The Irish have their McCarthy’s, the Aussies’ the Sieble, the Americans the Gaulthouse, and the fabled watering hole in this part of the world is Bellissimo’s. When you’re driving by, it’s the most unlikely joint in the world, ensconced between a sawmill and a cattle feedlot, but wow!! Once you get inside, it hums like none of those we’ve just mentioned.
What’s happened at Bellissimo’s is that it has stolen a march on every other place of its kind in the world, and you can turn up there in mid-winter at midnight with the centigrade as low as minus 5 or 6, and there are still 200 gyrating bodies performing before the flickering fires, with the pub still doing a roaring trade.
And as Summerhill approaches its third consecutive Breeders Championship, with the breeding season right on us and the stallions on fire, it’s an arguable proposition that the quality of the banter before the campfires has now reached levels without any precedence!
Not for persons under the age of 21 years, and certainly not for the faint-hearted!