Eight tables
Old potting benches, resurfaced, with chips that count points and nothing else.
For thirty years this shed raised eucalypt seedlings for the koala rescue people two streets over. The timber trays and the watering cans stayed; we added a kitchen at the front and eight card tables under the old growing lights. Cards for points, never for money — no pokies, no bets, no online play.

The nursery raised tube stock: thousands of eucalypt seedlings a season, watered by hand, sorted on timber benches and trucked out to plantings up and down the Hastings.
When it closed we bought the shed with everything still in it. The benches became tables, the trays became shelving, and the lighting rig that grew the seedlings now hangs over the card room on a dimmer.
Sixty-odd people fit under that roof. We stop taking bookings there, because the shed has a tin roof and a full room under tin is nobody's idea of a quiet evening.

Old potting benches, resurfaced, with chips that count points and nothing else.
Fish off the wharf, macadamia from up the range, greens from two growers.
The original growing rig, dropped a tier at a time from seven onwards.
Everyone in this building is 18 or over. Identification is checked at the front bench.
Chips exist to keep score. They are never sold, never redeemed and hold no cash value at all.
No stake, no pot and no money moving between players — in the room or out on the loading dock.
This venue has no gaming machines and no plans to ever install one.
Keep phones on silent. Calls belong at the front, where the roof is lower and nobody is playing.
Alcohol service stops when we think it should. That decision is not a conversation.
The card room takes the back two thirds of the shed. Concrete floor, timber trusses overhead, one light per table and a curtain that closes it off from the kitchen when the room fills.
Games here are social and played for points. Chips are handed out at the start of a session and collected at the end. They are not sold, cannot be cashed and mean nothing the moment you step outside.
A table host works the room on the busier nights, not as an umpire but as someone to ask. Newcomers get walked through a game without an audience.

Walk in, take a seat, no list and no booking.
Held by phone for parties of four to six until seven.
A quiet hour for people who have never played. Free, six seats.
35 Clarence Street, Port Macquarie NSW 2444
+61 2 6583 7719 · bench@playkoalix.com
Wednesday to Sunday, midday – 11pm






The kitchen buys from the co-op on the river and from two growers on the hinterland road. What that produces is what gets cooked, which is why the board is short and why it moves.
Macadamia turns up in most things, because the grower is twenty minutes away and will not take no for an answer. The greens come from the same run.
The bar leans on cider from the Hunter Valley orchards, a handful of local beers and eight wines by the glass. Kitchen closes at half nine; the bar keeps going with cold plates until close.

Whatever landed that morning, cooked plainly and served hot.
In the crumb, in the butter and in at least one dessert.
Four ciders, three beers, rotated when the keg runs out and not before.
Five jobs get handed out at the start of every service. The names change; the jobs do not. If something goes sideways, this tells you whose shoulder to tap.
Somebody is on the phone from eleven. Say whether it is dinner, cards or both, and how many of you there are — that is the whole process.
Phone the front benchWednesday to Sunday, midday – 11pm
+61 2 6583 7719
Koalix Nursery is a licensed kitchen and card room on Clarence Street. The whole building is restricted to adults.
Nothing is played through this website: no online play, no wagering and no gaming machines anywhere on the premises.