In Australia, the beer garden is an integral part of the cultural facade. Lazy Sunday afternoons are whiled away at the Sunday Sess (pronounced "Sesh") listening to live music, drinking a few cool ales and being mesmerized by the soft backdrop of a well planned garden.

Admittedly, since having children, it's been a while since we've enjoyed this pleasure but on the weekend we indulged ourselves at two hotels taking in the splendour of each respective beer garden. They were two very different establishments; the first being a renovated pub which now targeted itself toward the young chic crowd while the second was a 19th century hotel holding onto its old world charm. The gardens reflected these differences wonderfully and both felt like they worked well.

As we sat and enjoyed the views I contemplated the characteristics that made these gardens work. For starters, one had to understand the way in which these gardens were going to be man-handled - alcohol being tipped over plants from patrons who had indulged in just a little too much, copious amounts of cigarette smoke being filtered through tree canopies and the lack of time available for maintenance.

Both of the gardens we visited handled the stress very differently. The first, the upper-class chic hotel, went completely minimal. Large water features with assorted rushes and grasses softening the edges, succulents hiding bare soil and large palms to offer shade and height.

The other beer garden in the historic circa 1820's pub seemed to go completely the opposite way. The ramshackle garden fought with guest's seating for valuable space and the plantings were without rhyme nor reason. In one corner would be a tropical jaunt including towering cannas, flowering hibiscus and tubs of roses, while another section displayed jade, kalanchoe and sempervivums mixed with statice and stocks. Bean climbing tripods tipped awkwardly amongst a sea of alstroemeria while a young plane tree surged out of the custom boardwalk.

Both gardens suited their environments wonderfully and their charms were certainly not lost on us, or the other patrons who frequented them on the weekend.

It then occurred to me that without a garden, the beer garden was just another space within the hotel. People actually came, whether knowingly or not, to enjoy the plants and softness they created. The ambience and freedom of enjoying a few lagers in the beer garden is definitely something we enjoy - and treasure.

Yet, what was most surprising was the way in which patrons interacted with the garden. The young chic set seemed to take it for granted, opting for the tables with the most shade yet not visibly screened from the hotel's panorama. The older pub, however, offered many secluded nooks where you could wrap yourself in privacy and enjoy the garden seemingly on your own.

Both obviously worked - but only because of the demographic of their clientele. If you were to hypothetically switch the two I'm sure you would find that the patrons would follow accordingly. One couldn't pick which was the best for they both succeeded in creating the desired effect for each individual beer garden.