Were I a politician I’d start the Save Our Milk Bars party. Nothing says Australia, and suburbia, and my childhood like a good, honest chippy. I love them. Just cannot get enough of them. But they’re a dying breed, like old man pubs and the Tassie Devil(stupid face cancer. Be less awful.) Thank God for Byron Bay and Mac’s, a proper tin-roofed, couch-out-the-front milk bar where you can get a burger, chips and a can of Passiona for around a tenner, and where the girls behind the counter take the time to toss a few jokes around with you and hell, they’re probably barefoot back there because summer. I want to live here. I want to marry here. Even more so because they gave me extra tubs of chilli sauce and garlic aoli when I asked for them. FORFREE. Say whaaa?! I’ll invite you to the wedding, don’t worry. And it’ll be BYO tinnies. Yep.