we had a knock on the glass window pane. The security guard pointed to the chair and mouthed, ‘Stop swinging on the chair’.
“I was confused for a moment as to what the issue was. Then he said it again and pointed again at the chair. I laughed and I was like, ‘Are you telling me to stop swinging on my chair?’ I made a joke of it and then stopped for a moment.
“In my furious state at Sydney’s security guards, I just gently started swinging on it again. Until we got told 10 minutes later, ‘This outdoor area is closing in 20 minutes, and you have to leave’.
“We went inside for a bit and after that I was like, ‘Fun’s over’. By that point, it was 10.30pm. I’ve been told off once, that’s quite enough for the evening.”
The Herald called Forrester’s twice and left messages, but did not hear back.
NSW Night-time Economy Minister John Graham said Sydney still had too many rules after dark, and while the lockout laws were gone, “some of the restrictive culture they brought us lingers on”.
“It’s impossible to legislate against a bad night out, but the NSW Labor government is focused on delivering a regulatory environment that supports venues rather than imposing more rules,” he said.
“We are seeing a boom in new venues and nightlife districts opening across Sydney, and we will continue to work with the hospitality industry to create the right operating environment for nightlife to flourish.”
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