4 minute read

The Storyteller

At the Swiss Mountain Hotel, Jimmy Frangos struts in, his personality precedes him. A Daylesford restaurateur, he’s a larger than life character that ignites the bar with his charm. “I was a troublesome sort of kid,” he quips behind tortoise shell designer sunglasses and a rugged flannelette. I was in the weathered hands of a gifted story-teller.

“I had feelings and emotions I liked to express, it came out in my work and how I build things.” The Swiss Mountain Hotel is one of the oldest weatherboard pubs in Victoria. Built in 1865, Jim has developed the lively pub to include a beer garden and a rustic dining saloon. The menu is old-school pub grub that thrives with as much local produce as possible. Jim’s roots are in hospitality, a skill he cultivated in country Victoria.

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“We lived in Warrnambool. It was very tough. In other areas of Melbourne and Geelong, the Greek kids were ostracized,” Jim makes me an espresso, with a side of grappa. “I thought I was a bit of a hero. Our first business was a place called The Capri. We brought coffee machines to Warrnambool. I would stand on a book and work the coffee levers. On a Friday evening, after the dance or the movies, the queue would be around the block just to get a cappuccino. We used to be open until 1 or 2am. This was in 1960.”

The memories light up his mood as he pours story after story. “People came from Mortlake, they came from Camperdown, 60 miles away to have a coffee and dance. But I miss the characters more than anything.”

Jim’s father's business took off, and he decided to open his own cafe across the road.

“I went to an old florist. We did the design and fitout, I painted murals all over the walls. My father came in just before we put the tables in, he was really proud. He walked around the room, and he had a bottle of Moet champagne and glasses between his fingers. As he walked around the edges, his foot went through the floor. The water from the flowers had rotted the floor.”

From studying the philosophy of art to peddling ceramics, Jimmy Frangos earned his stripes through self-expression but his love of hospitality can be traced back to his days in Warrnambool. As he recounts memories of his father, there’s a sense that this was the character Jim misses most. He takes a swig of grappa before drowning in nostalgia, “My father was a meticulous dresser; three piece suit, lapel flower. He was getting them tailored in Melbourne.

He was getting his hair cut in Melbourne. Incredible man. He used to take me on a twoand-a-half hour trip by train, just to get my hair cut in Melbourne. The bloke would trim your hair and burn it with a twist of paper and a steel comb. They would cut your nails.” Jim can barely contain himself, “For a kid, at the Southern Cross hotel, it was pretty special. We got around, we saw things that were special. We knew the people at Florentino’s. We knew the nightclub at Mario’s, which was a notorious place.”

After being conscripted to Vietnam in the 1970s, Jim wanted to escape his life in Mount Eliza and run hotels. “I was very unsettled. I wasn’t aggressive. I didn’t suffer PTSD. But I wasn’t alright. Fortunately, I met my wife. We were living in Mount Eliza. So we decided that we would buy a hotel. Daylesford came up.” Jim would buy The Belvedere Hotel, where the Frangos & Frangos sign hangs on Vincent Street. “I met a bloke called Mr Dyson, his nickname wasThe Monkey Man because he had a monkey on his bloody shoulder and monkey shit all down his back. I eventually bought the pub. I was doing roughly 35 barrels a week.”

In those days, the town was booming with hordes of riggers. “At that time, the gas pipeline came through so all these men had to sleep somewhere, there was no accommodation for them. The blokes were earning 40 thousand a year in American dollars and they were working 18 hour days on oil rigs. I filled the place with them. I fit four blokes in every room. I must have had at least thirty blokes.” Jim paid off the hotel within a year. “I never had a cash register, it was a drawer and they would put the money in, even when I was upstairs asleep. They would even clean the floor before they left. They were Yugoslavs, Germans and Greeks. It was a multi-lingual, beautiful environment.”

Jim’s stories harken back to a time in Australia, where the honest country spirit would shine in the manner of blokes he still admires. “In those days, if you were on the dole you had to work. You would pick spuds. But when it rained, they were all in the pub,” laughs Jim. “We had an etiquette back then, if you walk in the door and I know what you drink, it would be put in front of you. I didn’t wait for your money. When I came back, you’d order another one and pay for two. Towards the end of the night, I’d shout you one. In turn, to be good mannered, you’d buy another. That’s how etiquette was. That’s how this place was back then. Nobody does that anymore.”

In some ways, that camaraderie still exists at the Swiss Mountain Hotel, people ask about your day and care to listen. After a few rounds, Jim might even shout you one. Just remember to return the favour.

Swiss Mountain Hotel swissmountainhotel.com.au 3454 Midland Hwy, Blampied 5345 7006