Let’s take you back to August. It’s a pleasant summer’s evening in Walle, Bremen’s West End, inside the bar Hart Backboard on the corner of the main drag into the city centre. It’s our first time here and we’re enjoying it a lot.
The bar is two-thirds full by 10pm, a nice balance. The ambience is chatty and convivial, there’s a warm timbre to the hubbub murmuring around a room lit with candles, fairy lights and globe lamps each adding flicker, twinkle and glow.
Despite being new to the city and to the bar, service is gracious and welcoming, the drinks order delivered directly without fuss, accompanied by some free salty snacks on the side, a small touch some overlook. Their beer selection is nothing specialist, though perhaps a little above Bremen’s average. A Franziskaner wheat beer from the tap arrives, tasting fresh. This still can be a very enjoyable beer if looked after, well-poured and – important for Hefeweizen – drunk at the right occasion. A warm summer evening is certainly that.
Scanning the room, soaking up the environment, it is clear the place is more than the sum of its parts. The care and love lavished on the place (which is no upscale bar) in order for it to feel lived-in, cosy, a venue with its own identity, somewhere you’d happily spend a longer time in, is palpable. The culmination of hundreds of small choices taken over years, the majority of which have added lustre to its appeal.
It is especially notable that Hart Backboard attracts a broad range of ages and gender without either inoculating itself to the point of blandness or over-trying. The very presence of a diverse audience burnishes it further.
There was no rule-book, no guideline for this business to follow that guaranteed this, instead their success is realised through strong intuition, careful judgement and a desire to please.
At these times it is worth pausing to appreciate the soft skills that have brought this about.
For just as there are ways to improve an experience, there are many more ways to ruin it.
All of us have visited venues which may offer a wall of beers, or a historic interior, or live events 7 days a week, but are let down by the poor quality of hospitality, the lack of any sense of welcome, a sense of churn and listlessness (sometimes pure disinterest, sometimes outright arrogance). The venue can be under or overheated, the music inappropriate for the setting or the acoustics in the room incompatible with having a large number of people in it on top of loud music. In late summer to early Autumn flies gather around kitchens and dishwashers spill over into the pub and are not dealt with, meaning you can be swatting these annoyances away well into winter. Sticky tables and floors in the wrong kind of bar shows a neglect, unloved items that change a pub from that nice “worn-in” feel to purely clapped-out. Bad smells. Staff indiscriminately spraying pink industrial disinfectant on the tables next to you. There can also be a meanness to an operation, lacking any attempt to foster the loyalty that ensures repeat custom. No samples, no deals, no loyalty cards, rules placed everywhere in the case of one notorious British brewery and pub chain. the bar almost acting as a barrier between you and the pub you want to love.
These type of places are unfortunately everywhere.
So, in an era where many are complaining about minimum wage rises affecting hospitality (do hospitality workers not spend their money in pubs?) while simultaneously complaining the same workers are staying at home, there are serious arguments that the perspective and emphasis needs to change, focusing on the power dynamics that disadvantage small independent pubs and the profiteering that burden pubs with expensive overheads. In difficult trading conditions there are also small changes pub owners can make, often costing little to nothing which help give customers a reason to return.
Hart Backboard gets this. So do many others. For the sake of throwing examples around – The Fountain in Leek, Piwna Stopa in Poznan, Nabuchodonosor in Toulouse.
Soft skills & small changes improve your pub or bar’s ambience and its sense of welcome, fostering loyalty; broadening and deepening your audience. Many of the best bar experiences we’ve had and the most successful, thriving businesses we’ve visited have been among the most humble and the most giving.
Down-to-earth, dog-eared, unvarnished but rarely dull. The ‘hyper-local’ dive bar / boozer / pajzl, or whatever you refer to it in your native tongue may be intimidating at first (sometimes at second, third, etc) but these places can be great fun and an eccentric source of charm.
Hyperlocal?
Seems a fitting term to use for venues where the patrons are not only customers, regulars, family, but stakeholders and guard dogs. You are entering territory where you have been made – accidentally or otherwise – to feel like an outsider! Your best hope is to ingratiate yourself or, failing that, make yourself the smallest target possible, by knowing the necessary pleasantries then minding your business and melting into the scenery.
In smaller venues, this is close to impossible – merely by entering their domain you have announced yourself as a curiosity! Be prepared to be talked to, stared at, joked about. Good humour and a sense of adventure are absolute musts.
What is the appeal of entering a place where your best hope is not to be welcomed but tolerated?
It is not only about drinking where the locals drink, but an environment where you can experience conversation or patter between regulars, music and dance from local performers, unusual rituals and etiquette that may not have been observed before, differences and distinctions between countries and cultures. Perhaps the chance to join in with these.
In a strange way, the absence of pretense in humble surroundings is a breath of fresh air – even when the air itself is thick with fug.
Hyperlocals also often have the benefit of appealing to a cross section of society. When culture is becoming atomised, old and young are mixing less and less – many of these places buck the trend. Sure, this is often brought together through a shared love of low prices – but who cares if it makes that difference?
A largely 21st century development. Changes in planning regulations made it easier for retail/shop space and residential property to be converted into licensed bars, turned into miniature versions of pubs. Micropubs seemed to spring up fastest in Kent and across the South East before becoming common in almost every town of decent size.
It is common for micro-pub owners to be dabbling in their early retirement running a bar as a semi-hobby to keep themselves occupied. The owner’s friends and family are often found by the bar, making them close to living rooms.
Their small size means conversation is overheard, effectively shared which acts as a natural catalyst for cross-chat and speaking with strangers. Often dog friendly which again seems to encourage conversation.
Micro-pubs score are relatively low on the intimidation scale – they are usually welcoming, but in some cases you can be drawn into “banter” (or craic / patter if you don’t like that word) where regulars test you out to discover what you’ve got. Sometimes cliquey, and depending on that group and their values, there can be unchecked comments flying around.
Hygiene Rating: 3/5 🧽🧽🧽
A mixed bag. Most are fine – in fact, some can be overly sterilised but, by the same token, some are pretty foul and smelly too. This tends to be guided by the values of the owners and the DIY nature of the business. There is no area manager to come around and tell the staff to sort their shit out.
Eccentricity Rating: 2/5 🥴🥴
As Micro Pubs attempting to ape existing formats (usually craft beer bars, pubs, ale houses), these aren’t the quirkiest of places, but they offer more variety and identity than any chain operations, while their compact size means they will always be more unusual social spaces.
The Tasca/Adega/Ultramarino/Bodega (Portugal 🇵🇹/ Spain 🇪🇸)
Portuguese and Spanish locals have what appears a natural filter screening out tourists and outsiders without seeming like they are even trying. A combination of intimidating format, absence of information to refer to, language barrier, absence of personal space and sometimes boisterous clientele achieves this.
Sometimes it is to their cost – we’ve chatted with some who have complained at lack of outside interest and would prefer to have more footfall.
The Portuguese Tasca or Adega can be as grand as a restaurant (although restaurants have really co-opted what are working class terms), but they are also common to mean a humble snack bar offering small plates alongside glasses of wine or beer. Normally starkly lit with aluminium bar counters and a solitary beer tap. Polaroids and cuttings of old events and highlights pinned behind the bar, old folk perched on bar stools. Families gesticulating wildly over their plates of food.
In Spain, Bodegas, Ultramarinos and Vermuterias are often highly informal places for clutches of people to stand rather than sit, which can be isolating as a solo visitor. There is no alternative but to get stuck in – go to the front, explain what you want. The problem is isn’t obvious what’s for sale. The locals don’t need a menu because they know what’s on offer – these places have been serving the same stuff for decades.
While service and hospitality is normally willing – most just want to know what you want – the format and etiquette in these places is a maze to navigate, and until you’ve experienced a few dozen it will still feel opaque.
Clientele are not hostile as a rule, but you can encounter times where you feel like an interloper rather than a welcome guest. This is keenly felt in cities with over-tourism. You’ll pick up on that very quickly.
Hygiene Rating: 3/5 🧽🧽🧽
It is certainly common place for Portuguese and Spanish bars to raise an eyebrow when it comes to hygiene. In Andalusia it is not uncommon for leftovers to be ditched onto the floor, which is swept up every hour or so – in theory. Some kitchens and cooks also do not give off the appearance of maintaining the highest or even minimum accepted regulatory standards. That said, often the front of house is kept in pristine condition. Perhaps the gleam off that brushed aluminium has more uses than you’d think.
Eccentricity Rating: 4/5 🥴🥴🥴🥴
Just as you thought you’d cracked these bars, you’ll visit one which changes the format up. Do I sit, do I stand, what the hell is this food I’m looking at? What is everyone else doing? Why are the servers shouting at customers? There’s a danger of a faux-pas at any moment which will announce yourself to the whole bar as the idiot stranger. When you factor in the frequently volatile nature of staff and owners, this is a type of bar that is anything but predictable.
One of the Kings of this format, there is no sign outside declaring a pub to be a Pajzl (derogatory/endearing term used by Czechs to denote a fun battered, characterful old boozer). Anything from a Hospoda, Hostinec, Restaurace, Krčma, Piváreň, etc can be a pajzl. These are pubs you have to sniff out from a few common themes. Being honest, it takes a while before you will have a satisfactory frame of reference.
The best have a particular glory to them. Luxuriating in their lack of artifice and pretension; their inaction and intransigence a badge of honour. Their appeal is not drawn only from recent nostalgia, but sewn into national folklore, with the historic, long-gone Jedová Chýše (aka The Poison Hut) acquiring a legendary status as a drinking den of iniquity and flamboyant levels of squalor and dilapidation. Even today, certain pubs are labelled as Poison Huts on Google reviews, TripAdvisor, etc.
In a Pajzl you can have fun, forget your worldly cares, place life on pause. They also provide a relief from the sometimes stifling formalities of Czech pubgoing – a total stranger may greet you “Ahoj” (informal) rather than the standard “Dobry den”, the servers can range from down-to-earth cool dudes to the most bone-chillingly icy and unwilling lords of their domain, cries of “ty vole!” are issued back-and-forth. The clientele accommodated in a Pajzl, well, that ranges from the most straight-laced city gents to specimens who you are realistically concerned the skin may slide off their bodies onto the pub floor.
How to spot these? We can’t guarantee it, but we’ve always found that pub windows with circular inset patterns correspond to a certain era of pub building and are a good sign you’ll be treated to a Pajzl.
Intimidation rating: 5/5 😱😱😱😱😱
A choreography of nerve-shredding elements prompt you to “turn back, flee!”. A mass of turning heads at your arrival, the need to greet servers and customers as though you were familiar, then afterwards their stares and growls of reaction that signify No, we have never met (and, frankly, we don’t much like the look of you). A heavy, often clandestine environment of boozing, like intruding on a collective dirty secret.
However, things generally settle down and before long – especially if you are in company, you will blend into the background. Sometimes, if individuals or staff feel you have handled yourself well you will be saluted on your departure or, such as we have experienced on rare occasions, treated to a handshake, almost as a compliment for having the balls to even try to drink in there.
Hygiene Rating: 1/5 🧽
Not exactly known for their fastidiousness when it comes to sanitation or indeed regimes of any sort, there are usually knowing online reviews about whether or not to trust the food in a Pajzl. Occasionally there will be a surprise as a grotty pub gives way to the most spotless of toilets you’ve ever seen, but just as often you’ll be hoping your toilet visit is, let’s just say, brief.
Eccentricity Rating: 4/5 🥴🥴🥴🥴
The cast of characters in a Pajzl is often what makes them so fun, a form of people watching that could become a spectator sport. Wild growls and grunts may emerge from shady characters playing cards, darts or three cushion pool, meanwhile outcasts, oddballs and inbetweeners young and old are forging their place in the world.
The opposite of clean-shaven Scandi values that is portrayed to the rest of the world, the brunt værtshus, or ‘brown pub’ is nothing less than a national phenomenon, basically the default definition of what a traditional pub is in Denmark.
Also going by terms like Vinstue or Bodega (owing to historic alcohol licensing machinations), these pubs show a couple of things – that working class culture is still tightly bound in Denmark, and that Northern Europeans want a warm room, cosy surroundings and alcohol inside them.
Cheap booze, gambling and smoking are the common themes in these pubs, which are usually decked out in retro signage and wood fittings amidst a palette of browns and reds.
For many months of the year, the outside is the enemy in Denmark, and “hygge” culture means much more than a marketing ploy to sell lampshades, coffee and cardigans. It also denotes the sense of belonging, both within a space but among a people. In Denmark that means old and young together, a mixture that makes these pubs sing.
For many, the smoke and dingy surroundings may intimidate, and some pubs off the beaten path may result in a few older heads turning, but the usually decent service and an overall tolerant atmosphere will put you at ease.
Hygiene Rating: 3/5 🧽🧽🧽
Nothing shrouded in a plume of cigarette smoke is really going to be clean, is it? All the same, there is usually reasonable effort made to clean surfaces and toilets.
Eccentricity Rating: 2/5 🥴🥴
As with all these bars, the den-like nature of a brunt værtshus pulls in a range of characters that would perhaps be uncomfortable elsewhere. However, this is Denmark, so they aren’t normally as florid or eye-opening – which is not to say such individuals aren’t out there! Often privately-run with the personal touch ensuring more distinction than corporate or chain ownership.
Honourable mentions
If you’re looking for cliquey local life in Germany 🇩🇪 then a village pub like a Gasthof will be your place to go, although they aren’t true dives, so instead find a raucherkneipe (smoking pub) as they can have the right combination of cosy, cliquey, local and unvarnished. The Pilsstube also applies – highly informal, lacking airs and graces even by the direct standards of Germany – and can be particularly intimidating.
In France 🇫🇷, Tabacs, or the Tabac PMU are their closest example – imagine a petrol station store or a newsagents where you’re allowed to drink and gamble. Yeah… great, eh?
Balkans Caffe Bars are too much of a catch-all term to include here, but you will find some that fall into this format, likewise the ‘Bife’ in Serbia 🇷🇸. Smoking and a strong contingent of regulars, locations that will not expect outsiders and a superficial gruffness to service and customers. Similar places can be found in Bulgaria 🇧🇬 and Romania 🇷🇴 but are far less common.
In Poland, the knajpa, old style small pubs with let’s say ‘grown-up’ clientele technically exist but are almost extinct. Likewise in the Baltics, because the neighbourhood/suburban boozer has almost vanished entirely.
Certain Irish 🇮🇪 pubs outside the larger towns and cities operate as grocery or hardware stores and these can be particularly characterful, locals-only venues. Some village pubs or roadside pubs are in such remote areas that they are unused to newcomers and such is the Irish knack of conversation, the ‘outsider experience’ is a guarantee, even a rite of passage.
The Czech 🇨🇿 Vinárna or Hungarian 🇭🇺 Borozó, working class wine-focused pubs, are formats often reserved for the owner, their families and friends these days. These are dying out fast as they are family-run, independent but have no future because they have fallen out of fashion with the younger generation. Hopefully there is time to turn that around, but it seems unlikely. Worth exploring.
Hungary 🇭🇺 also offers a funny term: “késdobáló”, or “knife-thrower”, referring to rough-and-ready pubs which descend into debauchery and beyond.
If you are interested in the many other terms for pubs and bars in Europe why not browse our Glossary?
Happy New Year! As we wake to a bright dawn on New Year’s Day 2024 we can’t help wondering what’s around the corner this year. But first, let’s draw 2023 to a close with a roundup of our activities, travels and the best new finds of the year!
January
Places visited: 🇫🇷 Rennes, Césson-Sevigné, St. Malo, Paris, Vitré 🏴 Leek, Macclesfield, Manchester
A first trip to Brittany on Eurostar proved a fascinating one with Breton Celtic culture influencing the pub and bar scene, the ubiquitous Blé (Black wheat) sneaking into some of their beers too. Rennes was a very lively young feel city with an old centre that spans the gamut from tasteful to tacky, St. Malo was probably the standout of the trip for its austere militarism, skyline and sea views, as well as hosting one of the bar finds of the year, the dazzling, idiosyncratic La Java Café, otherwise known as the bar with the longest name by the port opposite the street next to the butchers round the corner above the church etc, etc, etc…
The small preserved Medieval town of Vitré was the scene of a crisis as an ATM swallowed my sister’s debit card, then, bafflingly, it happened to me hours later in Rennes leaving us surviving on online purchases and a dwindling cash reserve all the way back to London via Paris. The time in Paris was far more fraught than we’d have liked. Both of us have since acquired new credit cards as a backup – don’t let that ever happen to you! Also, pick a bank with international branches if you travel a lot.
A long weekend with friends to Prague 🇨🇿 began in Bratislava 🇸🇰, discovering a very quirky brewery tap, Muzejny Hostinec in revivalist First Republic era style. A night out in the usual haunts was followed by a few hours around the pubs in Brno 🇨🇿 and an afternoon wander around Kolín, our first visit. A nicer place than immediately meets the eye but not a pub town at all.
By evening time we’d made it to Prague and had an evening out in Nusle, for my money one of the more underrated neighbourhoods – no problem as far as I’m concerned, as that keeps the area less touristy with more local life! It was apparent some of my friends were far further gone than I, and by the time we were finishing up they were falling asleep at the bar.
During the trip we met up with members of Czech Beer Fan Club which is an excellent way to make friends and drinking buddies and explore new venues in Prague.
The second trip, also a long weekend was to icy Romania, arriving in the dead of night to Cluj-Napoca 🇷🇴 ahead of a 5AM 3 hour 30 minute train to the city of Oradea 🇷🇴 in the far North West. It seems somewhat insane to think about in hindsight but these are the decisions that seem to make sense at the time. This was a solo mission so I had no guilt to carry except for myself!
Oradea is one of those border cities with very quirky secessionist architecture and well-meaning spurts of EU funding which means a lot of the centre is in a surprisingly good condition. Like most Romanian cities, pub-life during the day is sleepy to non-existent and there really is almost no point even starting until after 6 in the evening. Several cool alternative hangout spots repurposing old buildings made a distinctive impression.
Back in Cluj-Napoca, the options really hadn’t moved on much since our last visit in 2018, and where they had, mainly for the worse. However, trying the door to a dark, quiet and seemingly closed Heltai Folkcentar 🇷🇴 ended up being one of the finds of the year. Raw, totally unpretentious Hungarian culture club with raucous live folk performances, dancing and dirt cheap booze. Highly recommended.
Our return to Andalusia after November 2022’s trip to Málaga, Cordoba and Granada finally won us over to tapas culture. An intimidating and ultra-informal setup makes it less suitable for the uninitiated, particular for solo missions, but experienced as part of a group, it can really work. The intimidating aspect is not having much of a menu, not knowing what half the dishes are called, and not being able to speak much Spanish, while being surrounded by people who do in close proximity. I would advise those of a nervous disposition to steer clear. However, once you get used to the rhythms, you’ll always have a few backup options. Standing and chatting with a caña and something to nibble on in such a casual environment is really something not to be missed.
Seville ties together all of the charms of the other Andalusia cities while also being for a city of its size ridiculously untouristy and un-commercial overall. The old centre is extensive and arch-traditional – while it may not have the range of show-stopping architecture as some, the ensemble and the wider culture is what leaves the impression. We discovered 20+ high quality tapas bars, non-corporate Flamenco venues and some quirky one-offs.
Catholic kitsch can be a treat for the senses and at late-opening Garlochí it was like stepping into a shock exposure therapy version of it!
Easter is always the time for our big trip away of any year, extended this time to 24 days in a sprawling trip across central Europe that started by dipping south from Bratislava to Zagreb before loop-the-looping back to Bratislava working North through Czechia, Germany and exploring Poland.
The first half of the trip was memorable for pleasant spring weather and exploring, from Arnold Schwarzenegger’s museum in Thal to Ptuj Castle and Zagreb’s monumental Mirogoj cemetery. However, while the quantity of good to very good bars piled up, by the half way stage we were left scratching our heads why there hadn’t been a real standout. Normally by that point we’d have discovered a Top 50 contender or two. The best were probably nearer the beginning in Vienna, with the iconic Loos, Trzesniewski & Jazzland 🇦🇹 that had been on the radar for years but only just got to visiting.
The second half of the trip turned bleak with the first full day in Prague being the most continually wet I can remember on my many days spent there. Still, I could think of a few indoor activities, I’m sure you can too.
Turnov was “an experience” of provincial Czech life, a town around the same size as my home town Barton-upon-Humber, which allowed for some interesting juxtapositions. It has an excellent brewery but no good pubs to speak of. The main reason to visit was for the spectacular hiking in ‘Bohemian Paradise’ on the doorstep.
Liberec ended up being another damp squib really, and with it being a Monday, the first ever visit to Zittau was even worse, without even a pub-restaurant open when we visited mid-afternoon. Things picked up in misty Görlitz however, returning to the genuinely lovely Bierblume a wonderful place to while away a couple of hours before the train.
The last leg in Poland was a series of ups and downs – nothing to report in Bydgoszcz or Legnica (pretty shocking given the size of those places) and Poznan was ruined by bad weather with the whole city centre being roadworks, but the city of Torun was marvellous with some interesting bars and breweries too. Warsaw was obviously going to be a tough nut to crack in 3 nights but we managed a very good effort, and Łódź had a novelty factor even if it did lack a standout pub.
After 24 days on the trot of bar exploration it was time for a break of…*checks calendar*….5 days.
Read more about our April travels in our blog entries:
The fixation on Bratislava and Vienna was not by design, it just so happened there was a Saturday morning flight out to Bratislava virtually any time I wanted it for a good price. Over the course of the year that proved too good to resist.
A weekend in Bratislava and Vienna is never going to tire, and combining a family & friends trip worked out nicely. Vienna has proven one of the toughest cities to crack, one where you really need to know your stuff to get the best out of it, and so the earlier visits this year helped pick out the best bits within the limited timeframe. We also got to visit eye-popping little pub Bockshorn, another iconic central Vienna institution, for the first time.
The next visit simply used Vienna as a launchpad to get to Serbia. Our last trip there was in 2013 – where does the time go? It felt right to return but also to see more of the country. A flight to the southern city of Niš was the starting point. Here is where to go to feel a long, long way from home. The classic harsh juxtapositions of dilapidated towerblocks, tacky post-communist capitalism and badly maintained ancient fortress say ‘Balkans’ loud and proud. Nightlife in the centre is loud, fairly unabashed – not particularly interesting or sophisticated but at least people are out enjoying themselves. A brewery taproom in the residential area proved the highlight.
A long trip to Belgrade followed, somehow still being better served by bus than train. Aching limbs as I exited the bus to steamy temperatures and the view of really one of Europe’s mind-blowingly ugly cities. One thing Belgrade does have going for it is a diverse range of bars – from the Cetinjska semi-ruin bar type complex in the centre, the sprawl of brewery taprooms and craft beer venues in Dorćol, the revived ex-industrial chic of Sava Mala, and Vračar the ‘Vinohradsky’ of Belgrade, if you like. Be prepared to do miles of walking if like me, navigating the public transport and tipping proved impossible.
Ironically, the two closest cities are best served by train, an implausibly space-age, smooth and lightning fast trip to Novi Sad felt almost underwhelming after the Balkan autobus epic between Niš and Novi Sad. I’d only passed through Novi Sad once before in 2013 and it looked an absolute sh*thole, but careful research since showed that was simply first impressions left by the bus station area (and aren’t they nearly always like that). Novi Sad was the standout of the trip with a more progressive vibe, proper alternative hangouts, a friendly low-key atmosphere and – if you include Petrovaradin fortress across the river, an impressive overall ensemble of monuments and architecture. It won’t be on many people’s to-do lists, but it should be. Some great bars in the shape of Graffiti,Crni Ovan and Foxtrot to name only the real standouts.
I ended up stuck there an additional night by accident due to there being no buses or transport of any kind between Novi Sad and Osijek in Croatia, highlighting the economic futility of nationalism. Osijek is a large city close by yet has two buses a week. Embarrassing. Left at the bus station in a comically apt thunderstorm getting soggy and trying to use the spots of good wifi to work out what to do, the obvious answer was stay in Novi Sad until the next bus out of there.
After all that effort to reach Osijek I actually left straight away to Pécs in Hungary – accessible via two connecting trains – not that difficult but definitely out in the middle of nowhere if anything went wrong. Pécs is a historic city with Roman and Eastern influence and for a brief 10-15 minute walk you’ll be very impressed by its centre. As with most Hungarian cities these days you’ll find some good quality courtyard and quasi-ruin pubs and a couple of craft beer venues. The flipside, you’ll also find a couple of really old-school surviving outfits that have barely changed since the 1950s. Enough to keep you going.
The trip ended back in Osijek – a weird city with two centres – a historic centre and a downtown – separated by a long walk, neither of which feel like they’re quite active enough to justify that. However it also has a tram system and you’re scratching your head trying to work out whether it’s an important place or not. Bar options are limited but some pricey craft beer bars will keep you afloat.
I reached a ‘what to do/where to go’ state of boredom in June and decided to return to Kraków yet again because frankly, why not when there’s Kazimierz, the neighbourhood with the highest density of good bars in Europe, and a city that’s in my top 3 all-round European destinations anyway.
To apply at least some novelty to the visit I took the train to Katowice for the afternoon, playing on retro PCs at their incredibly good volunteer-led computer museum and then heading to their bars. There’s a pretty predictable Polish spread of craft beer venues (including cask options) and those stylish vintage/antiquey bars.
Back in Kraków, staying near Błonia gave opportunity to try a few new bars out near there, the best of which was the terrific Café Szafe which was having some bizarre summer festival celebration with hay on the floor and partygoers wearing meadow flowers and hats. It is one of their almost permanently open bars which is sleepy 85% of the time before bursting into life in the small hours of the morning. This blurry shot I took seems to sum up the experience.
July
Places visited: 🇨🇿 Prague, Kutná Hora, Karlovy Vary, Cheb, 🇩🇪 Weiden, Windischeschenbach, Neustadt an der Waldnaab, Neuhaus an der Waldnaab, Falkenberg, Nuremberg, Bamberg, Dörfleins, Forchheim, Erlangen, Munich, Freising
Venue of the month: Beim Käck´n, Neuhaus an der Waldnaab
What were intended as two trips morphed into one as personal plans and friends collided, so a voyage through Bohemia and Bavaria ended up as a summer holiday of sorts.
Prague was Prague – different experiencing it in mid-30 celsius temperatures, but the core appeal is the same. We had a wonderful time and expanded the guide further. Tourist trips to Kutna Hora and Karlovy Vary were necessary – they are not great pub towns though. Likewise a lunch stop in Cheb, somewhere I’d last visited in 2016 was a stop along the way.
The German leg of the trip was going to feature something totally different. Our first visit to the Oberpfalz to experience Zoigl culture. Wonderful rural hospitality, communal brewing and cheap prices characterise the Zoigl experience which is not to be missed. These venues open their doors on rotation only once a month, so you have to consult a calendar to avoid disappointment. It was well worth the effort. For any beer fans particularly, this should go down as a bucket list experience.
On the flipside, the much-vaunted Annafest in Forchheim’s Kellerwald proved to be a let-down. I had hoped it would be a smaller scale, less tacky and palatable Oktoberfest. Wrong. Price-gouging, an almost total absence of the supposed folk-culture underpinning the festival, and corporate crap all the way didn’t justify the toll on your body of swigging 1l steinkrugs of Festbier. The only notable element was going on a tour of Neder‘s centuries-old Keller dug under the hill, where the medieval breweries used to store their beer. If you want my advice, visit Forchheim itself and do so any other time of the year where you can find better beer for literally half the price of Annafest in good pubs with good cheer, likewise to visit the Kellerwald on a sunny day outside festival season.
We returned to Bamberg where we ticked off a few more breweries and explored the scene behind the scene – excellent bars that are mentioned only in passing after the beer halls. We also returned to Nuremberg, however there has not been much development in its bar scene in the last few years outside of Tucher’s revival of Opernhaus restaurant and the former Bar Fusser. A day in Erlangen, our first trip there was predictably low-key, however it is not without its charms.
The trip ended in Munich – a stay not long enough to justify getting too adventurous while simultaneously long enough to become bored by the central options. Remind me not to go back to that Tegernsee beer hall again.
Read more aboutZoiglkultur in our feature article on the subject, very much a passion project of ours now.
Venue of the month: The Pineapple, Kentish Town, London
The only month in 2023 without taking a trip to continental Europe, which always seems fair enough when the weather’s better in England anyway and prices skyrocket in tourist season abroad.
London gave us a chance to explore two neglected areas – Camden & Kentish Town, and Borough where several pubs were long overdue a visit, and nearly all were standouts. What really surprised us, even closer to central London is how overstated the old chestnut about London’s beer pricing is. If you steer clear of certain chains and certain areas we found many pubs still serving cask ale at well under £5 a pint which is not too much more than you’d pay in other major English cities including in the North.
We also visited our first Desi Pub, The Glad which had been in the news due to David Jesudason’s guide published by CAMRA. A friendly, inclusive pub with good ales, cricket on TV, and very tasty food. Throw in the terrace and live music events and you’ve got yourself a cracking boozer.
September
Places visited: 🇵🇹 Funchal, Foz do Douro, Lisbon, Porto
Hiking is one of our other major interests and a trip to Madeira offered excellent hiking (unfortunately not so excellent public transport). Funchal is a compact and reasonably fun city beyond the crowds of pensioners that it is stereotyped for – however don’t expect Ibiza style parties. The nightlife is split between new wave craft bars, bland café terraces and old-school tapas joints – the kind where there’s one weather-beaten dude trundling back and forth with cheap booze and snacks. Madeira is also famous for its eponymous fortified wine and Poncha, a sweet boozy concoction that leans towards its sub-tropical fruit. Both can be experienced at two of its better venues.
Lisbon was a first visit since 2014! Can you believe that? Possibly the highlight of the year, we had the best night out with first time experiences at bars possibly since our first ever visit to Bruges or Kraków – that good. The Luis Pinto Coelho bars are incredibly good and unmissable, A Ginjinha is a ritual and an institution, there are some nice brewery taps in the suburbs and that’s before you get to the music of the Alfama district – which at least we had experienced before. Lisbon’s nightlife really is one of the highlights of being a European, I cannot say anymore high praise than that.
The visit to Porto was the first since 2018. What a distinctive city it is, and I’d be happy with it even if the bar options were wretched. It isn’t Lisbon, but you’ll find enough to keep yourself occupied if not in depth then in variety.
The first of three very similar trips treading along a familiar route. Svitavy was the only new place visited, an attractive town on the train route between Brno and Prague. Do not go there for pubs though – offerings are thin on the ground. After visiting a quiet neighbourhood pub near closing and the town brewpub, we ended up in a basement Herna bar off the main square playing pool with the remaining night hawks!
In Prague we explored 6 years ago’s bright young thing, the district of Vršovice, particularly the pubs and bars around Krymska street. Lots of decent bars, although perhaps lacking that ‘iconic’ one to underpin a night out there. What’s pleasing is you can still find a few rough-and-ready boozers as well as the arch-hipster Kavarnas and craft places all in the same area.
The following day, we returned to the classic iconic pubs of central Prague…
Back at home we explored the inbetweeny bits in the conurbation between Bradford and Leeds, particularly Ossett Brewery’s pubs, while a trip to Newcastle and Whitley Bay provided pleasure in old classics and new finds. We also took a trip to Wigan for the first time to its 2 excellent station pubs.
November
Places visited: 🇸🇰 Bratislava 🇨🇿 Brno, Tišnov, Prague, Zlín, Malenovice, Olomouc, 🏴 Manchester, York, 🇮🇪 Dublin 🇪🇪 Tallinn
Two further trips to Czechia/Slovakia followed in November, the more notable being to the southern city of Zlín, a city more or less built from the ground up at the beginning of the socialist era, with a layout that you’ll find vastly different from Czech towns you’ll be used to. There are some lovely pubs scattered around though, and if you want a tourist-free experience, you’ll find one here.
We squeezed in tours around Manchester and York before an exciting first time trip to Tallinn, Estonia that had eluded us for years due to a lack of options from Northern airports. We managed it by flying to Dublin on Friday night, then getting a 5am flight out to Tallinn.
Arriving in snow and -8 degrees Celsius conditions was great for me – honestly I love winter weather, and this turned Tallinn into an icy, dreamlike wonderland. Tallinn’s bar scene is diverse – something for everyone, but missing what you’d call a continuing theme. Valli Baar is a perfect starter – you’ll make friends with whoever’s sat next to you, while there are several adequate modern brewpubs of varying shades of familiar cookie cutter interiors, none of which have really caught alight from a social scene point of view. Prices are virtually identical to England these days – it has long ceased to be a cheapo Eastern Europe destination and I bet in 5 years time it will be closer to Scandinavian prices while people will be visiting England for a poverty pint. A wonderful long weekend, I can only recommend going to Tallinn.
Discussions about the final trip of 2023 reached a compromise. I was keen to take friends to Tirana 🇦🇱 but settled on Gdansk. Although I’d been to Poland a lot this year (too often really) I hadn’t been to Gdansk since 2015 so it justified another visit.
The snow hadn’t yet cleared so it was a wintery, Christmassy arrival to the city. I must say the centre remains wonderfully atmospheric and something I probably didn’t take in or give enough credit to back in 2015.
Gdansk’s pub situation isn’t like Kazimierz in Kraków where you’re invariably within spitting distance of the next great pub, but the centre has a handful of more than tolerable options, most of which have either great craft beer or superior lager available. What people overlook is the development of bars in the Tricity area. A 10 minute suburban train to Wrzeszcz (Say it like Vrr-jesh-ch) unlocks a host of new bars to explore which are not exactly next door to each other but show a young local population enjoying their own scene away from tourists. It really is worth checking out.
Cities With Most New Guide Entries: Seville 🇪🇸, Zagreb 🇭🇷, Prague 🇨🇿
Best value drink: 0.5l Zoiglbier for 2.50 euros at Beim Käck´n, Neuhaus an der Waldnaab 🇩🇪
Cheapest drink: 29 crowns for Staropramen at Hospudka U Baby in Prague 🇨🇿
Award for Most Things Crammed Into A Room: Tie between La Java Café, St. Malo 🇫🇷 and Bockshorn, Vienna 🇦🇹
Nicest Surprise: Novi Sad 🇷🇸
Biggest Letdown: Bydgoszcz 🇵🇱
Worst Product vs Experience ratio: Põhjala Brewery & Tap Room, Tallinn 🇪🇪
In Summary…and hopes for 2024!
Of the possibly 450+ venues we visited in 2023 for the first time 256 were worthy of an addition to our guide. This expansion has required a lot of work to add to our maps and profiles, but it really fleshes out our offer to become arguably the single best resource on the internet to find the best of the best pubs and bars in Europe. That’s something to be proud of.
Our profile has also grown: for instance we were invited to be interviewed by Evan Rail for VinePair in an article considering the distinctive curio that is the Station Pub.
We’ve also featured in many local newspaper websites, one recent example being during our visit to Sunderland earlier this year. We’re hoping that will continue.
Site traffic came close to tripling in views and visitors versus 2022, which are all good signs leading to 2024.
Our biggest ambition for 2024 is to finish two e-books we’re working on, and to cover a few glaring holes in our map. So far we can confirm we’ll be visiting Strasbourg, Edinburgh, Finland, Salzburg, Passau and rural Czechia in 2024, but that really is just the start.
We hope we’ve given you assistance and enjoyment, as well as inspiration! All the best from here at EBG towers for a Happy New Year!
For the next 5 days we would visit the pubs and bars of Brno & Prague, go hiking in the Český ráj (Bohemian Paradise), visiting Turnov & Liberec in Czechia 🇨🇿 before navigating the borderlands of Zittau, Görlitz inGermany 🇩🇪 then Zgorzelec & Legnica in Poland. 🇵🇱
Day 1 – Planes, Trains & a Šalina named Desire – Brno & Prague
After a very boozy evening with our Zagreb 🇭🇷 pal , followed by a cripplingly early start to the airport I wasn’t feeling all that great on landing in Bratislava 🇸🇰. Arrival early and in the pouring rain we headed for an omelette and a lemonade in efforts to perk up. Semi-successful. A 50 minute delay on the train to Brno didn’t improve matters as we kicked around the cold damp station concourse of one of Europe’s less pleasing stations, but eventually we were away.
Our 2nd visit to Brno🇨🇿 this year after our January trip, and something like 8th occasion in this lovely city, it is nice turning up somewhere already knowing where things are and how to get to them – not least when the rain is absolutely hammering down. Good old April 🌧️!
Such conditions require safety first decision making, meaning an umpteenth trip to Pivovar Pegas 🇨🇿 for lunch and a beer (but equally important warmth and dry). Stolidity is an underrated quality on such occasions. Traditional with more of a pubby feel than perhaps even the creators initially intended, they churn out a core range of beers which vary from alright to surprisingly good, with a roster of seasonal specials. Food is city centre prices and decent enough.
Once fed and watered, I emerged to find the rain easing off, the city itself quiet aside the tram stops. Brno’s term for trams is Šalina, which is nearer in terminology to ‘Streetcar’. As with most of central Europe these are very useful, normally in good condition, quick, clean and cheap, all allowing people to explore far more – I can’t encourage their usage enough. A few stops up the road dropped us off at one of Brno’s cult pubs, almost the first name that comes off people’s lips when you mention Brno boozers: Hostinec U Bláhovky 🇨🇿 .
This place has a draw. After a first experience here, if you find yourself even in the same region you feel an almost magnetic pull to head there for a pint. Pilsner Urquell is not the standard beer in Brno as it is in Prague, the picture is mixed. Aside of Stopkova in the city centre, this is the next known place for it, something recognised in Prazdroj’s ‘Legend Tapster’ series, with one of the acclaimed individuals pouring the beers at Bláhovky.
Rather than being a big beer hall, this is a neighbourhood pub on a corner. You’ll encounter the regulars on a table adjacent to a bar, groups of people who know each other well, the great, good and everyone next on the rank. On weekends you’ll find a queue of people outside in preparation for opening. A beer is assumed unless you make an interjection, and this can be enjoyed on the stand/na stojaka by the bar or sat on high tables opposite or the backroom. The local life and the ingrained rhythm of service is special, this is a truly outstanding bar in Europe that made this year’s Top 100.
On a limited timeframe, we had time to squeeze in three more venues before our journey to Prague 🇨🇿 . We prioritised seeing somewhere we hadn’t been to before and two venues we hadn’t been to for a few years. Starting at U všech svatých (The All Saints) 🇨🇿, we were keen to revisit on account of not really exploring the pub properly. Multi-room with mid-brown wood panelling and large religious prints, this is a Poutník pub with their regular light lager and its unfiltered version on tap, both at very reasonable prices. The service was kind, even giving a smile as I launched into the few exchanges in Czech I can handle without difficulty. They have rather shot themselves in the foot by only having one enormous stamgast table at the bar, which kind of rules that room out as being a social focal point when no-one is there. But the pub is likeable, naturally likeable, almost with a bit of underdog spirit, local charm, quite versatile too. And the beer… good grief, it was every bit as tasty as it looks.
A change of scenery followed as we walked back to Brno’s central square, the Cabbage Market, Zelný trh to Air Café 🇨🇿, our 1st visit here. By no means a beer bar, this central bar specialises in spirits and has a theme, decorated with WWII memorabilia to recognised British and Czech co-operation in the war. Service and the atmosphere is international, it felt like the bar guy would rather have conversed in English. I did enjoy the fact my small beer (Fagan, from a small Moravian brewery) was poured schnitt-style with a big head. Kudos to the bartender for that. The venue deserves an inclusion to the guide, and offers something a little bit different.
Further train delays meant only one thing – further beer. Somewhere quick, somewhere close by – ah! Pivnice u Poutnika 🇨🇿. Among Brno’s cult venues, a Pivnice with classic grumpy mute tapster, the curved ceilings and net curtains, but a slightly wilder knockabout vibe. An evening hangout, not somewhere to go for a meal or a date, put it that way. It’s name is instructive – they serve Poutník, and it’s bloody fantastic. When you get nice vibes in a virtually empty pub you know you’re somewhere pretty good. I know you’ll look at the below and think ‘what’s all the fuss about?’ – Trust me.
Having slightly overindulged, a 3 hour train journey probably wasn’t the worst outcome in order to sober up, or perhaps snooze it off. A relatively quiet train allowed for that, and it was early evening by the time we alighted at Praha hl. n and made our way to Žižkov district to check into our accommodation, drop bags off and relax for a few hours.
Our approach to exploring Prague bars these days is as follows: hit a few of the absolutely non-negotiable core venues, revisit one or two lesser visited, and find a few new venues. This keeps a nice balance of familiar trusty rewards, risks and novelty value.
With the weather brightening up, a walk along the Royal Route from the Powder Tower to the Old Town square and along Karlova to Charles Bridge and through Mala Strana up Nerudova to Prague Castle offers an entirely free and infinitely repeatable way to be astounded by mankind’s creations (not the pedestrians).
On the way, we attempted, perhaps foolishly, to get a seat at a table in U Zlatého tygra 🇨🇿, without luck. It would take another 2 tries on our trip before we succeeded.
Normally the next selection would be something like U Medvidku, U Vejvodu or U Rudolfina, all nearby, but I was in the mood to go straight for the bullseye. On entry to a Top 100 Bar in Europe,U Hrocha, 🇨🇿 things didn’t look any more promising in terms of seating, but the atmosphere was terrific, and I engineered – awkwardly – a leaning post in one of the niches. The server was struggling with the swell of people and it was difficult to get people’s attention, but I eventually secure the treasured Pilsner, which at the time of writing cost 49 crowns, unreal in that part of Prague. Bustling and glowing with that steam you get on wet evenings in warm rooms, this was the pub reaching its zenith – it was just a shame no-one else was with us to enjoy those moments.
The climb up to Hradčany, Prague’s Castle Hill is usually followed by the reward: a beer at U Černého vola 🇨🇿. This time however it was not to be, with no spaces opening up on the tables inside. More than a little frustrating given there aren’t exactly a ton of pubs up at the top of there. In fact it was a rare occasion where on a trip to Prague we didn’t manage a visit.
Tram #22 from Pohorelec stop is the way out from there. You can drop down and round back to where you started, or head west, which is what we chose to do, in search of a pub that had eluded us for years: Majk L’Atmosphere 🇨🇿
Originally recommended by Pivni Filosof Max Bahnson in his 2015 edition of Pisshead’s Guide To Prague. Several years have passed including Covid, with a period of silence as to this bars operation. I noticed it had also moved, though not far, across the other side of the road. Initially we were worrying it had gone altogether.
The place is clandestine to say the least, the exterior doesn’t exactly scream “come in”, although as you approach the door the sound of drunkenness bleeds through. On entrance, something of a madhouse. Cackling old server with frozen perm, a group of rastafarians, and one or two others smoking. Another venue which gets around Prague’s smoking ban by turning themselves into a club, in the most ad hoc way possible. Ring the bell, be buzzed in. Ta-da!
I chose a table adjacent to the bar, somewhat appropriate for my rubbernecking rather than deep dive into this culture. Before long a guy started up conversation with me – who revealed after 10 minutes he was the owner. Florian has run the place for the last few years and was interested both in my efforts to learn Czech and the fact I knew one of his beer suppliers, Pavel Kyslousek who brews at Pivovar Olešná. Oh yes, despite the bar giving off no promising vibes whatsoever about good beer, they actually stock a beer on tap from one of Czechia’s modern facing little independent breweries. Go figure!
One of those memorable down n’ dirty dive bars, an experience you can only have through taking a risk, stepping into the weird looking room.
Not that the weirdness was about to stop. After this I decided to go further away from the centre. When you’re used to the tram movements, honestly, nothing phases you about getting around this city. U Prezidentů 🇨🇿 is a true one off. A family-run hospoda in a genteel and very un-pubby neighbourhood that has taken a step further and turned the space into a plush living room covered in portraits of previous presidents along with graffiti and scrawled excoriations of many of them. The elderly gentleman is kind and runs the show in a hospitable fashion that is just not taught these days. This was our 3rd visit and what really stood out this time is how much the owners actually enjoy what they do.
Several beers in now, I had to refer to our list of tweets and camera footage to confirm what happened next: Minirest 🇨🇿 happened! This place is convenient as hell – it is located yards away from Náměstí Republiky and Masarykovo nádraží and stays open until 2am most days. This helps stitch together bar crawls very well. The interior, curved ceilings aside, is no great shakes, but the beer is excellent, focusing on offerings from small independent brewers, the atmosphere is always intimate and social, and there’s usually football/hockey on TV. The bar guy is pretty gruff, but it’s Prague where anything else is actually notable.
So endeth Day 1 in Czechia.
Day 2 – The day the rain turned to rain…
From the point of waking up to falling asleep it did not stop, mostly persistent, heavy rain, sometimes easing to simply ‘rain’. I can’t remember in the last 10 years a day I spent abroad that was so unrelenting. However, where better to find oneself in such a situation than Prague? City of indoor activities – boozy ones!
After a tactical lie-in, I figured it was best to visit some fresh target venues today, starting with a soggy walk up the hill to U Mariánského obrazu 🇨🇿. This came after some quite persistent recommending on Czech Beer Fan Club. I found it a decent diner with a local crowd, good food at honest prices in a very familiar feeling setting. Think of places such as U Veverky that do similar. One thing it was not though, was a pub. It’s an eatery! This is not really somewhere you’d go to hang out during the day and was a little lacking.
Sated in the stomach, if nothing else, I decided to make the next venue an out-and-out boozer, Hostinec na Schůdku 🇨🇿 It was not a long walk away, and on approach it looked promising. Telltale Gambrinus signage and a personalised look. Unfortunately, on entry it was obvious it had received a bland renovation, spoiling things. Even some of the Bohemians signage I had seen online had been removed. And then the wifi wasn’t working, leaving me with a handful of mute customers and a jar of Gambrinus (I wasn’t all that keen on drinking it), yet trapped there until I did. Not a bad place exactly, but not up to the mark for our guide.
After two strikeouts it was time to go somewhere that delivers over and over again: U Sadu 🇨🇿. Too much written about it already to say anything new, but the main pub room was as always, a timeless dusty and atmospheric experience even during a quiet rainy afternoon.
A break from beer and bars followed with some classic Prague tourist stuff and a rest. The plan was to have an earlier evening out rather than the heavy two previous days. We were going somewhere new though, to Dva Kohouti 🇨🇿 a brewpub that’s one of Prague’s hippest, happening and all other fuddy-sounding adjectives that betray my latent prejudice and my guilt through feeling out of touch at being disinterested in visiting a US-style brewery taproom in Prague. I was however still interested in their beer and understanding why the place is popular.
Karlin is generally the test-bed neighbourhood in Prague for whatever globalised derivatives they are attempting, financed by whatever unimaginative businessmen can see already happening in America. This is fair enough – the locals want more than simply Czech restaurants, and to be honest, the taproom itself is a welcome addition, no matter how unexcited I may have been by the unimaginative décor, an exclusively middle class white crowd and amusingly expensive prices (64kc for 0.4l of the house lager brewed on site – effectively £4 for a pint in Prague. Guys, it’s tasty, but it’s not that good).
The summary: You’ll have been to somewhere like this before, it’s clean, it’s shiny, there are tasty beers. It’s fine. If you’re seeking a little bit of a distinctive experience with your product, maybe head elsewhere. We did.
I was keen to get back to Prague’s roots after that, and took a first visit to the trad Pilsner Pivnice Na Mělníku 🇨🇿 in the district of Holešovice. This simple boozer ain’t changing for no-one, with its time-worn cream walls, dark chunky furniture and round after round of decent Pilsner Urquell keeping the customers happy. While a familiar format this is a likeable bolthole with varied custom that’s enough off the tourist trail to feel like a genuine local’s pub.
Keeping our eyes on the prize, next stop was Hangar Pub & Pivotéka🇨🇿 a short walk into Letna. Still raining, by the way. This venue benefits from the classic Czech hospoda arrangement, social space simply furnished in a half-step basement, a layout that encourages cross-table chat and feels neighbourly even in a city centre. The beers were so-so, not all that great value either, however this was complimented by an eye-catching selection in the fridge. Service was by Prague’s standard warm and welcoming which helped. Their airplane theme adds an identity without smothering the place, so all-in-all, tastefully done little pub that we added to our guide.
This part of Prague is going through a really hot patch, and I’d recommend it as having just as many good pubs in number as the Old Town and Malá Strana put together. Yes, some of the venues don’t have that sense of history and institution but they ably compensate in their authenticity, the absence of tourist churn and perhaps less focus on food too. Our next stop was a classic example, our first visit to Na Sekyrce. 🇨🇿Personalised, local and social, this is very much about local gossip and the social connections people there have, one of those pubs that becomes more than just the sum of its parts and we were convinced to include it on our guide.
After a long day out we had a long rest and, with the weather unrelenting, only popped down to the neighbourhood pub U Járy 🇨🇿 near our apartment for a pint, which was ticking along, server jolly as ever. The visit was perhaps our final chance to taste Pardubický Porter, a creation that has a history of being a celebration beer in Czechia in the years prior to revolution when the choice available was so much more limited. The brewery has been closed down by their parent owners and while they are persisting brewing some of their brands off-site, this one is unlikely to be anything other than a very occasional limited edition brew. A sad day for all concerned. At this pub, this very strong 8% abv beer was always available for pennies.
Day 3 – Final day in Prague
So far, a proper seat at some of Prague’s more famous venues had eluded me. Keen to put that right, an early start and walk in Petrin park was sufficient to work up a thirst ahead of arrival at U Hrocha 🇨🇿 shortly after opening time. This time I didn’t have to hide under some niche like a guilty interloper, but secured a table facing the taps, one of the best seats in the house. Wolfie wasn’t on taps this time but I recognised the other geezer from previous visits.
Dropping down the hill next, we checked out a café bar that’s been gathering plenty of attention and rave reviews: Roesel 🇨🇿. This is a modern venue although in a historic building. You enter via an alley and work your way to the back of a small courtyard, entering a room with a curved ceiling. These guys serve up to date beers and a good standard of basic Czech pub food that’s purposefully tuned up a notch. While inevitably attracting a certain segment that you might call the Instagram crowd, that’s not too distracting. This is definitely a place where individual groups keep themselves to themselves, it is not as social a venue for mixing, and it narrowly missed a guide inclusion – probably for that reason alone. Enjoyed it – the interior and experience was better than the pictures make it look.
After this we were marking time until the opening of The Golden Tiger, U Zlatého tygra 🇨🇿 at 3pm, but doing so in two of the old town’s best pubs, U Rotundy 🇨🇿 and U Medvidku 🇨🇿. These stalwarts offer reliable, slightly different experiences. U Rotundy is a frozen in time hospoda with simple and basic wares, sport on telly and a scruffy, but friendly tapster. Medvidku is a giant beer hall equipped to deal with inundations of people, but is a perfectly decent place to stop for a pint – they also brew their own beers.
Finally it was time – not quite – 2.40pm which is about the time you need to be joining the queue outside U Zlatého tygra 🇨🇿 to ensure a seat. Once open you have effectively 2 hours until the table reservations start kicking in, after which your chances of getting sat down reduce dramatically. You’ll be guided to a place by the server – be sure to take a look around because unless you’re with a group of people, these folks are your drinking buddies for the next two hours. I had a group of Finns to my left who were friendly and inquisitive, and a Prague resident with a Mongolian he had befriended in the queue. This is the joy of the place. There can be frustrating aspects, sure, but among the throng you become initiated, time slides away, you’ll be lucky to escape without necking shy of three Pilsners, often many more. Simply one of Europe’s best pubs.
Even though the beers were padded down securely by a round of Ďábelské topinky at The Golden Tiger, it was still time for a well earned rest.
In the evening we made a couple of first time visits in the Žižkov district. Unijazz 🇨🇿 is a café bar/Kavárna/bookish type event space with predictably warm, friendly service. The interior is homely with huge rugs and vintage furniture, and the audience were a predictable crowd of post-grads. Their beer selection is decent, more similar to the independent options you tend to find in Brno. Although it didn’t grab me by the scruff of the neck, I still quite liked it and it was only a few tiny points away from an inclusion.
The next venue is too much of a well-known pub in Žižkov to not have ever visited. While I wasn’t entirely convinced it would make the guide, it deserved at try: Planeta Žižkov 🇨🇿 is the epitome of an all-rounder. Yes, it does everything reasonably well to a good standard. It’s quite pubby and certainly popular. The decoration won’t last long in the memory but good service and social environment is on offer. Not distinctive enough to earn a guide recommendation but as a fallback option it will serve well.
Day 4 – Český ráj – Bohemian Paradise
Part of our trip was intended to explore the national park Český ráj, reachable by train from Prague in a couple of hours via the town of Turnov. The journey became extended due to a rail replacement service from Mlada Boleslav, meaning we arrived a little later than planned. However, we were still able to catch the train and walk from Ktova through the famous rock formations at Hrubá Skála to the clifftop chateau of Hrad Valdštejn with enough time to return before the rain – and possibly thunderstorm – set in. It is a truly beautiful as well as distinctive and unusual area with little caverns and crevasses to explore, and rocks towering above and below you.
On our way back to Turnov we passed by the village of Mašov, making sure to check the local pub situation. Hospůdka Sokolovna Mašov 🇨🇿 is part social club, part pub with darts, three cushion pool, and community events. The beer (Svijany & Rohozec) was as expected, very cheap and the welcome was reasonable, all things considered. While the pub won’t enter our guide it was nonetheless a bit of a living museum to a particularly local experience.
A review of Turnov’s nightlife did not look promising and to make matters worse, it was a Sunday too. However, even in smaller towns you can generally expect to find a local brewery (Pivovar) and their taproom, which was no different here. Dinner and a very tasty pint at the modern, warm, but rather angular and sterile taproom Turnovská pivnice Slavie 🇨🇿 kicked things off. There was about as much socialising going on there as the local graveyard and a couple of the young staff were a little too staring and rude.
The subsequent ‘choices’ weren’t selections so much as finding anywhere that was open. Things were about to get very local and a little bit too much so as we wandered across the bridge to Hospoda Stará Smrt, 🇨🇿 translating to ‘Old Death’. I certainly received a slice of that from the woman serving, not through any lack of etiquette on my part. Mustering all my Czech pleasantries – greeting the staff as I arrived, ordering politely and asking if a table was free, and in return receiving a barely veiled hostile stare. It tells you how important welcome is to a pub, because if she’d been pleasant I may have considered including this raw, unvarnished and entirely authentic smoky pajzl. A community of grizzled locals, yet another three cushion pool table (what’s going on in this part of the world), a seriously cheap pint, but no feeling I could be at ease.
After this there was virtually nothing left. I passed by the empty and beginning to closeBAR ne BAR. That was somewhere of close to zero interest so carried on until reaching Barrel Bar 🇨🇿. This competent late night bar specialised in rum, while also offering pivo of course, but other than the clique involving the bartender’s friends, there were no customers and it generally reeked of all the bad elements of provinciality.
A last ditch effort to salvage a guide entry in Turnov was made, walking to a pub with virtually no online presence or recent reviews in just the mere hope it might be open. For all the world I assumed it had been shuttered long ago, but then as I drew near – the lights were on at Hostinec V Zatáčce 🇨🇿. On entry there was an old woman working the taps and two paralytic customers. I quickly gleaned it was closing time and nodded as the tapster confirmed as much. While I didn’t see much to write home about it is good news the pub remains open for a town not endowed with many choices.
That was that – in lieu of a great pub we could at least get an early night and prepare for a long day of travel ahead.
Day 5 – Liberec 🇨🇿, Zittau 🇩🇪, Görlitz 🇩🇪, Legnica🇵🇱
A hop step and jump is required when trying to get from Czechia to Poland. A row of mountain ranges and lack of huge cities make most border arrangements long and without much backup if things go wrong. The simplest way from Turnov to Poland happened to be via Germany.
First, a train to Liberec, a city we had visited once before in 2018 to visit the incredible town hall and Jested tower in the snow. In slightly warmer weather this time we saw nothing to divert us from Radniční sklípek 🇨🇿, the town hall’s beer cellar run by Svijany brewery.
Back in 2018 I felt the venue was useful rather than a great pub, but on this occasion I was able to see beyond the utility to what is a truly beautiful premises which has been well restored to show off stained glass, a curved, cloistered ceiling and candelabras, which along with the beer offerings (including 2 unpasteurised tank poured options) is an opulent venue that if placed somewhere like Prague would be busy every day. Despite the plum location the daily menu remains fair value and as it serves predominantly locals, it has to make the price fit the wallet.
I made a vain attempt to locate any other sort of pub or drinking hole between here and the train station, but it was futile, in fact it also caused me to miss my connection by maybe 30 seconds as I ran to the platform to see the train in motion, departing.
I was soon enough on the train to Zittau though, a beautiful little town. It was Monday mid-afternoon so expectations were low for pubs, but I figured there would at least be a competent Wirthaus or Gaststätte open. But it was worse than that – there was nothing! All I could do was look at Café Filmriß🇩🇪 in the market square and dream about it being any other day and time.
Rather than hanging around for a miracle, we moved onto Görlitz. Our 2nd visit there, one of the most beautiful towns in Germany and possibly the most beautiful in Saxony. As we discovered, it is also rather middle-aged and staid, not a great combination for a vibrant nightlife.
After a tip-off we visited Sud Ost 🇩🇪, a café and minibrewery for the first time. As so often happens, the product was good – very good, the service was friendly and helpful, but the venue was awfully lacking, without social space, too many high chairs and the problem was acute enough that I barely found the place to be eligible, let alone other considerations because it is more like a coffee shop.
There is however a jewel in Görlitz which comes in the shape of Bierblume 🇩🇪. Here you can have home brewed beer but in a truly comfortable, cosy, friendly and all-round lovely environment in a historic old town building yards from the Polish border. 4 years ago I had popped by and spent an evening drinking the proprietor’s strong Dunkles bier with a Polish friend, and again this time, once seated it was very hard to even consider leaving. There was also no motive to, as it was 3 hours until the train from Zgorzelec (the Polish sister town of Görlitz) to Legnica was due. Sit back, relax, drinking Zoigl and Hefeweizen. Delighted to report this place goes from strength to strength.
Eventually time comes calling, and I reached Poland on foot from the footbridge over the Neisse, with a half hour walk to Zgorzelec station as the mist of the evening rolled in.
The Polish city of Legnica is halfway between Görlitz and Wrocław. It isn’t somewhere we’d been previously but appealed due to some nice postcards of the churches and the restored tenement houses in the centre. As it is, Legnica was a reasonable evening stop-off but I doubt we’ll be back any time soon.
On a Monday night bar choices were going to be a challenge, as it proved. Legnicki Browar 🇵🇱 , the typical ‘brewery taproom’ was open as we passed from the station to check into our apartment, but closed when we returned 40 minutes later. With other options closed due to being Monday, this left a selection of chain bars, namely Piwiarna Warka 🇵🇱, Pijalnia Wodki i Piwo 🇵🇱 and Ministerstwo Śledzia i Wódki 🇵🇱, the latter of which was by far the best. Yes, mainstream and towny but with a pleasing nostalgia-retro décor and some actual nightlife action going on.
The step down from drinking excellent Czech and German beer hours earlier was brutal, the Warka even by its own dismal standards one of the worst single beers I’ve ever had that was clearly meant to be as it was.
Legnica may prove a handy stop off for you at some point and is not without its diverting landmarks either, but it may make most sense to head direct to Wrocław, which is where our story next picks up!
There you have it! Part 3 of 4 of April’s trip. Please join us for Part 4 as we explore Poland 🇵🇱 for the remaining days of our trip, visiting Wrocław, Poznan, Bydgoszcz, Torun, Warsaw and Łódź!
Following 6 days in Austria and Slovenia as covered in Part 1, the next 6 days of our Big Trip of 2023 were spent in Croatia – firstly in Varaždin then the capital Zagreb!
Day 1 – Ptuj 🇸🇮 to Varaždin 🇭🇷 – Rail Replacements on Good Friday?
Unlike the almost seamless border transition by train between Graz 🇦🇹 and Maribor 🇸🇮, crossing the border from Ptuj 🇸🇮 into Croatia 🇭🇷 looked wooly to say the least. One of the spectacularly pointless elements of nationalism is making larger settlements that are in close proximity poorly connected – the Balkans is a particularly bad example. A 7am train from to Čakovec 🇭🇷 looked like the only option. Then, on inspecting the information online it appeared the train would go no further than somewhere called Ormož 🇸🇮 due to staffing issues and Good Friday. Unfamiliar with the reliability of Croatian rail replacement services, but aware all our eggs were in one basket, we had to try it.
In the end, the switch to the replacement bus was well choreographed by the train conductor, but the bus trundled along, getting us to Čakovec later than planned. A connecting train to Varaždin appeared to be horribly delayed, and the passengers listlessly kicking dust around the station concourse didn’t seem promising. The ticket officer also assured us it wouldn’t be coming and we could only get the next train 2 hours later. Resigned to that, we set off into Čakovec centre to have a look around and kill some time. Except – what is that on the horizon? As the station disappeared behind us, a train emblazoned with Varaždin approached. Running full pelt with full rucksacks, we got back to the platform in literally the nick of time, as the guard was about to blow his whistle. Off we went to Varaždin!
A northern city with an impressive central castle and beautiful Austrian-era old town, we first visited Varaždin in September 2014 where a 10-day festival Špancirfest was in full swing. Memories of cheerful crowds, bunting, huge barbecues, live music on the street and magical courtyards like Julijan’s Apartment 🇭🇷 left rose-tinted spectacles.
It is to be expected that any town goes through its highs and lows, and perhaps being Easter we could hope for something similar. We were wrong – on this year’s visit. Grey, quiet, with a hint of rain in the air, the experience was initially like after the Lord Mayor’s show, the air had been sucked out of the balloon somewhat. Still, after a café stop-off, castle visit and lunch, it was time to inspect the bars – bars we resolutely failed to visit in 2014, 3 years before this site was founded.
The first stop off, one we had recommended to us, was south east of the old town near the park. Medina Škrinja Pub 🇭🇷. Tucked around the rear of the building, you’ll find a pretty unremarkable set of patio furniture used by smokers, and uPVC type entrance, none of which sets off any great vibes. Hang in there though as the interior space opens out into a historic vaulted room, vast and dark. The ‘Bear’s Chest’ is decorated with a large ceiling centrepiece, the eponymous bear with a chest of treasure chained to it. Around the brick interior there are medieval sigils and a general acknowledgement that this is a very old building. The bar enjoys a decent beer selection – only a few that would get any beer geeks purring, but still clearly above average, and even during the afternoon there was a decent clutch of people and plenty of activity at the bar to create adequate atmosphere. We are confident the evening would be even better, and it was an easy inclusion to our guide.
Finally, it had rolled around to 3pm allowing us to check in our apartment, drop off our luggage and have a rest. Our next stop was on the fringes of town, around 25 minutes walk, Picabia Pub 🇭🇷. One of Croatia’s persistent issues is a lack of a pub type feel to its communal social drinking venues. While this place wouldn’t make our guide, it was pleasingly pubby in feel and appearance, the complimentary nuts made it reasonable value and it is basically a spacious neighbourhood hangout of a kind that are in fairly short supply in provincial Croatia.
After a stop for dinner, we looked around the centre in efforts to find Julijan’s Apartment 🇭🇷, only to find that it was closed (for the day, not permanently). Pretty gutting when you average 1 visit to Varaždin every decade.
This left 2 venues remaining, the first being only a semi-promising looking bar called Medonja🇭🇷. Some places perhaps don’t photograph well, and this is one of them. It is true that the main lounge is unnecessarily green, and the bar area is pretty unremarkable. And yet two elements entirely compensated for that. Firstly the surprisingly good beer selection – you are not starved for decent choices, both Croatian and International. Secondly, it is a very effective social space that was on our visit buzzing with people.
A last stop of the evening was to the imaginatively titled Craft Beer Bar 🇭🇷. This guesthouse has converted its entrance hall into a café bar. It’s all done on a budget, with portable keg machines lined in a row below the stairs, the 1 member of staff gamely trying their best to cover orders, but nevertheless a long wait on a Friday night. There is a good social scene here, some interesting local craft beers on offer too, but the bare bones of the bar are somewhat lacking.
Day 2 – Arrival in Zagreb 🇭🇷
Varaždin to Zagreb by train involves a scenic, but very long journey around the villages, so we made the call to get a coach (not exactly quick either). The bus journey, mainly along single lane roads passes along rolling hills and villages, many of which have simple little farmsteads, a few chickens, goats, the odd pig here and there. It’s a good reminder of how fast the Balkans slides into simple rural life outside of the cities.
We spent 3 days in Zagreb on our previous visit, mainly staying rigidly around the old town and the boulevard towards the train station. It is curious looking back how much more closed and conservative our urban exploration was. This time, 5 nights would allow us to explore the city’s suburbs and its different sides.
As per usual, the dead time while waiting to check into our apartment was filled by bars – firstly Swanky Monkey Garden 🇭🇷, a hostel with an attractive modern tiered courtyard and bar – a fairly well executed bit of funkiness.
After that, a beer at the Ilica branch of Pivovar Medvedgrad Illica 🇭🇷 Tucked away off the street in a shopping mall, this is more of a traditional beer hall, with a large garden at the back. It had been a while since our last beer of theirs, back in 2017. What is noticeable is what strides forward they have made with both the traditional and modern beers. This operation is equipped and future-proofed, as far as beers go. In terms of the venue, it is a little too drab in terms of décor and atmosphere, not a place I would want to spend a long time in unless I was eating.
After check-in and a rest, we visited the fun, tragic, disturbing and amusing Museum of Broken Relationships which is worth a first time visit for any tourists.
The evening started with a walk along the Strossmayer boulevard, a treelined route overlooking central Zagreb with a great view of the cathedral at one end, through the old town to Tolkein’s House 🇭🇷, which was shut. We learn it has been closed a while, but may reopen soon. Oddly, the extension to it,Veliki Tolk 🇭🇷 was open. A little sparse on decoration and people, the drinks were fine, service also friendly enough, but we didn’t linger long.
One of the joys of exploring European cities is the prevalence of trams. Zagreb residents seem rather modest about their service. Perhaps theirs may seem inferior to some neighbours but trust the view of this English person with our generally awful urban transport: it’s still damn good. Affordable and comfortable, allowing to whoosh around the city. The pink line heads into the hills, and halfway up towards the cable car is the pubby mini-brewery Pivovara Mlinarica 🇭🇷 (possibly translates as Miller Brewery?). This roadside pub isn’t typical of Croatian drinking venues, with an interior similar to some English or American pub-restaurants. Their beers are really nice, the food and service seems appropriately pubby and my partner really liked it. I’d say it was decent, but it just misses something. We returned later in the trip for a second try, and it still just didn’t cut it. One of the clear disappointments is that the bar area, which should in theory be a social magnet, is far too small. Being tucked away from the main seating areas loses whatever atmosphere it may generate. Yes, these are the careful considerations we make when reviewing bars.
Seeing as we were taking a tram back down the hill, we allowed it to drop us off in the commercial centre, which is a largely familiar, unremarkable set of shopping streets you could place anywhere on Earth. There are plenty of bars and eateries of course, most of which are unremarkable so far as the bar guide is concerned, but we had passed one by chance that looked very different. Another venue we hadn’t found on our research but found out in the wild! Orient Express 🇭🇷 has an eye-catching train theme, a small narrow bar you enter straight off a shopping street. Wood fittings, leather upholstered seats and booths, golden age ephemera on the walls, this is noteworthy, particularly in a country with a famously ‘who cares?’ approach to decorating its caffe bars. Drinks are fairly stock and predictable, but complimented with some local craft beer options. Service is very friendly and used to touristic custom, and the place does a familiar kind of city centre trade, perhaps not a place with regulars in the evening as such, but well worth a look while in Zagreb given it goes the extra mile.
Back in 2014 we may have visited this place (but there is no evidence to prove it) – Čeh Pub 🇭🇷. This very directly-named pub is situated on the run between the station and central square, and has been a fixture of the city nightlife and social scene for a long time. Very smokey, noisy and vibrant venue with layers of event posters plastered along the wall and, it must be said, excellent Kozel and Pilsner Urquell on tap. It remains one of my favoured spots in the city. Yes, your clothes will end up stinking of smoke and your eyes streaming, but that applies to the majority of Zagreb bars anyway, in a nation where smoking inside pubs is still permitted.
There was time for a last stop of the night, and this was a place I remember we attempted to visit in 2014, but being timid little… *checks* 29 year olds, weren’t brave enough to explore. Bacchus Jazz Bar 🇭🇷 . This was a time when we may have still relied on paper maps, I can imagine us missing this place, tucked around the corner inside an alleyway. Neon-signage beckons you through but you still have to keep going until the stairs to the basement are visible. In summer months the courtyard is a popular place, but the weather was still a bit iffy so there was only the usual few smokers outside chatting. Indoors, you’ll find a cosy little underground bar with curved ceiling and warm lighting. They host occasional live music events but it is very much an attractive, social venue regardless of if an event is taking place. Some of the drinks options may be a little last gen, but this is also one of Zagreb’s longer-running city institutions, so deserves a bit of leeway. Even if they still hadn’t taken the Christmas decorations down! After an enjoyable nightcap it was very much time for bed.
Day 3 – Easter Sunday In Zagreb 🇭🇷
Croatia is a religiously observant country and there was a good chance Easter Sunday may have been a washout for bars. In reality, there was a very slow start with a lot of closures before the nightlife gradually got going in the evening time. An appropriate activity, and largely chosen because nearly everything else was shut, was the incredible Mirogoj Cemetery. Yes, spending time in a cemetery is not everyone’s holiday activity, but this is a colossal site with a mile of domed towers facing the street, and inside rows of porticos and beautiful headstones. Easily worth the tram ride and 15 minutes walk out.
After some lunch we returned to town to Carpe Diem 🇭🇷, which is one of those versatile café/bar/pub/anything tourist places with an uncanny valley appearance between Czech pivnice and English theme pub. Despite these sneery remarks, that’s not such a bad thing, and with a reasonably interesting drinks menu you could do far worse. It is versatile for a reason and does a good job, as reviews will attest to.
Next stop in the old town was our only surviving Zagreb inscription, Pivovara Medvedgrad’s old town pub Mali Medo 🇭🇷. On a sultry summer evening in 2014 we were treated to live music from the upstairs window onto the street and a great terrace atmosphere. Inside was the typical trad beer hall look. A refit has spoilt the interior which lacks a focal point, while it wasn’t exactly buzzing so early on an Easter Sunday. Still, it is a typically reliable option.
Another open attraction was the 80s Museum. Most Eastern-Bloc countries have their own version of these, and this leans straight into nostalgia and interactive exhibits rather than torturous captions about ideological repression. A fun time exploring Yugoslavian commercial and domestic life. Kudos to whoever donated the pornography.
Quite a few recommendations had come in online to visit Valhalla 🇭🇷 which was our next stop. One of Zagreb’s strongest beer specialists, combining a great range on tap and in the fridge with a venue that is itself worth hanging out in even if the beers weren’t there. A pubby understated space just off one of the main tourist streets, the Nordic signage is unmissable, though not over-the-top and leads into a two room pub with a mixed crowd. While this isn’t somewhere you’d go for a wild party, there is a social atmosphere around the bar and in the backroom, which all combines effectively to make this somewhat of an obvious choice.
After a rest and dinner (Sri Lankan food – go out with a vegan, interesting things happen!) we visited another old town circuit pub we had walked past the previous evening, Kvazar 🇭🇷. This small bar picks up the pace a little, with sport on TV, free popcorn, louder music and a younger crowd, but it’s a pretty well put together pub with some nice music memorabilia, leather upholstered bench seating, and a range of Croatian craft beer that goes beyond the norm too, a nice surprise. The atmosphere is friendly rather than brash, and it’s good enough overall to warrant an inscription to the guide. As we left, walking to the centre we noticed a man shouting, repeatedly, seemingly trying to get our attention. Then, as he approached he signalled, and we noticed a dog he was trying to chase down. The dog seemed to think this was a game so would wait until he got close then run away again. This scene continued to the central square, by which point it had descended into farce. Did he eventually grab his dog? Who knows!
I remember the day really sliding away, and somehow we ended up back at Swanky Monkey Garden 🇭🇷 barely getting in a round of cocktails (which are not amazing) for last orders.
Day 4 – Monday, Monday In Zagreb 🇭🇷
On the continent nearly all museums and attractions close on a Monday, so it is worth targeting what to do in advance, as neurotic as that may seem to some people. Zagreb Zoo, in Maksimir Park seemed a nice Monday morning activity, particularly as the weather was beginning to improve. Very good value for money attraction (for context about 15% of the cost of Chester Zoo with about 80% of the contents). Another opportunity for a tram ride, and to see Dinamo Zagreb’s battered stadium en route.
After that we paid a visit to a suburban pubPivnica Budweiser 🇭🇷 which promised – and delivered – lots of chunky wooden rustic furnishings and a Krčma pub-restaurant experience. Not overly distinctive enough to be worth including but not an unpleasant experience either. The Budweiser was Budvar, not the US tosh, btw.
As we were in the vicinity, we paid a visit to neighbourhood pub Legend Riders 🇭🇷 On approach, it was one of those slightly intimidating ‘Am I really going in here?’ moments, and on entry we found a small pub with a large friendly dog blocking the path to the bar. Distinctly local, we expected a Hell’s Angels type theme, but instead it was classic rock with guitars on the wall, TV churning out rock videos and enough Eric Clapton memorabilia that it moved from a feeling of ‘that’s quaint’ to ‘that’s slightly disturbing’. Well reviewed, and you can see why, because this is unpretentious, local, has far more to the décor than the average Zagreb caffe bar and a bigger surprise, has decent beers – including local craft on tap from Nova Runda. It wouldn’t make our guide but it sticks in the memory, and is a good indicator that if craft beer has permanent taps in a place like that, it is making a breakthrough in a land dominated by Karlovačko, Ožujsko & Pan.
Running out of Monday activities, a trip to Muzej Marmaluka, aka Hangover Museum (yes, Zagreb’s speciality is wacky museums) killed an hour, with anecdotes and props – some hilarious, some moronic about drunken escapades with possibly ankle breaking tests for you to conduct, followed by a shot of herbal liqueur.
We returned to the city centre for a rest before any evening activities, but would be targeting the bars dotted along the epically long Savska cesta, which is also frequently serviced by passing trams. Running from south west towards the city centre north east, this is a transect of regular Zagreb life. Hi-rises, arcades, precincts, mainly dated, but life goes on.
The first target venue goes by a few names, but Hendrick’s Garden 🇭🇷 seems to suffice. Images of a fairylit treehouse and painted frontage are eye-catching, particularly given how few places are remotely like that. On arrival anticipation rose, only to find it wasn’t open. Everything shut! At least there was time to return.
Fortunately it wasn’t far to the substitute venue, Vintage Industrial Bar🇭🇷. Modern, with a typical enclosed courtyard area with tactical graffiti and festooned lights, with a repurposed interior. Most Westerners will be familiar with this format. Given this is less usual here, I was confident this would be an inclusion to our guide, but somehow it managed to miss the mark. The seating is not very collected and communal at the bar area, everything feels overly dispersed, and there is an absence of something lovable, something quintessential about it that would have got it over the line. Oh well. It’s there if you fancy it.
With an appetite for something less corporate, the next stop delivered. Woody Beer Bar 🇭🇷 is everything Vintage wasn’t. Ad hoc, honestly priced, free of beer tie, neighbourly and local, raucous and generous. Unvarnished, but packed to the rafters with people visiting for the live music and deli spreads put on by the owner. The beer options were very good with a well chosen balance of Czech lager, Croatian craft and some international classics. We can’t guarantee it will be like this every time but it provided what we were looking for and deserved an inclusion.
The next choice, buried in Zagreb’s labyrinth of hi-rise, was Sunshine Inn 🇭🇷. Following on from the unpretentious experience in the last place, this was local, busy and considering how far off the beaten path – quite friendly too. More of a retro café with parquet floor, but music memorabilia and a pool table in the backroom underlined that it is still ‘a local’. It didn’t do enough to merit and inclusion but was worth visiting as a sample of real life.
If only there had been any life, real or otherwise at Medvedgrad’s 3rd venue, Fakin 🇭🇷. Well-financed, this large venue is built for volume, but didn’t have any. No-one was there. Given the array of beer taps including guest options (in this case Garage Brewery 🇪🇸 from Barcelona ) a lot of beer was going to waste, but if so many people prefer the likes of Woody and Sunshine, that should probably set off some soul searching. A venue without an audience, seemingly.
The evening ended where people actually were, underlining a distinct pattern for the evening, the corporate venues shut, quiet or dead, the neighbourly down to earth venues lively, vibrant and raucous. Take note, craft beer world. Krivi put 🇭🇷 is a large venue with huge courtyard hangout in summer and a barn like interior. Smokey, lively, another venue showing how frequently in Croatia there is little division between where the alternative crowd and the posers hangout. It ended up being a great choice to end the evening, concluding with the classic Imbiss kebab by the tram stop!
Day 5 – And then there was one. Zagreb 🇭🇷
My partner was due to return home mid-afternoon, leaving me (how dare she!) to myself for the rest of the trip. The flight was not until the afternoon though, and we had pencilled in a trip to The Garden Brewery 🇭🇷 around lunchtime. Way out of town, you’ll need a bus or tram, which takes around half an hour each way, dropping you off on some industrial scrubland. A major, well-funded operation with an international distribution network, this is no tinpot operation, but it does do legit craft beer, focusing on porters, pales and sours (quelle surprise). Enormous premises with a greenhouse type building housing the brewkit, large beer garden, tall plants and street food vendors. There’s something obnoxious about its utter predictability (although for some reason they don’t offer a taster set) but you can’t quibble with the quality of produce and amenities available. We’re sure it’ll continue to be an appealing venue for many and it just squeaked onto our guide, all things considered.
As we said our goodbyes I found myself just south of Kvaternikov trg, which wasn’t all that far from Caffe Bar Croatia 🇭🇷, a venue I’d researched in advance as it appeared to be a tiny old battered bar that had virtually fallen off the map. It felt like the ultimate counterpoint to the demographic led corporate brewery tap we’d visited. On entry, that classic head-turning as a stranger arrives occurred, but the young bar staff didn’t bat an eyelid and that gave me sufficient welcome. With basic drinks and zero glamour, the experience of visiting this pub is about authenticity. Local life, way, way off the tourist trail in Stara Peščenica, an old working class district near the railways. Smoking, drinking and banter at the bar in surroundings more personalised than most, with wood fittings and unexpected nautical nik-naks.
Rather than heading home to the safety of the old town, we kept going further out to try Hub Cooltura 🇭🇷. A neighbourhood café bar, versatile hangout spot with pleasant beer garden and vintage furnishings in the interior, this attracts a young boho crowd. It’s a likeable place with a very snug backroom, a bit of a diamond in the rough.
It was time to return to the apartment and sleep off some of that booze. On the route back we popped our head in a bar we would return to later. The evening started with a return to Mlinarica 🇭🇷 to try and understand why we hadn’t given it an inscription on the guide. One lovely beer later, we still weren’t fully sold on it. Not that it’s bad, it’s just that our inscriptions need to possess a certain something. The challenge is to reach 7.5/10. This is the most 7.4 place we’ve been to. Maybe in a year or two this fussiness will seem mad.
Back down the hill to a 2nd stop at Kvazar🇭🇷 and found another busy, buzzy environment with a football game on, and then headed into the centre for a first visit to an intriguing venue, The Beertija 🇭🇷. A courtyard with a hint of ruin bar to the environment, ideal for lounging in summer, very useful in an area of the city without much outdoor bar space. However it is also a basement bar, reasonably mainstream and very ‘worn’, clearly hosting a few too many nights out for its own good. Overall though, it ticked plenty of boxes to warrant an inclusion.
The night ended with a 2nd trip to Čeh Pub 🇭🇷 which was starting to wind down for closing time, but that helped to appreciate another side to what had always otherwise been a bustling bar. Once the beer was sunk it was time to get some late night scran at Pingvin, a cult fast food kiosk in the centre.
Day 6 – The final day in Zagreb 🇭🇷
After a well-earnt lie-in, we rose to a warm, sunny day. It had been a while since one of those. Taking the tram out to Jarun with its swimming lake and park was a nice way to get ‘out of the city’ (while still essentially being in the city). The fresh air and sunshine was welcome, but as always, the next bar visit wasn’t far away. Jazz Café 🇭🇷 is set in a pleasant neighbourhood, and the interior is a labour of love from someone who appears to be a water polo medallist. We didn’t enquire further! Quite a way ahead of the typical interior décor you’d expect from a Caffe Bar, with a few nice bottles available to drink. It was too early for that business though, so we made do with the Balkans classic – Cockta!
In the vicinity of Hendrick’s Garden 🇭🇷 this represented the final opportunity. Google said it was open so this seemed an appropriate time to visit, with the sun blazing. Well, what a waste of time. A 15 minute wait in a near empty bar for the staff to take my order, and no sign of the drink 15 minutes hence. After sitting on the patio furniture clicking my fingers, the novelty of the treehouse was no longer enough, I just left. This venue had the biggest gap between expectation and reality.
Referring to the remaining venues we had yet to visit, the next nearest bar was Ero 🇭🇷, a knackered old wooden boozer in a square, fairly brutalist complex. The staff were friendly, it was fairly quiet, fairly priced and photographs reasonably, but let’s be real – there’s nothing much to the place overall other than basic provision for locals.
Working my way up Savska cesta, en route I was advised to pay a visit to Le Petit Belge 🇭🇷 This Belgian café in a modern complex is a very good option when in Zagreb and was instantly likable. While there’s no point going too over the top, it covers drinks, decor, atmosphere, amenities and reasonable value, the service was nice and the environment is friendly, day or night. Not the worst place to drink Czech/German lager or Belgian ales.
After a break, it was time for some final drinks in Zagreb before my flight onwards. One of our followers on Twitter invited me to meet up, which I eagerly accepted. It’s great to meet some locals and help understand the local scene. Better still, the place he chose was another first time visit and one that ended up on our guide afterward. Cajt 🇭🇷 is located a short walk from the old town and its unprepossessing exterior appears to successfully deter tourists. Inside, a typically battered café layout with wood partitions and old patterned upholstered seats are opposite the bar. This is a place where everyone knows each other, a pleasant feeling, rare to find in a city centre, and certainly not something you’d find so centrally in a city like London. Cajt’s big draw is beer, which covers local craft to international classics both on tap and in the fridge. We worked our way through several before moving on.
The final venue ensured that the wake-up for the flight the following morning would be hungover and unpleasant, but those are the sacrifices you make sometime. Modern bottleshop and taproom Ambasada 🇭🇷 was recommended by our friend, and is walkable from Cajt, if not exactly close by. The offerings here are not so much vast as extremely well curated, with each beer style represented by particularly strong brands. The atmosphere was also jocular, local, with plenty of banter between people that knew each other, and the fact they were willing to switch to speaking English was very generous too. The venue itself is painted in warm ochre and furniture is the typical ‘does the job’ utilitarian approach. So somewhere that is full of pretty familiar generic elements is elevated to an inclusion by virtue of its friendly atmosphere and excellent beer.
And that was that! The final stop, after which we staggered home to bed ahead of a 4.45am start to Zagreb airport.
Conclusions:
5 days is a pretty good amount of time to spend in a city the size of Zagreb and it would have been a poor performance by us if we hadn’t done a thorough search. After visiting 30 venues, we’re pretty confident there isn’t some world-beating bar that’s slipped our net. In truth Zagreb has a number of good, likeable if flawed bars but very few that breakthrough as being among the very best. You won’t run out of options, and nightlife is overall pretty lively too, with the old town, the commercial centre and Savska cesta offering three quite distinct districts to explore. Zagreb has a number of varied activities making the city well worth a visit in general, never mind the bars. We didn’t get time to head into the hills, which are full of other excursion possibilities. Aside of one or two streets in the very centre of the old town, Zagreb still feels refreshingly local and not over-saturated with tourists most of the year.
Where next? Join us for Part#3 – April 13th-18th as we journey to Czechia 🇨🇿 and the Borderlands of Germany 🇩🇪 & Poland 🇵🇱 !
The day before writing this we noticed on a Facebook group our guide was being criticised for not being something it was ever trying to be – a beer guide. Not the first time that has happened.
As we’ve always tried to point out, our guide aims to be the first guide to review any type of bar, simply to judge how effective they are at what they’re trying to be. If they have other strings to their bow, even better!
The reason we took this approach isn’t just in order to reach and be of use to a wider audience, but to invite people to reflect on their own preferences and to be curious about the range of experiences around them. After all, going to these bars opened our eyes, so why not others?
When it comes to bars, can their value be detached from the products they offer?
Let’s review two examples. Sorry to single these out, but it seems a good way to illustrate this:
Here is a craft beer bar, a US-style taproom/diner hybrid with one of Vienna city centre’s better selections on tap and in bottle. If you follow Ratebeer or Untappd for example, there’s no doubt here is where they’ll tell you to go (among a few other venues). The bar in terms of product is pretty solid, including its food repertoire. The experience however is where it falls short. Poorly ventilated, poor acoustics, kind but sometimes erratic service, décor that is a paean to generica – it could be anywhere in the world, and that actually seems to be the point. The killer blow (at least to an inclusion on our guide) is a sterility to the atmosphere, even when busy.
For now, the experience at Mel’s is put to one side by people because the product is clearly above average and as there aren’t many similar options nearby, they attract their custom almost by default. However, place this venue in a city with a lot of competition, and it would drop a few places into an also-ran position. It is a middling to decent bar with a bigger fridge and more keg lines than average.
An independently run little Boazn with an elderly owner, Auntie Viki. Starting with the product: the drinks selections are as basic as they come. Macro lager (in cans) and a choice of cobweb flecked spirits. The only way you’ll be distracted by the drinks is by wondering if they’re safe to consume. There is not much product here really, except the most perfunctory required to actually describe itself as a bar. But the experience is where the venue comes alive.
Individual and eccentric, the bar is somewhat like wandering into an old lady’s living room midway through spring cleaning. Piles of dresses and flowery adornments everywhere, soft furnishings, a fluffy cat and a brain-damaged dog. Locals and tourists visit here because of the warmth and welcome, the authenticity and loyalty, to recognise its spirit of endurance in a brutal world. To be allowed inside the venue in the first place requires the scrutiny and consent of the owner, who then welcomes you in as her guest in her own eccentric, doddering way. Conversation is in Hungarian or broken German, but somehow it all muddles through.
One is safe, one provides product. They hammer out a 6 or 7/10 almost every time.
One is riskier, weirder, more unfamiliar, unlike anywhere you will have been on Earth, but curious, individual, charming, eccentric and potentially bags of fun. It provides memories. For you it may be a 9, for someone else a 3 or 4. When you read the reviews online, some get it, and some just don’t.
These two venues highlight the fundamental problem of only using product as the barometer to rate bars.
As a tourist, one visiting a city for the first time, which would you pick?
Prague in Czechia will be subject to extensive research this year in advance of a dramatic new offering on European Bar Guide (details of which we will keep under wraps for now). With 44 guide entries on our guide – which is only here to recommend the best venues in Europe, you’d be fooled for thinking we’re close to cracking it, but the truth is we are probably halfway through at best!
February 2023’s trip involved a flight into Bratislava before getting the train to Brno and Kolin the following day, joining up with Czech Beer Fan Club in Prague for 3 nights. Time in Prague on this occasion was to be focused on exploring authentic, down-to-earth and working class pubs, including those with a bit of history.
Day #1 – Arrival in Bratislava, PM
On arrival to Bratislava we’d seen the opportunity to visit a unique looking venue in the outskirts, Múzejný Hostinec. The route to Podunajské Biskupice takes about half an hour with 2 buses from Bratislava airport. Not straightforward but not too onerous either. This suburb is part of Bratislava but once you pass the tower blocks everything goes low-rise and village like until the pub hoves into view on the corner.
Múzejný Hostinec is a revivalist pub with fittings and décor redolent of the Austrian era into the 1920s Czechoslovakian era. Frilly and dressy, genteel, but don’t be fooled. There are no pretensions to appeal to an elite audience; this is otherwise a down-to-earth village boozer with local life. Múzejný has several strings to its bow too. Brewpub operation, museum, live events venue. It’s a destination venue that genuinely warrants the trip out to its obscure location. The beer options are extensive with seasonal specials along a wheel of styles traditional and modern.
On the way into the centre we had to assess the situation with Hostinec Richtár Jakub, one of Bratislava’s best pubs. A multi-tap marvel in a classic half step basement, this really defined all that was best about Czechoslovakian pub going – and it brewed its own beer. Unfortunately they have left this great location and set up in a new one called Gallery Šenk. We visited to find the brewing still going, but the venue itself leaves a bit to be desired, so will be removed from the guide. The tapster was unable to tell us the reasons for the move in either English or Slovak.
Before checking into the hotel we could squeeze in another visit so popped down the road to perennial favourite and reliable stopgap Steinplatz which also features on our Days Out guide to Bratislava. This basement venue, a former public convenience, has been decked out in a truly complimentary manner befitting its location, with exposed brickwork, muted lighting, antique musical instruments and what feels like a cosy little warren of rooms. Friendly and atmospheric. The beers are 0.4l pours sadly, but there are at least 8 taps with a range of largely independent Slovak and Czech brewers represented. A must visit.
After check-in and a rest, it hadn’t escaped our attention our hotel was handily located by the cult pub Bernard pri lýceu. This tiny Pivaren has an appealingly odd-couple blend of grizzled regulars and young groups who come for the amazing Bernard range on tap and excellent value beers, with the 12 degrees unfiltered lager clocking in at 1.70 euros for 0.5l. In summer the terrace provides a spot for people that might be intimidated by the extremely local atmosphere inside. It has never helped that the service is very frowning and gruff. A few words in Czech or Slovakian go a long way to breaking the ice here.
Our final stop was somewhere we have generally struggled to get a seat in, but this time we toughed it out until a table opened up (a 10 minute or so wait). Čierny Pes, aka Black Dog is an old town venue with a deservedly strong reputation. Set onto a slope, you enter with a few steps into a basement setting with curved ceilings and some exposed stone. Lit with hanging lamps and furnished with chunky wooden tables, each corner feels intimate and set up for winter socialising at its best. We perched by the bar waiting for our chance until the table by the entrance became available. Once seated, it was clear we were in the place to be. The social scene is warm, friendly and collegiate, managing a range of people without the pub alienating any specific group. This is extremely difficult to execute without being bland. Its character does the business, as does the range of Bernard beers, including the Nitro keg version of their black lager (the spinoff nicknamed Black Avalanche). Mark it on your to do list. There was no need to go anywhere else, so with an early start the following day, we immersed ourselves in the hubbub and thoroughly enjoyed it.
Day #2 – Brno, Kolin, arrival in Prague
On a chilly winter morning, we departed to catch our 8am train to Brno through snow flurries and quiet streets, a ‘grounding experience’ for central Europe in February, one that we’re well used to by now. A crowd in Bratislava station entrance normally means train delays – there is no reason anyone in their right mind would want to spend more time than strictly necessary in that place. Unfortunately that was the case here, and a 45 minute add on of time ate into our available time in Brno.
The train was calm, warm and quiet and travelling through winter fields from the previous week’s snowfall emphasised what a pretty and largely rural place Moravia is, with rolling hills, farmland and idyllic pastoral scenes that don’t make Josef Lada’s lovingly twee drawings seem overly cartoon-like after all.
Brno centre was reasonably busy on a Saturday morning, and we wandered through the centre assessing our options. The recent Česká televize series Příběhy starých hospod (or ‘Tales of Old Pubs) featured Restaurace U Průmyslovky, an old pub in the Veveří district walkable from the old town. This pub offers faded grandeur with high ceilings, stucco, tall curtains and hanging lamps. It has clearly since then moved to operate to the working class market, so also offers an interesting balance of vestigial formality and totally down to earth service and customers. The lunch of Smažený sýr (fried cheese) and Polička beer was about as stolidly mediocre as you could expect, with the decent price only reflecting the middling quality. Despite the time of day there were a few groups in, from the bar fly to the youngsters behind me. It needs something else to really elevate it to a guide inclusion though.
Lunch finished in time to reach Hostinec U Bláhovky up the road (also featuring in the above series). The pub is known to us from several visits in recent years, and has been known to Brno residents for far longer. It is really their direct equivalent of a pub like U Hrocha or U Jelinku in Prague.
When there are a queue of people at midday opening time, you know you’re at a cult venue. The sense of anticipation grows because the staff aren’t ready to pour straight away. For 5 minutes you watch them gradually set up everything they need to function for the day ahead, before the order is made. Here, unless you specify something other than a beer, that’s what will arrive if you stay silent. Then when it arrives, let the head climb up the glass, again all adding to the suspense, before diving in, nose first into the 3 fingers of foam. Some pubs give you a fuzzy feeling of a happy place, and this is one such venue. Known for its huge pork knee (genuinely bigger than a human skull) and for the rhythm and patter of its crew of tapsters and servers whose banter is all part of the atmosphere at this great place.
Further train delays led to a window of dead space and so, with little time to make any serious commitments we visited EFI Hostinec Zelňák. It’s a brewpub with a venue on the Cabbage Market, Brno’s main square, and offers a tidy range of traditional and more modern beer. Price point is fair, with a weekly beer on for a decent reduction. Their 8 degree lager brewed with Kazbek hops was a suitably modern effort, dry as a bone, citrusy but with a note of wholesome Kellerbier style flavour in the aftertaste. At 35 crowns for a half litre, it was a surprise competitor around the cheapest beer of the trip. As for the venue – a confused café with Austrian era fittings and thick curtains not sitting with the stark glass and larger modern posters. Unless a similar situation arises, or if the food looks good perhaps, it’s not a venue we’ll rush back to.
We are always keen to visit somewhere new on each trip to stimulate the senses and cover ground. This time we settled for the option that was staring us in the face – Kolin. This medium sized town is one we’d passed several times to and from Kutna Hora, however it never looked that appealing from the trainline. How wrong we were – the centre is a classically restored ensemble of pastel houses and charmingly crenulated civic monuments, stone towers and a Jewish quarter. Perhaps it hasn’t got the size or breadth of others, but is diverting enough to seriously warrant a day excursion.
The pub situation was less promising though, with only two options in the whole town centre that looked even above average. The main target, Hostinec Stoletá has a revivalist taproom with a smart wooden bar, curved ceiling and ethnic patterns in the arches as decoration. The selection of antiques in the window and closer inspection heightened expectations. This wasn’t going to be a stopgap after all! Then disaster, as we attempt to visit the taproom and are told it is closed. We are turned around and told to sit in the lobby area, which was full. Eventually we are moved to a backroom, unlit, to sit on our own. This is pointless, so we leave, cursing our luck. There was no reason why the taproom ought to have been closed. We’ll return to this…
The second option, Hostinec U Tří pírek was a genuine stopgap, not unlikeable as a venue but not much of an actual pub. Nevertheless, we enjoyed the half litre of Kutna Hora 13 degrees dry hopped lager. While not an exceptional example it was well kept and competently brewed.
It was getting dark and time to leave for Prague. As we left the main square, past Hostinec Stoletá we suddenly noticed the taproom was open and full of people. It must have been a matter of 20 minutes. The staff who turned us around did not have the wit to explain this, denying us opportunity to sit in what is almost certainly the best bar room in Kolin. Computer says no!
In Prague we were situated in Karlin, a district euphemistically described as up-and-coming for the last 20 years until recently it actually has started to resemble that. The twin towers of its central church are iconic, as is the Vitkov hill overshadowing what is a riverside district. After checking in it was time to meet the Czech Beer Fan Club & friends for beers.
I was informed they were in První Pivní Tramway, a great choice other than the fact it it possibly the most remote pub to choose, nearly 50 minutes on the tram. Nevertheless, we boarded the 14 and embarked on what is in some ways a classic voyage and pilgrimage, sweeping through the centre, on to Nusle before picking up speed and off at the terminus in Spořilov, a clearing dotted with grim looking towerblocks and the ramshackle outbuilding which houses this lovely pub.
Possibly our 6th visit here, it is great to see the place going strong and still attracting a great mixture of people, the type you find in good quality English boozers. The Konrad 10 is still on at a decent price and the multitap offerings, now almost unremarkable, should be recognised as the first place in Prague which attempted that as a format.
The next stop, Zlý časy has caught up, surpassed then left-for-dead Tramway in terms of its local fame, while still offering something rather similar. Multiple tap options of great beer among a familiar – but still distinctive – homely surrounding of warm wood and glowing lights. Delighted to find Poutnik on tap, we stayed for a few. This is a place where you can find high quality craft and classic European options.
Our final stop of the evening was a 1st time visit for us, Pivnice Špeluňka. As part of research into ‘4th grade venues’ this little boozer had appeared to tick all the boxes. Arriving 20 minutes before closing time and with Justin from the group falling sleep, we didn’t immediately endear ourselves with the tapster. Armed with some Czech I assured him we would be out of there in good time. A rare outing for Branik on tap (the beer that’s ‘not all that bad really’ by any standards other than Czech ones), a small venue with a simple format, with a crowd in the backroom and what appeared to be a rather large safe by the entrance. Then it was time for bed.
Day 3 – A Full Day In Prague
A beautiful clear sunny day followed, a great excuse for a wander around some of Prague’s more obvious beauty spots. The Royal Route, takes you from Náměstí Republiky to Prague castle. Taken at a steady pace, and allowing for stops for photographs and general gasping, you can take in a whole 45-60 minutes of spectacular architecture. Moving from the old town to Charles Bridge, seeing Malá Strana and Prague castle in front of you, yet to be reached, is one of the touchstone moments of sightseeing in Europe, a feeling that never gets old, even if it is never the same as the first time.
As part of the pilgrimage, a trip to U Černého vola was compulsory, being one of our top 20 pubs in Europe. Set up on the castle hill, but just – just far enough up the road to avoid the excessive tourist footfall, a balance of locals and tourists fill this majestically Cro-Magnon, rustic and raw boozer with its medieval sigils, super chunky tables and gruff tapster/server combos. A love or hate place, no doubt. Even its adherents like ourselves have had one of those moments of being shouted at in Czech for not sitting in the right place. A dark Kozel here, for us feels just right.
Joining up with the Czech Beer Fan Club once more, we took the tram from Pohořelec west to U Prezidentů, for only our 2nd ever visit. One of the most distinctive pubs in the city, its decoration of famous Presidents, dictators and politicians and distinctly anti-authoritarian streak sits charmingly alongside a genteel, rustic, cabin-like decor staffed by a friendly team that welcome tourists, (not that they will get as many out here in near Ladronka park). The moment of our visit was being presented with a plate of what appeared to be Czech stromboli. Cheesy, tomato turnovers with sausage and gherkin inside. With the price of 35kc per piece, this plate of piping hot deliciousness ended up being irresistible. More pubs should do this – just present people with hot food and wait till they crack!
Down the hill and down the stairs back to Bělohorská to pick up the tram one stop to Hostinec Drinopol. Our 2nd visit here, this venerable century old pub is a local classic, with a striking white tall corner building emblazoned in green paint with Hostinec on one side and Drinopol on the other, offering a simple and honest selection of food and drink among football trophies, memorabilia, car number plates and wood strip interior. Popular with local 5-a-side teams for an after game pint on Sundays, we arrived to find a shirtless fellow and a barrage of unintelligible banter passing back and forth. This settled down sufficiently while still being atmospheric. A busy, social atmospheric pub of no pretension and plenty of character.
The real luncheon was to follow at the even older pub Hostinec Na Slamníku, a place that makes Drinopol look like a veritable teenager with its 400+ years of history. Our 4th visit here, the signage is equally iconic and you’re feeling good vibes before even stepping through the door. Slamníku is a more upright affair which attracts middle class families for good quality lunches, and its beer offering from Unetice is excellent. In the past I have had several excellent dishes (including a platter of quail), this time there was shredded roast duck serviced with red cabbage in a savoury wrap. Delicious but a little more basic than usual.
The nearby station pub Dejvická Nádražka came next, another venue featuring in the Czech TV series on old pubs, more surprising in a sense because this former upstanding station restaurant has long ceased to be anything other than the most unvarnished, rough and ready boozer, with live gigs, laid back attitude and focusing on an affordable price point. To find Staropramen 10, poor though that beer is, at 29,50kc (£1.10) for 0.5l is startling in this inflationary era that has been affecting the Czechs severely. This pub isn’t for everybody but for those it is aiming at, it’s a cult venue and the site of some of the best nights out many have had.
Going cheaper and scuzzier than the last place is nearly mission impossible but with U Prašivka only up the road, it was about to happen. In a visit in 2022 they were still clinging on to 27kc per beer. The dam has burst but at 28kc for a half litre of Chotěboř, and fair prices for a small range of more glamorous rotating alternatives, this is about as low as it goes in the city limits. The pub is an intimidating no-holds barred pajzl with grizzled guests and snarly service. It isn’t for wallflowers. Yet a lot of this is facade (or at least a mirage based on prejudice and social expectations). Keep on going before it settles and you’ll discover a hugely charming pub. It defines ‘4th grade’, and used to be the bin man’s destination of choice, knocking off their shift for a pint at 9am, still maintaining those hours. In the summer, being kicked out after last orders near 9pm in broad daylight is a truly odd experience.
It was time to go somewhere new – Fraktal is a venue that had been loosely on our radar for a while, an odd mixture of traditional Czech hospoda in some respects, with quirky decor in a Theme pub with Mexican food. Perhaps it was just the spittle-flecked barbarity of the last place but it felt like the service was really warm and friendly here, putting us at ease. There’s a little raised area with seating where you get a good view of the bar. As our numbers swelled we visited the side rooms with striking chrysalis type lighting and more general oddness. Difficult to put your finger on what’s going on here. A little worn, but distinctive and stubbornly difficult to dislike.
Next stop and a venue that has crept up our radar with each visit. The homely U Pivoje down the road is a tidy and compact little Pilsner Urquell Pivnice with blackened wood and a simple appeal. On first glance to some it looks like it might be a bit intimidating. However, the service – family-run – is pretty friendly and it’s nice to see such an operation survive amidst the change around them. It was more atmospheric this time with a group of musicians in the taproom and the place shined as for the first time we went from imagining what it may be like when it gets going to being there in person.
U Velblouda (the Camel) followed, a little Pivnushka type pub with a tiny bar in the entrance and basement hangout. Svijany and Unetice beers on tap provide a change of flavour.
Time was well and truly moving on and Cross Club was our next stop at the request of Justin who had designed the route and wished to see the steampunk decor and environment. It is no doubt a work of art, but as with all such places you have to avoid scams (tourists being overcharged being one) and without enough customers its raison d’etre can appear unfulfilled.
As our group tapered off, mainly to go to bed, this left a final fling at Bondy Bar, a short walk away. Located right next to the modern, contemporary Vnitroblock, this vaguely naff theme bar was saved by its natural surroundings of brick vaults, candlelight and the tapster, a well-loved local character whose service is kind and adds to the atmosphere. Parts of you will desire to hate the place, with its USA and Redneck flags, but it’s genuinely quite difficult. After this it really was time to call it a day.
Day #4 – Also All Day In Prague!
The best way to kill a hangover: fluids, a good breakfast (preferably with salt) and fresh air. We set off from Karlin to Wenceslas Square, and explored the ‘pasazy‘, shopping precincts and passageways that were built between the late 19th century up to the 1960s. Many of these interconnect and can lead you into a maze. The ensemble of preserved decor, such as in Lucerna, is every bit as beguiling as some of the more conventional sights.
We arrived at U Rotundy for opening time to find the typical tapster in operation, a paunchy unshaven fellow with an unbuttoned waistcoat. He is generally friendly and although it doesn’t seem like it will be the case, he can converse in English should you need it. As our article above describes, this is one of the few remaining genuine working class boozers in Prague 1. Prices have risen in accordance with inflation, but at 38kc a half litre, it still represents great value for a city centre largely offering beer above 50kc these days. There’s a genteel simplicity here, at a venue where you are as likely to find workers in dirty overalls drinking beer as you are local magistrates in their suits and tie. Their addition of Cerna Barbora, a dark lager is a welcome move and an improvement on the Staropramen Dark they previously offered.
We can cram in the words pilgrimage and institution one more time, surely? Yep, let’s go. This time it really was to one of Europe’s finest establishments, a Top 10 pub U Hrocha in Malá Strana. Rather like in Brno, there was a queue of people waiting for the place to open its doors at midday. After that, the place was full half an hour later. With Wolfman on the taps, you know the půllitr of Pilsner Urquell is going to be sublime, but honestly on this occasion it was like a return to the days where we were convinced it was the best lager on the planet. The orchestra conducted masterfully at will with a flick of the taps. Deciding to decline ještě jedno was the toughest decision of the entire trip, due solely because of the ground needed to be covered today. We left the pub in a very, very good mood.
Going across town to U Dandu to drink Gambrinus was a bit of a comedown to say the least, although not because of the pub, which is an authentic ‘legit’ boozer. A second visit here. Bright orange with frilly net curtains and a taproom that is one of the more masculine, unvarnished places you could visit in the city. The adjacent Šenk is a truly local pit, be warned you may not be permitted in there unless you’re armed with intermediate Czech at least. A curio but not quite reaching the heights required in our guide.
Next stop, U Růžového Sadu was not a choice we personally made, but when one is going with the crowd, some diplomacy is called for. Rather than the pub being bad as such, there is more a general absence of much distinctive going on to warrant the diversion. The most notable aspect was the unfiltered Gambrinus which is still a sleeper hit. Definitely one of the better regular ‘beers from a big brewer’ in Czechia.
Things were about to get more interesting, following on from yesterday’s theme of rough and ready boozers that by rights should have closed down decades ago. Hostinec V Lucemburské is one of Vinohrady’s remaining such places, with an interior that looks unchanged for a long time. The glazed circular patterns in the windows are a dead giveaway of such places, while the inside had a worn tiled floor and battered old black furniture and fittings, all lit with a warm cream glow. To say we stood out on entry would be underplaying it somewhat – we had well and truly invaded a local’s domain. After a while of hostile stares it appeared, as it so often does, that some were simply curious and as we made to leave they began a conversation with us. Proof that what is on the surface can often simply be prejudice. Potentially a really nice old pub which we will return to.
Our next venue was a classic for the district – and Prague in general – U Sadu. Its main room with hundreds of objects pinned to the ceiling, the turtles in the urinals, pinball machine, freezer full of ice creams, Belgian beer selection, crypto payment facility and unorthodox menu are among many reasons this is a standout, one that likes to do things a little bit differently to everywhere else. It barely ever closes. We had a great time, needless to say, and were joined by another couple from Czech Beer Fan Club, Steve and Nicki that happened to be in the city at the same time.
Following that place is a difficult task but it made sense to go somewhere simple and small. Pivní lokál Ostrý provided a pause from all things Czech. The ever present smell of bratwurst and Aldersbacher beers offered a little window into Austria for a while as we drew breath. Pleasant service and an environment of blue and white chequered table cloth and yellow walls, the place always seems to be either completely full or completely empty.
Down the hill to the main drag in lower Žižkov to U Vystřelenýho oka, one of our favourites for later night drinking, but on this occasion simply early evening. A fantastic ceramic heater keeps the back wall warm and it is prime spot in this very dog-friendly pub where there are always people playing cards, coming and going for a smoke and just plain old hanging out. There are occasional gigs too but on this occasion simply the raw pub itself to enjoy – which is fine by me.
The crawl suddenly lurched to Anděl due to a request to visit Pivnice Jamajka, a semi-regular pub well-known to us. At this point we had done a few attempts to beat a taxi via public transport and again managed to arrive via tram just before the taxi arrived. Viva an efficient public transport system. They don’t know how lucky they’ve got it. Jamajka is a lovely simple pub in a half-step basement which offers beer from Unetice and Postřižinské. It has a natural social environment that favours medium sized groups and manages that difficult balance of appealing to a wide group while not becoming overly bland.
We decided to split off from the group and head towards the direction of home past a couple of spots. With 5 minutes to go until last orders we bagged a spot at a table in U Zlatého tygra. After a lukewarm introduction several years ago the place grows on us with each visit, the familiarity helping, of course. It was busy but ‘nicely busy’, with the servers looking forward to winding down, and a group of Brasilians marking Pélé’s death in a corner table. The Pilsner Urquell was very decent too, and the atmosphere was such a lovely ur-typical Czech experience we can easily recommend to everyone local or foreign.
A last stop before home was a combination of coincidence and residual memory, as we remember reading Fred Waltman‘s many visits to Minireston Twitter. A small little drop-in place in an area more known for shopping than pubs, offering a multi-tap experience of good beers from independent Czech brewers. The selection is strong and the environment was good too, busy, social and with a positive feeling from the mixed group, more of a gender balance than the heavily male-slanted venues we had visited so far. With the last beer and some twisty pastry thing they were selling in a tub next to the bar, it was home and off to bed.
Day #5 – Final Day and Home – Liver begins celebrating
After the barrage of pubs and pivo, we took it a little easier on the final day, leaving Prague at 4pm. Starting with a trip to Karlin church then a central museum before the 1st pivo at U Jelinku which almost completed the central core Pilsner pubs (Sorry U Rudolfina and U Vejvodu). It was quietish in there as could be expected at midday on a Tuesday but totally unchanged. Then back to U Rotundy to have a final beer and lunch with the core group, splitting off to have a final pivo at Hostomicka Nalévárna which at that points struck me as the last one on our regular circuit unvisited. Again, this is a pub where you can turn up knowing nothing at all has changed. Their beer from Hostomice is a rare sighting around Prague which provides beer fans a justified reason in and of itself to visit, before you get to its cosy, compact ricketyness.
Final thoughts!
Bratislava is a dynamic place where businesses close and open more noticeably regularly than many cities we have visited. It is a true shame about Richtar Jakub, which was in our Top 100 bars.
One of the most striking changes since our last visit to Czechia in September is of course the effect on prices of inflation, however the good news is that most pubs were full or either exactly as busy as you’d expect on any given time of day. The extent of its working class pubs may not be what it was, but is strong enough to spend all day every day for a week visiting. Most are hostile and intimidating to the uninitiated but carry no real threat, particularly if you learn a few phrases. Starting up a discuss with a local and feeling part of the city experience, a welcome guest rather than an intruder is a special moment in such places.
Prague remains affordable, colourful and with charms that both instantly meet the eye and take years to grow on you. Kolin was a nice discovery among the patchwork quilt of pretty town squares that dot the country and make Czechia an ever appealing place to those who enjoy imagining themselves transported into the past.
It also shows we have a lot of work to do in advance of our plans later in the year, with only a couple of venues further forward to the 110 we are aiming to fully write up.
Translating to The Forest of the Fairies, this high concept bar is set down an alley entrance to a Wax Museum, and although it is listed as secret (how secret can a bar with over 1000 Google reviews really be?) you’ll find it signposted clearly enough on an arch set off La Rambla.
El Boscdefinitely ranks highly for oddness – it is one of those special bars decorated with such care and attention that you can turn your head in any direction and see something new. The main area is quite a sight to behold when you enter in, with tree trunks shooting up and branches crawling along the ceiling to create an enclosed forested feel. Fairy lights make a prominent, predictable appearance, but it’s tastefully done. The central room is largely cleared of furniture to allow more people to congregate. As you’d expect with this décor and this location – it’s a popular spot, both with tourists and locals. No surprise – there’s nowhere else like it after all.
Luckily, there are plenty of other places in the bar to wander to, should you find the going a little bit congested. You will find a small area similar to a snug in a traditional pub (rather unexpected in such a place), a completely different back room with origami beetles in the window, a medieval style rocking bed to sit on, a table held forward by a toy soldier. Then another room, where suddenly the bar turns into a lush upholstered Victorian bedroom with pretty white furniture and billowing curtains – presumably the fairy’s bedroom? Who even knows anymore?! Then, follow through a corridor with huge machine like cogs on the wall and lampshades that look like bats, and a wall covered in backlit butterflies. I wasn’t high or anything, I can assure you. Wherever you turn, something new.
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The beers are the usual limited Spanish arrangement, and aren’t especially cheap (it’s La Rambla, so no surprise). Probably your best option is Voll-Damm, a double pilsner with just enough flavour and just clean-tasting enough to be inoffensive. But hey, at least it’s not Fosters. Voll-Damm services the visit well enough. Grab a bottle and get wandering down.
I visited El Bosc with my partner and we both felt the bar strikes a good tone, not too masculine or too twee, but occasionally fanciful and macabre, likely to appeal to both sexes and anything in between. It’s also pretty cosy if you get the right seat.
If you ever fancied combining a night out with the aesthetics of A Midsummer Night’s Dream this is your chance. No, this place doesn’t quite have have the raw power of an alternative bar, indeed it’s been lavished with money and attention to the extent it moves past a ruin-bar feel and there are some areas that verge on anodyne, but it’s so unusual, outstanding in its distinctiveness, so well-done in its execution, you can hardly walk past it without popping in for a drink and a nosey around. With any luck you’ll get a spot on the swing!
Although we always love obtuse and obscure selections on European Bar Guide, when the mainstream knuckles down and devotes some effort into making something fabulous, it can be well worth your time and attention. El Bosc goes way past the call of duty, pushing beyond the normal boundaries and expectations. When you leave, or perhaps even during your stay you may find yourself reassessing the question – what actually is a bar?
Some of you may have been wondering when I’m going to profile an English pub, so I’m pleased to keep you in suspense no longer. After all, England is going to feature heavily on this website one way or another given the quality and sheer number of good pubs (regardless of whether that number is going up or down) and given it’s where I happen to live, making these places much more accessible than, for example, the bar scene over in Belarus.
Brigg is a typical Lincolnshire market town, yet crowded with more pubs than you’d think would be viable for a place of its size. A 5 minute walk through its small centre will take you past a dozen pubs, each of which manage to remain open despite the recent appearance of a Wetherspoons and the ominous threat to local trade that represents.
My favourite in town by some distance is the Yarborough Hunt, based on a small back street over the river Ancholme, which until very recently had three pubs within a stone’s throw of each other, making for one of the easier pub crawls out there! There’s a bridge and a picturesque stretch of river lined with willow trees, often with a family of swans terrorising anyone trying to use the water for barging, rowing etc.
The pub building is one of those typical venerable townhouses you find across the East of England with weathered brickwork and an architectural style calling up stereotypes of rural life in the 18th Century.
While the buildings themselves go back a long way, the pub itself is a relatively new venture from 2003, making use of the old ‘Sargeant Brewery’ buildings and carefully designing a bar and pub rooms into the ground floor in a traditional rustic style.
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“The Yarbrough” manages to be a country pub in a slightly different way to some, with some touches which give the place a preserved character, and eschewing a lot of modern pub features – music, cooked food and fruit machines for a start. The main sound you’ll hear is the chatter of conversation and perhaps the occasional dog barking. The sense of calm is often missing from pubs these days whereas there are times, especially during the afternoon, when that’s precisely what you want.
This place isn’t ‘Inn’ by any stretch, it isn’t large or homely enough for that. It’s a workmanlike barn type pub, and before you think I intend that as a criticism, I don’t! I mean that in a very good way.
You will notice the exposed beams and tiled floor when you walk in. Take a few steps to your left to enter the bar area where the ceiling has been removed to expose the rafters which gives it a characterful feel. The central area of the pub is mainly tiled but there are comfortable carpeted areas in the sides rooms to your left and right with huge sturdy wooden bench seats.
Almost a pre-requisite, the fire is kept going for months on end which adds a warm cosy feel to the otherwise upright sturdy main pub area.
Despite being a pub, the place does more like café-style trade during the day, as young families, old fogies and retirees potter down here to drink coffee and read the paper. However, there are some reliable intransigents propping up the bar drinking cask ale, and when you look at the range of options it’s clear these chaps have the right idea over everyone else.
Rather unusually, the Yarborough has a multitap keg ale panel behind the bar in addition to several cask pumps in front. It’s a curiosity in an otherwise old fashioned place, but the joy is that there are several unusual beers to try. Unfortunately they have ceased to do the line of beer from Brauhaus Riegele which is a great shame as that is barely available anywhere in the UK, and knocks a point off, but the range still extends beyond what you’d expect for the place. Without the specialist beers on offer you’d still be right at home with a pint of thick brown cask bitter, kept as well as you would hope and expect.
On Saturdays the pub often plays host to friendly away fans travelling to football matches in Lincoln, Grimsby, Scunthorpe and the pace certainly livelies up a touch when they arrive. The Ancholme can be good for rowing and often rowers head over for a pint after their exertions.
During the evening the Yarborough escapes first gear, with a different crowd gathering and a hubbub developing. I would recommend sitting towards the end of the bar area for the most atmosphere as the fairy lights around the beams and general ambience around the bar is pleasant and jovial. The high ceiling in the main room betrays what is otherwise a ‘nook-and-cranny’ type pub.
They have made some strange design decisions in some of the smaller side rooms which are wholly regrettable and not in keeping with inn-keeping (bdum tish), but hopefully soon someone will see sense and consolidate the whole pub back to its core and stop trying to use it as a canvas for dodgy amateur interior design.
The same extends to the beer garden where they have seen fit to create heated beach huts, presumably to try and keep smokers satisfied. Odd to say the least.
There were also some wranglings in the last few years with the owner Tom Woods whose brewery’s mediocre ales (in my opinion) were being outsold, unsurprisingly, by the other, superior options. It seems that this has now been resolved by moving on from that connection altogether. I’m pleased to say on each of my visits in 2018 there has been a wide range of cask and keg is on offer.
However, despite the usual provincial quirks that stop the Yarborough reaching its potential, the pub is managed by Lucy, a very enterprising woman and a core of committed employees that are clearly proud and determined to keep the pub in good shape. This shows in nearly everything the pub does, and despite the healthy competition for bums on seats in Brigg, they enjoy committed repeat custom, quite rightly, and the strongest reputation as the reviews on Google will attest to.
You’ll find the staff up front and welcoming; it’s one of those places where groups of people know each other very well. The essence of being there is the simplicity and the ritual a social tradition untouched by centuries, which is the genius loci of this place. Given that’s the case, I’d strongly advise them to concentrate on preserving that and trying not to turn it into something it isn’t.
I have no hesitation in recommending paying a visit if you’re anywhere near Brigg.
