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April 1st-6th – Austria & Slovenia – Trip #5 of 2023 🇦🇹🇸🇮

You are reading Part 1 of our Big Trip of 2023! 24 days, 7 countries. In just over 3 weeks we visited 80+ bars and discovered 50+ new venues worthy of The European Bar Guide!

The plan for the first 6 days was as follows:

Fly to Bratislava, Slovakia 🇸🇰 travel to Austria 🇦🇹: Vienna for 3 nights, Graz for 2, then cross the border by rail to explore Maribor and Ptuj in Slovenia 🇸🇮.

Day 1 – Bratislava 🇸🇰 to Vienna 🇦🇹

With only 50km between them, flying into Bratislava can be a cheap and convenient way to get to Vienna, with a simple direct train to Wien HBF (central station). Before that we had only a small time in Bratislava, getting a cheap lunch at U Sedliaka 🇸🇰, a historic venue that churns out retro charms like Zlatý Bažant ’73 on tap and hearty home cooking such as the national dishes Strapačky and Bryndzové halušky. They even offer a couple of vegan dishes, quite a surprise. While the venue does have heritage, they haven’t really made the best design choices and it lacks a layout that produces a pubby enough social atmosphere.

That was soon due to change as we visited Bernard pri lýceu 🇸🇰, somewhat of a pilgrimage site for us in Bratislava. Tiny, cheap and completely shorn of pretence, this is a holdout boozer that has perhaps a minor cult reputation around the city. We found an article recently where it features on a list of ‘Pubs in Bratislava you need a lot of courage to enter‘. Part of that is to do with the service which, it would seem, is equally unfriendly to locals as it is to the very few tourists who wander in. This is self-service, not table service though, so if you come armed with basic phrases, you’ll be fine. Select the beer of your choice from a generous selection (including seasonal specials, this time a strong red/amber lager, the Easter Velikonoční Speciál on tap, and find a seat. The locals are not hostile and the atmosphere feels tolerant. After a short while of being sussed as English, we had a friendly chat about football with a few of them.

The train then beckoned and this concentrated hit of Slovakia had to suffice. Off we went to the station and to Vienna.

Vienna 🇦🇹

Travelling with my partner, Vienna was a first time visit for her, something like 6th or 7th for myself. I had found the city a tough nut to crack for bars, most of the best venues spread out geographically, some hidden behind opaque terminology and formats. Plenty are too foody, some leaning overly towards café culture to qualify. This is not like Prague where in some districts you have a genuine chance of finding a nice pub on any street corner. Gradually though, Vienna’s top quality options reveal themselves.

After visiting the excellent Third Man Film museum, checking in and a bit of a rest, we ventured out for the evening and to our first pub, the best in the city – Känguruh 🇦🇹. One of those pubs that maintains low lighting throughout the day, once inside time appears to stand still. It could be 7pm, it could be 3am. A true refuge. It was also very busy, slightly taking us by surprise (though it was Saturday night, it tends to get going after 10pm) meaning the first 30 minutes were propped at the bar until a table became free. A compact space with muted lamp lighting, there’s a special atmosphere in the main and back rooms. A duo of servers go back and forth, the elder of which I remember from my first visit in 2015. There have been some changes though, with the Belgian beer bible cut back (although still extensive) allowing for a much bigger range of Austrian beers than previously. Tap options remain simple and straightforward, but the bottle range is among the best in the city. Accompanying this is topped toasties they cook themselves, and an Italian food connection which they ring in. After 20 minutes or so a delivery guy from the next door restaurant appears with your meal. It is a quietly quirky venue with bags of personality.

The plan was to work our way East towards the city centre and back to the apartment. A linear plan sometimes means you end up at bars at the wrong time. I thought our 1st visit to Tanzcafé Jenseits 🇦🇹 may have come too early in the evening, but it was reasonably busy when we appeared. This former brothel has deliberately maintained a tacky boudoir type operation – most successfully in its decor and atmosphere, but the drinks choices and prices could do with an adjustment. Still, as a cult Vienna late bar and one-off experience it was well worth a visit, and no doubt we’ll be back.

3rd venue of the evening, Stehbeisl 🇦🇹 was already busy when we arrived. Our 2nd visit, and we weren’t surprised as it is a small and intimate bar. The Viennese Beisl is a curious term and can mean anything from the most down-at-heel venue, to a family run pokey eatery to a silver-service restaurant. This bar is a long, narrow but social space designed for evening meetups and socialising at a reasonable tempo. The drinks offering is decent with plenty more draft beers than you’d expect for a small space, and a backbar that ably covers cocktails, mixers, and shots. It’s up there as one of the best in the city.

The final stop, Café Bendl 🇦🇹 was the big find of our trip to Vienna last September 2022. Merely yards from Vienna’s finest buildings, this bar has long since given up maintaining any sort of pretense of belonging to such high society, instead luxuriating and diving deep into becoming something else, a venue rich in nostalgia, characterful and peeling, the customers enamoured with the place not because of its sophistication but because of its survival, maintaining its operation in a welcoming, affordable way, weathering every challenge and hardship it faces. Perhaps people can see the truth of this reflected in their own lives. The kind of venue that some people will never understand but is immediately appealing to us. And that was that – away to bed!

Day 2 – All Day In Vienna 🇦🇹

“We shall strike a balance between culture and fun”

Ken, In Bruges

On top of the endless bar going, there is of course the sightseeing, the museums, churches and palaces, the parks, the wacky one-offs, the ice-creams and the meals that lay you low. In Vienna, this means the Hofburg, the Imperial Crypt, Stephan’s Cathedral, Schönbrunn Palace, the Museum Quarter – to mention just a few.

After the trawl around the remnants of the dead empire, a 2nd ever trip to Café Hawelka 🇦🇹 felt appropriate. This almost deliberately dingy café remains largely unaltered since opening in 1939, attracting a literary and artistic scene in the 60s and 70s due to the bohemian atmosphere. These days it is firmly on the tourist circuit but its shape and rhythms are such that the Viennese still know when to pay a visit too. Service is jocular with some very well-dressed comedians popping back and forth. While it is clearly a Café, the atmosphere overall feels pub-like and social enough to qualify.

Combining bar and lunch at Kaffee Alt Wien 🇦🇹 came next, also our 2nd visit. Another historic Viennese café, this is hewn into a bar with appealing features such as the many cultural event posters plastered on the wall, the pool table, the racy oil painting (you’ll see it) and the rows of bench seating that make it feel casual enough to drop by for socialising. While they could go further, particularly in respect of drinks, it’s still pretty good.

The weather was pretty changeable to say the least, so after looking at some dead Hapsburgs for an hour, we dived into one of Vienna’s most famous – perhaps notorious too – venues, Loos American Bar. 🇦🇹 Unprepared for just how small it is, the design of this bar provides a false impression of space online. In fact, most of the space is above you with its high ceilings. The notoriety comes in two very different guises – the architect Herr Loos was later outed as a pederast, while the second is its dress code. Quite reasonably, they don’t allow customers wearing shorts/sandals and there is clear signage outside saying so. This doesn’t stop the hordes of entitled tourists moaning online that they were turned away. Their online score takes a hit as a result. A true one-off as a venue though, its modernist design decades ahead of time, well-preserved and never anything less than eye-catching and distinctive. Backlit tables contrast their cocktails in a quietly understated way, while a deliberately stripped back menu focusing on core components (for good reason, the bar literally does not have any space for more bottles) is creative in its sleight of hand. Expensive of course, possibly among the more expensive in the centre, but entirely worth it for what isn’t just a bar but a museum and experience.

The next stop was Trześniewski 🇦🇹 a famous Vienna institution dating back to 1902. Our first visit here, interest was piqued when hearing about the Pfiff, a tiny beer pour (even smaller than Cologne’s 0.2l Stange glass. As you’ll gather from the name, the founder was Polish, and the format feels somewhat similar, a tastefully retro snack bar with casual tables, the premise is simple. Choose a few finger sandwiches and a Pfiff (In this case Ottakringer Gold Fassl), enjoy a quick chat with your friends and head back. I enjoyed how, similar to a tapas bar, you can be here for a good time not a long time. A truly satisfactory experience here can last no longer than 10 minutes! Something about it is peculiarly addictive. It’s also directly opposite Café Hawelka, so you can stumble out of one and into another (and back again – those sandwiches are good).

Somewhat of a tradition, a trip to Gösser Bierklinik 🇦🇹 followed. A historic restaurant with a Schänke to the right as you enter. The best time to visit here is in the heart of winter, enjoying cosy surroundings in a natural atmosphere, with the occasional sound of horse clops hitting the cobbles outside. A rainy Spring day would have to do. Stiftsbräu Dunkel is the best beer on offer, a delicious rich dark lager.

It was time for a break after all that, and we took it easy in the evening, with food at Gürtelbräu 🇦🇹. This pleasant multitap pub is based in railway arches and a nice modern venue, dimly lit and using the natural ambience of the space, but it was disappointingly not boasting any of its own beers. A reminder to never assume in Austria or Germany a place brews its own beer just because ‘brau’ features in the title. That said, Vienna’s best mainstream beer, Ottakringer Rotes-Zwickl is permanently on tap, so we got over that news pretty quickly. They narrowly missed an inclusion to the guide as it was ridiculously short staffed and the food was pretty mediocre for the price.

The penultimate stop for the evening was a 2nd visit to Mel’s Craft Bar and Diner 🇦🇹. A central beer specialists in a modern, diner style room, we still found the environment oddly sterile despite the warm colours. Stuffy, overly lit, lacking charm and lacking an identity – something a large beer list can never compensate for. The fact we even returned was due to the unexpected closure on the day of Philosopher Bier Bar, an unpretentious little pub that adroitly drums up a comfortable, non-bland social atmosphere which we’d far preferred to have been in.

I thought it best to end the evening somewhere new. Perhaps not the most original choice, but we paid a visit to Delirium Café 🇦🇹 a sort of franchise that has spread across Europe. A curved bar with plenty of space, but lacking atmosphere and perhaps importantly for a Belgian café, short on satisfactory drinks options. The glass of Tremens ordered was also comfortably the worst I’ve had on the continent. Online reviews seem to confirm our suspicions that it was all a bit mediocre. This is an ongoing problem with the very centre of Vienna where a couple of beer bars like the above can prove popular simply due to the absence of competition. Perhaps we learnt something that evening – to not settle for mediocrity on account of convenience.

Day 3 – Final Day in Vienna 🇦🇹

After a dollop of morning culture followed by a dollop of mustard on some Vegan Würst, a 1st visit to Café Sperl 🇦🇹 kicked things off. A city institution, this was always likely to be more of a café than bar, and so it proved. We had hoped there may be a bar like atmosphere with the preserved 1880s interior, and its position as a social fixture, but the ceilings are too high, service is too formal, and the crowd too café like for it to be eligible. That is not to say I disliked it – an Einspänner (espresso with whipped cream) and slice of Sachertorte were delicious and the sense of institution was tangible. But it is a Café, not a bar, somewhere that feels rather like a treat to oneself, a private rather than a socially minded decision.

As we walked back into the city centre a quick search for potential bars uncovered a venue I had missed during cumulative hours of online trawling over the last 8 years. Amazed this slipped the net, Gutruf 🇦🇹 was a wonderful experience! Family-run, a cult Beisl, small informal and preserved venue with a 1970s era appearance. Homely, personalised and distinctive, with a hybrid menu of Chinese and Viennese cooking. The place even hides in plain sight, the street frontage suggesting a barbers or clothes shop that shuttered decades ago. A place you can go for a drink and a chat just as easily, there is an easy informality that belies all preconceptions and lived experience of Vienna’s stuffier pub-restaurants. We recommend.

There must have been 20 minutes to spare in the centre – ah yes, a wait to visit the Cathedral and climb the tower – because our notes confirm we were back in Trześniewski 🇦🇹 munching on sandwiches and sipping on the little Pfiff!

After a very active day out we went back for a rest to recover for the evening.

That evening we paid a 2nd visit of our trip to Känguruh 🇦🇹 . When one of the Top 100 Bars in Europe is on your doorstep, you can’t waste the opportunity!

There was time to try one more venue for the first time – and it was a big one – Jazzland 🇦🇹. A long-standing cult Jazz & Blues venue set in the basement of a 500 year old building, everything jumps out at you immediately to suggest this is going to work. And it does. Tucked around a side courtyard, descend stairs to a ticket counter and clothes room, paying the nominal fee (5 euros in our case) to enter a busy little theatre and basement bar in a warren of rooms. Brick vaults decorated with black & white photos of famous (and not so famous) performers that have appeared over the decades. Drinks are decent, all things considered, with Zwicklbier and Dunkel on tap – not the worst outcome for such a venue. The bar room does not allow for much viewing access, so try your luck in one of the niches or wait until a seat in the main room becomes free. An excitable crowd that sense they are part of the best thing going on in Vienna at that moment – a sensation that leaves a lasting impression. Mark this place on your map – we have.

Day 4 – Graz 🇦🇹

Graz in the southern Styria region is a pleasant 2 hour-something train journey from Vienna, passing by some steadily more scenic and hilly areas (still nothing like out West). With the highest peaks still snowcapped, there was plenty to look at on a pleasant sunny day.

Graz 🇦🇹

On arrival, the best way into the centre is via tram. Somewhat similar to Ghent 🇧🇪 in layout, the very centre is just distant enough from the station to warrant a ticket. The central Hauptplatz stop drops you off in the dead centre of town, with its beautiful pastel coloured buildings and the looming Schlossberg and clock tower overlooking the Altstadt.

Unlike Vienna and Linz, Graz’s old town is happy to wear its cracks and peeling plaster, adding to its sense of historic character, and is UNESCO-inscripted. A small centre, once there pretty much everything is walkable providing you’re relatively mobile.

Before our 3pm hotel check-in we started at Bierboutique 🇦🇹, a bottle shop with some space for drinking in. Service was friendly and helpful, the selection offering a decent range of regional beers and plenty of pricier specialist mixed fermentation stuff. A Witbier dedicated to the Bosniaks was an unexpected and rather random find, but also a good one! As for the venue, it isn’t somewhere you’d go for an evening drink really, with it feeling more like a spot for a quick tasting than a social venue.

Up through the old town and through the city park to one of Graz’s Bauzatslokale. Let’s address what that is first. These ‘kit bars’ are owned by the same company and dotted throughout the city. The concept is that your food – be that pizza, salad, burgers, etc is completely customisable, and you fill out your bingo card according to your needs. Reasonably priced and therefore popular with the University population in the city, these breathe life – pub life – into Graz’s cultural scene. Of those concerned, some are better than others, and in our opinion Grammophon 🇦🇹 qualifies as one of the most pubby, with a genuine ‘local’ feel, somewhere you could pop into to say Hi and relax with friends. A wooden interior natural communal seating around a central bar, and ‘worn-in’ feel that tells of many happy nights spent here. As with almost all pubs in Graz, the not-very-nice Puntigamer lager is available on tap, along with a host of other mid-brow options.

With good weather on our side, a walk up through the Schlossberg (yes, direct through the rock) to the clock tower with beautiful cities views followed, before dropping down back to the city centre.

Occasionally we will drop into businesses on a whim if they look good and today was one of them. Maggie’s Leberkas Stadl 🇦🇹 a venue we were hitherto entirely unaware of, was full of locals mid-afternoon and it looked as though they were having a great time. With a meatloaf counter and stools opposite a bar you may begin to wonder if this is some arch hipster venue – far from it. Decorated in a slightly camp – but very Germanic – way, full of friendly – rather drunk – middle aged folk, here is where pretense – and perhaps decorum – goes to die. We both enjoyed the refreshingly no f’s given environment and the fact a pub was actually busy during the typically dead hours of the day, but can’t really justify its inclusion.

The next stop before a break for a rest + dinner was the inverse to the previous place. Thirsty Heart 🇦🇹. Better beers, plenty of artifice and pretense, but no soul, and fewer people – sullen staff weren’t exactly filling the void either. A slate grey room, you look around for something to hold on to other than the glass of beer – and it isn’t there.

After a stomach-lining dinner we took a walk out to Graz’s University district, a pocket of nightlife around Zinzendorfgasse. Here, the best Bausatzlokale, Posaune 🇦🇹 can be found. Another bar with a natural social shape that invites mixing and encounters, producing a dynamic atmosphere. The place is also a worn-in, homely sort of pub that you can hang out in at quieter times. Our 2nd visit here and definitely not our last.

Our next selection, back in the centre was a bar I had mulled over going to in September 2022 until I walked into the middle of a Pub Quiz and a crowded room. This time however, there was ample room in Hops Craft Beer Pub 🇦🇹 which was a pleasant surprise – less of an ex-pat/tourist crowd than expected, and much less ‘crafty’. Instead a healthy mix of people that injected a good sense of social character in historic vaults that are tastefully decorated. It doesn’t hurt that there are several nice beers here – something that should never be taken for granted when you look around Europe.

Tiring but with enough in the tank for a nightcap, a 2nd stop at Brot & Spiele 🇦🇹 an unusual venue. Large, with a pub room and games area, on my first visit I found the environment fell well short, but this was because I was hanging around the games area, having walked past where I should have sat. Walk left into the pub itself which is a pleasant enough place decorated with some classic breweriana and furnished with communal booths. The beer selection is atypically excellent for a games pub. While perhaps not cutting edge, plenty of better traditional options are on offer on draft and tap. Would it feature on our guide – no, that would be a bit of a stretch, but it is good enough to have in your pocket as an option while in Graz.

Day 5 – Graz and Arnold Schwarzenegger 🇦🇹

Arnie’s childhood home is in Thal, a picturesque village that’s a short bus ride and pleasant country ramble from Graz. After morning coffee we took a literally last minute decision to attempt to visit. This was a little reckless given the buses out there are very infrequent. But, as normally happens, everything turned out fine. The museum is small and the entrance fee a little steep, but when were we next going there? (never) And when are we ever going back? (Also never). Underplaying Arnie’s Dad’s far-right leanings with some expert deployment of euphemism, overall it felt more appropriate that the experience emphasises the general cheese and gurning, simple-minded good vibes Schwarzenegger delivers.

Our first visit of the day was an adventurous and novel one. Before now we had only read about Heuriger culture in Austria. These taverns are often family affairs, wine producers with a hospitality focus, often putting on spreads and buffets to accompany their wines. Normally these are based in the hills but occasionally some pop up on the fringes of cities. We were fortunate it wasn’t too difficult to visit Lucky’s Heuriger 🇦🇹, a venue out in the suburbs but just about reachable via tram and bus after a walk. Completely local with a homely, pubby environment inside, full of personal touches that feels like being in someone’s lounge. Wines and the buffet were both simple but distractingly good quality and came in at good value. The cuts of meat were close to par with a meal I had paid over triple for the previous evening. Hospitality was as good as advertised, and the slight adrenalin rush of going somewhere largely untouched by tourists did the rest. An experience we will revisit as soon as we can.

Spring was finally arriving and we enjoyed spectacularly good ice cream from Die Eisperle in Jakobinplatz in the nearby Blumengarten, a little tulip-laden fountain square that begins the run from Herrengasse towards the Hauptplatz. The sugar rush sustained a trip around the Landeszeughaus, the biggest collection of Medieval European armor in the world. Afterwards, we took a walk up to Kaiser Ferdinand II’s mausoleum, a typically extravagant and hubristic affair, but at least such things are entertaining centuries on, better that than some dour alternative!

After a break from these cultural exertions it was time to venture out for the evening beginning with Bier Baron 🇦🇹, our 2nd visit and the 3rd of these Bauzatslokale. This visit really showed off the pub’s charms versus a quieter afternoon last September. While it may be too mainstream for some, a simple versatile format shows why it’s a hit. A DIY pizza and Zwicklbier later, and we were fuelled for the evening ahead.

Our next stop was an intriguing cocktail bar named The Churchill 🇦🇹, which fell somewhere in between student hangout and gentleman’s club (Oi – not that kind). Despite pretensions to exclusivity, the atmosphere was pretty informal and cordial with a mix of people, while the cocktail menu offered classics on top of their house specials. While there is some amusingly dodgy framed art, taking a balanced appraisal of the bar’s appeal overall, it deserves an inclusion to our guide.

Further down the hill in Graz’s attractive moneyed suburbs of Geidorf is Humboldtkeller 🇦🇹, a surviving old family-run Beisl. Longstanding but with very little presence and recent reviews to suggest it was still open. We are glad to confirm it is going strong. Friendly service, Yugoslav pub grub (which is very much not the focus), candlelit tables and attractive curved ceiling is a flavour of what to expect at this quaint, atmospheric little hideaway that has deservedly become a cult hit in Graz over the decades for Jazz & Rock, and cosy atmosphere. We liked it.

Our last stop was back in town, a basement cocktail bar that was locked up on a previous attempt. Caffe Hallo Josephine, 🇦🇹 was a little short on online presence but with plenty of glowing reviews. In the end our experience fell below that hype. Kindly service in a tiny little basement, it was not without charm but lacking a few flourishes in the décor, while the cocktails appeared to be constructed without much assurance.

So there is Graz. Our 2nd visit to the city, this is not a place lacking in decent options for both beers, cocktails, music or community events. It lacks that one killer venue I suppose, though that is no great crime. After a night’s sleep it was time to move on and visit Slovenia for the 1st time since 2014!

Day 6 – Slovenia 🇸🇮 – Maribor & Ptuj

The journey to Slovenia from Graz is about as straightforward an international crossing as you can find, without much delay or bureaucracy, you will land in Maribor train straight around an hour after departure.

Maribor 🇸🇮

Maribor is a nice little town – particularly its unheralded central square and riverside – and will make an acceptable half day/evening for tourists interested. After a look at its modest, vaguely unwelcoming cathedral, we were quickly en route to Pub Gambrinus 🇸🇮, a little place that specialises in Czech 🇨🇿 ales and lagers. Noticing our conversation in English, the owner introduced himself and explained his connection to a roster of beers that are frankly extraordinary to find outside Czechia – and would be pretty damn good to find in Czechia too. Aside of that aspect, it’s a characterful little knajpa, clearly inherited from a previous operation, worn wood, raised seating area and street terrace. While some of the signage veers towards those inane beer sayings and even worse, ‘Live Laugh Love’ type stuff, that is ignorable.

Before moving onto Ptuj there was time to visit Kavarnica Rokaj 🇸🇮, a very down to earth Caffe Bar by the river, currently engulfed in building work. With a surprisingly good beer selection – including local craft, I couldn’t fault the produce, or the soundtrack, but unfortunately the venue is the typical awful Balkans café bar mess.

Following a minor train delay, we even had time in a 3rd Maribor venue, Shakespeare Pub 🇸🇮. A battered old theme pub with wood fittings, it at least vaguely resembled a pub. Staff who appeared to be about 16 years old churned out the typical rubbish lagers, so it was time to get a bottle of Laško, as vile as I remembered.

The journey to Ptuj takes a frustrating L-shape, and a delay backing our of Praguersko ended any prospect of reaching Ptuj castle before closing time. This just left us with a wander around, and it is a very pretty little town.

Ptuj 🇸🇮

A wine producing region, we had hoped to go somewhere to try local wines, but unfortunately none of the cellars were open. We were invited to have some wine at the bar at Hotel Mitra, 🇸🇮 one of the potential wine tasting venues in lieu of their cellar tastings, but it was a drab experience and one of the real wastes of time of the trip.

Ptuj is home to the Kurent, a mystical character who chases away winter to beckon in spring, and it certainly felt like they had paid Slovenia their annual visit on this warm sunny April day. One of Ptuj’s cultural centres is Muzikafe 🇸🇮, a historic building and one that enjoys minor national fame. The interior is a warren of rooms in a café lounge style, warm 1990s type hues with sofas you can sink into and large books to lose yourself in. So far so normal – but the venue is brought into interest with its courtyard area with creative metal art installations and seating niches, which comes alive in the summer months – it is worth mentioning a few superior beer options in the fridge too. Certainly in a small town like Ptuj it shouldn’t be overlooked.

After a meal and a rest we ventured out to a pub we were confident would deliver – we had researched it in advance but it was also mentioned by the bar guy at Gambrinus in Maribor. In the commercial centre of Ptuj you’ll find Kavarna Bodi 🇸🇮 occupying a tall Austrian-era building. This cultural centre, bar and café similarly lays on the amenities for the public, but has more of an edge and relevance. On arrival we were nearly turned away after the limited seating at the main bar was taken. Staff explained a live performance was ongoing in the main room with a 15 euro entry fee, however after some negotiation we were allowed to enter, and enjoyed the last half hour or so. The main room with its tall ceilings and eclectic furniture and installations is cosy, instantly likeable and obviously one of the region’s best social spaces. The experience was accentuated with a very decent beer selection that will keep most tastes satisfied. After the gig and a little exploring of the premises we returned to the bar room to find an available table, and had a 2nd drink in the fairylit surroundings of the bar – a nice place indeed.

A drunken walk home allowed just enough time to visit local’s bar Orfej. While the other venues have their particular charms and audience, this was clearly the pub where the Ptuj residents, those with a stake in proceedings perhaps, hang out. We got the predictable few looks on our entry and were almost caught out by their closing time. Busy and bustling, it had plenty of atmosphere but overall was lacking a little in a distinctive appearance, and perhaps a little in terms of hospitality. We were ushered out pretty promptly at last orders.

Conclusions – and the road ahead!

Visiting Graz and Vienna relatively soon after our last visits in September 2022 was a good opportunity to reaffirm some initial impressions and build on our exploration of their bar scene. Vienna ended up being a success with some excellent bars added to the guide, whereas with Graz we mainly built on breadth rather than depth.

Slovenia is, as always, strikingly beautiful and it is nice to see most venues we visited going beyond the Union and Laško beer options. It feels like we missed out on some of Ptuj’s best bits, which is a source of regret when you may not return for 10 years, but at its bar scene was certainly not neglected.

In the next 6 days we would cross over to Croatia 🇭🇷, visiting Varaždin for a night and the capital Zagreb for 5 nights, both places we had not visited for 10 years. Would they yield the next great inscription on The European Bar Guide? Watch this space!

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Le Pot Au Lait, Liège

9.5/10

Le Pot Au Lait: A surrealist masterpiece and rite of passage.

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Address: Rue Soeurs-de-Hasque 9, 4000 Liège, Belgium
Nearest Station: Liège-Carré , 10 mins walk
Opening Hours: 11am-4am Monday-Saturday, 2pm-2am Sunday (Due to Coronavirus restrictions this may change, so check with the bar directly for any latest info)

History
Le Pot au Lait is located on Soeurs de Hasque in the heart of Liege. Number 9 is a magnificent house from the 19th century built over an ancient convent which held, from the end of the 15th century, sisters from another convent from Hasselt, a Flemish city, being often called “Haske” in Liege, “The Sisters from Haske” gave their name to the street. Here is how the bar was founded:

“In 1973 a group of students created a place that until then had never existed in Liège where they could organise films, concerts, debates, theme days, free of any official politics. They found what they were looking for at No 9 Soeurs de Hasque Street and it opened as “Trou Perrette”.

In 1979, it became obvious that a second bar was needed next to the “Trou Perrette”. So we needed a name and after a brain storming session came up with “Pot au Lait” in reference to a fable from a french poet, Jean de La Fontaine (1621-1695) called “The Dairywoman and the Pot of milk”.

In 1981, the Trou Perrette closed its doors for the last time. But now you know why the Pot-au-Lait became the Pot-au-Lait“

The Pub

These days, Le Pot Au Lait continues its historic function, being the beating heart of nightlife and social affairs in the city. It would be untrue to say that this is a student venue either, more a youthful rite of passage that stays with you afterwards, one of those rare things, a pub you keep returning to over and over long after the early years.

Set off the main street, you will enter through a narrow courtyard, already spying the decorations festooned left and right. Some people will be hanging out on the terrace. The place gives off good vibes straight away.

Then, enter through to what at first appears to be a greenhouse, with uneven flooring. The ethos is akin to Hundertwasserhaus in Vienna, with a commitment to uneven surfaces, and heterodox approach. To call it distinctive is underselling it. Cartoon gorillas, carnival scenes, macabre taxidermy, graffiti, tall plants and more that would take too long to describe. Le Pot Au Lait is the funfair that got lost one day and decided to lay down roots.

Like some of the best bars in Europe: Szimpla Kert, ‘t Brugse Beertje, Zlatna Ribica, to name but a few, the place has an immediate draw that comes from sensing that everyone is having a great time, the excitement of being in the place to be.

It’s pretty cool too that Le Pot Au Lait is located somewhere like Liége. No, not somewhere fashionable for the nightlife like Brussels or Hamberg or Copenhagen, but this down-at-heel working class city in Wallonia.

Anyway, it’s time for a drink, don’t you think? You’re very well served here with several tap options and a suite of bottles covering a reasonably broad range of Belgium’s better beers. Perhaps they could serve a few more specialist options for the sniffier customers, but there is something here for most beer drinkers. Being popular with a younger crowd, there is also a reasonable selection of alternatives. You’d think this might be one of the more expensive venues too, but some choices appear genuinely cheap, and will certainly come across that way after a few days in the much more expensive end of Belgium.

Once served, plonk yourself among the communal niches surrounding the bar, the atrium (good for people watching), the mezzanine level or any little hidey-hole that suits your needs. Go for a wander around, because this is an art gallery as well as a bar.

Le Pot Au Lait has maintained a commitment to culture and the arts, so while we’d be perfectly happy if they just served drinks, it deserves extra commendation for hosting live events and being a communal meeting spot. Long opening hours mean this is a versatile venue that suits a quiet afternoon hangout or raucous late night drinks, each enjoyable in their own right.

We give bars a 10/10 rating when they are reasons in and of themselves to visit a place, and Le Pot Au Lait certainly justifies that.

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Au Delft, Liège

There is a certain delight in finding a diamond in the rough, not least when it’s a brown café. Liège’s careworn and ramshackle districts provide plenty of rough – this is not a city that has enjoyed the most tasteful town planning, nor preservation of its heritage. There are quirky features and surprising beauty spots if you are determined to find them. Impasses, a giant staircase, quiet side streets, timber framed buildings sprinkled across the city, and upon arrival a dramatically different (if annoyingly distant) ultra-modern railway station.

This city is certainly not one to write-off, but on a grey weekend, the place seems overburdened with regret about its numerous ill-maintained architectural mistakes, not to mention the inevitable results that come from relatively pauce economic circumstances.

Wallonia is not the well-to-do side of Belgium these days, and hasn’t been for a long time. While it is breathtakingly beautiful in its rural areas and some small towns, a visit to its cities (the likes of Charleroi or Liège) is more than a tad reminiscent of the atmosphere you’ll find visiting dour towns in Northern France, especially in comparison to the well-financed Flemish cities of Ghent and Antwerp.

However, a reliable general rule is: the more hard-nosed a city, the worse its climate, the more likely it will be crammed full of drinking holes. Liège proves this quite adequately, as a cursory search will reveal, you can barely turn a corner in the centre without bumping into some bar or other, while certain streets have a local notoriety.

Some bars, such as Taverne St. Paul, Café Lequet and Le Pot Au Lait are, for their own differing reasons, Liégeois institutions, the bright lights that draw everyone in (those with good taste, anyway). However, today we are going to focus on a more understated city centre venue, Au Delft.

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Au Delft is a corner bar situated in an art deco influenced grey-brown brick city building with a quarter-circle frontage and circular windows running down each storey. The structure is non-committal and the materials used are unattractive in colour, so the impression lands in an uncanny valley between noticeably funky and downright ugly.

It doesn’t seem as though this would contain anything preserved except perhaps the embryonic ego of a reckless architect, but one look at the Jupiler signage, and the ground floor bar indicates that something interesting may be inside – or at the absolute very least, somewhere to buy a beer.

Step inside under a large dark green awning to discover a well-preserved bar blending stylish décor (appearing to span from the early ’50s to ’70s to my eye), with features and fittings that regularly appear in brown cafés, one of my absolute favourite styles of bar. Their name itself references a medieval town in Western Netherlands, a heartland of the brown café or bruine kroege.

That Au Delft now feels frozen in time is no accident – they knew they were onto a winner with this place and haven’t altered the format. Unlike the thousands of idiots who have vandalised amazing pubs and bars over the years, the owners have chosen to retain what made it special and ignored the nearly irrepressible human instinct to follow trends.

The bar area itself is magnificent. Faded with age but handsomely redeemed by its character. This scene is juxtaposed with a chess board tiled floor, which wouldn’t be my preferred choice usually, but works brilliantly for this place.

Some small details set this place apart, without adding clutter. The newspaper clips, the beautiful painted lettering on the mirrors which are installed in the partitions above crimson leather-backed seats. Indications of present tradition and ritual mixed with a melancholy legacy of days that are long gone, never to return.

Some of this reminded me of Au Daringman, in Brussels, another out-of-time venue,  that exudes confidence and contentment in what it is.

If you are used to paying 4 euros 50 for a quarter litre of beer in Brussels bars then you will scarcely believe your eyes when you discover the prices. Yes, pleasingly these are pitched to attract the custom locals rather than fleece tourists, but when allowing for Au Delft’s city centre location it comfortably beats some of the local competition too.

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Au Delft are not competing with those bars that are trying to start their own seed bank of beer for when the human race faces extinction, but they carefully tick off most of the main traditional Belgian beer styles and none of these could be said to be poor value: far from it.

There is actually something relieving about being spared the task of rifling through a Bible to choose between hundreds of beers and dozens of styles each time you desire a drink.

With my limited French I struggled a little to get my point across (there’s nothing more confidence-sapping than delivering a sentence which you are fairly confident is grammatically correct and well-pronounced only to receive a reaction of complete opacity and confusion) but thankfully the service was more than kind enough to offer patience in that regard. Any beer you select will be served to your table along with a small tray of nuts, which is a little token of mutual back-scratching I always like. After all, once the salt gets to work, further liquid is required.

The crowd in Au Delft is a mixture of loyal older regulars who have instant recognition and are well cared for by the staff. You will also find couples wanting a quiet drink and the occasional group of young friends.

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Au Delft has a nice convivial atmosphere whether quiet or busy, partly down to the carefully preserved décor and sense of refuge. It is both an excellent place for quiet contemplation or jovial conversation.

I was on limited time and so could only stay for a couple of beers, but I could have easily remained in Au Delft all evening. The impossible prospect of turning a place into my local, to get to know the other staff and become part of the fixtures of the bar are often one of the melancholy aspects of travelling. Often I am happy just to have found the venue and spent a night there, but Au Delft is one of those places I suspect you can only truly ‘find’ when you have visited for many years.

While Au Delft may not be the first name on everyone’s lips when it comes to nightlife in Liège, their quietly confident style, preserved features, genuine local life, friendly service and great value mean that it can’t be missed out and it comfortably earns a place on our guide as being one of the best pubs in Europe.

Our Rating:  8/10

Quality and/or choice of drinks – 8/10

Style and Decor – 8/10

Character, Atmosphere and/or Local Life – 8/10

Amenities, Events & Community – 7/10

Value for Money – 8/10

The Pub-Going Factor – 8/10

Location
https://goo.gl/maps/vYzrgmhtpQ8cixuw7
Address
Place Cockerill 22, 4000 Liège, Belgium
Website
N/A
Telephone
 +32 4 221 45 70

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Domkeller, Aachen

…back to Germany

  • Quality and/or choice of drinks – 8/10
  • Style and Decor – 8/10
  • Character, Atmosphere and/or Local Life – 10/10
  • Amenities & Events – 7/10
  • Value for Money – 7/10
  • The Pub-Going Factor –  9/10
Hof 1, 52062 Aachen, Germany

Although it shouldn’t, it comes as a surprise to me, as much as a relief to have located a cosy, non-corporate pub slap-bang in the middle of a European city centre.

However, Belgium and Netherlands make a habit of it, and these nations just so happen to be Aachen’s closest neighbours.

This German border city and the Low Countries (either of which can be reached in an hour walk from Aachen centre) share a host of cultural cues, with the city itself having initial importance as a Roman spa town before the cult of Imperial Rome spawned Charlemagne and the crowning of 31 Holy Roman Emperors in the subsequent centuries. Aachen also enjoyed a position as a major trading point between nations, goods and wares shipped from the North Sea ports, which may help explain the cultural overlap.

Don’t be under the impression Aachen is any less German for it – believe me, Aachen is a firm fixture of Nord-Rhein Westphalia, and this mixture today results in interesting blends of buildings as you walk around town. Its town hall and surrounding Gothic buildings in the Altstadt could as easily appear as far away as Ghent or Nijmegen without raising any suspicion, but similarly, the remnants of the city wall and the post-war reconstruction are as German as it comes. The cultural centre of Aachen isn’t a large ensemble of buildings when compared to some places, but they are nonetheless impressive and occupy a bigger portion of the city than Cologne or Dusseldorf’s old towns, for example. Aachen is easy to get to from virtually anywhere nearby, and its attractions justify you spending a night here.

Domkeller is situated in the heart of town in an attractive brick townhouse on the small Hof square (you know you’re somewhere central when Hof appears). The scene is made all the more picturesque by a ruined arch halfway along and the distinctive houses that line the square, all fitted with huge grid windows of the kind you normally expect to see on Burgher houses.

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The risk is that Domkeller could so easily be one of those common tourist traps and a let-down given its advantageous situation. Instead, you will find the opposite is true.

Domkeller is neither based at the cathedral, or in fact a cellar venue (that ceased to be true in the 1980s, apparently, due to safety regulations), however its proximity and age, dating back at least until the 1950s justifies a name of such significance.

This pub enjoys a handsome trade of local people both young and old who are happy to sit and socialise among the odd tourist (such as myself) or group of businessmen that are passing through.

It’s a place that invites interactions with other people; that magic chemistry where strangers who would otherwise be ignoring each other feel they can cross the divide. That alone would be a good reason to include Domkeller on our guide. Aside of that – the antifascist sign near the entrance is proof that many of these elements go hand-in-hand.

Be assured, the appeal doesn’t stop there. As you walk in through a corner door you will find a cosy room with bar area to your right and communal bench seating with fixed small tables. To your left is some chunkier furniture and further benches. Beyond the bar area is the second part of the room, which again is based around bench seating by the walls and has the effect that most of the time you are spent in an enclosed space where you are looking at and interacting with what’s inside rather than what’s outside.

Domkeller accepts orders at the bar but keeps table service operating and prefers that – it is quick, attentive and polite without being too formal. You’ll be needing a drink of course, and here is where Domkeller comes into its own.

The choices of beer are certainly quality over quantity, but even this selection is encyclopaedic when compared to most German venues. Here at Domkeller, several bases are covered. They have various styles of German beer on tap covering Kolsch, Altbier, Landbier, Pils and Hefeweissbier – most of which are from medium-sized, not corporate breweries – and a suite of Belgian bottles which are mostly the familiar Trappist and Abbey ales, but nonetheless hugely welcome in a nation that is not fond of selling beer brewed by anyone except themselves. Believe me, travel east from Domkeller, stop in each pub you find and it will be a long time before you see as many Belgium beers again.

The atmosphere is also quite fitting for drinking whisky, something which the management appear to have recognised a long time ago – take a look at the drinks menu for a few interesting options.

Prices are along the typical level for this part of the world – perhaps cheaper than Maastricht up the road, a little cheaper than Cologne too, though perhaps a little more expensive than Liege and the rest of Wallonia, which is after all a poorer region of Belgium than Flanders. For a city centre venue, it’s fair value.

Domkeller’s website claims their Weinstube (the upper floor, accessed via a central staircase by the end of the bar) is converted into a small concert hall every Monday night, which I can imagine drumming up even more atmosphere in this place. These start at 8PM, and the pub won’t accept new entrants after 7.30PM.

The upper floor is a lighter shade than the downstairs with a surprisingly high ceiling, though still decorated in a simple, traditional style. There is a gently sloping roof at one side of the room which adds a bit of character. I would rather be downstairs, but would certainly accept a seat upstairs if that was what remained.

Domkeller have a relaxed attitude towards bringing food into eat, which is a refreshing change and shows the sort of pragmatism that people who know pubs recognise but accountants do not. Clearly any food is going to make a person thirsty for more of their fine beers – who loses?

Have I mentioned the opening hours yet? Bloody brilliant! How many cities have I been to that practically shut up shop by midnight? A lot. Too many. Expect Domkeller to serve your needs well into the early hours of the morning, in fair weather or foul, throughout the week.  This, along with the friendly company and Belgian ales explained why I found it very difficult to leave and go to bed!

Speaking of weather, the place throws itself open as the weather improves, with outside seating on the square. This is of course a pleasant place to sit back and enjoy the sun, but the true character of the place is indoors in my opinion, a wonderful refuge from the bitter winter weather – the core creation should be at the core of the appeal.

Across Europe, places like Domkeller, based so close to the centre of the city, have ceased to be cult venues long ago and sold out to middle aged tourists to become a generic café.

It’s great to see that the real character of Aachen endures and therefore we say, ‘long live Domkeller’ – and hopefully see you again very soon!

 

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Café Mulder, Amsterdam

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Weteringschans 163, 1017 XD Amsterdam, Netherlands
  • Quality and/or choice of drinks –7/10
  • Style and Decor – 8/10
  • Character, Atmosphere and/or Local Life – 8/10
  • Amenities, Events & Community – 7/10
  • Value for Money – 6/10
  • The Pub-Going Factor –  8/10

Picture the scene: Amsterdam in winter, one of those dire evenings when gales blow in off the North Sea all the way up De Pijp, whipping sleet in your face. Meanwhile, the going underfoot lurches from ice rink to quagmire with each step. Checking to your right for the cyclist that probably isn’t there (but inevitably will break your arm the one time you don’t bother checking) – and then left to see if any motorists fancy testing how well their airbags work. Each movement of your leg invites a splash of freezing sludge and fresh test of your balance.

Across the roundabout we spot a window glowing like a beacon, heat from the room condensing on the glass, the silhouette of drinkers and the sound of good cheer – it’s a pub – rarely has there been a more fine or  welcome sight.

Shuffling precariously across the ice I spot the sign above the bar confirming the establishment and nothing can stop us now. While there isn’t video evidence to prove otherwise, you may take my word for it, I’ve never homed in on an Amstel sign with such vigour and enthusiasm.

Amsterdam is well-used to this appallingly unpleasant weather and therefore well-prepared in its provision of shelter and booze. In late spring and summer Café Mulder flings open its doors and spreads out into the street front, but on a night like tonight this traditional brasserie turns into a refuge.

Being hugged, wrapped in a fresh towel and ushered inside would be the ideal welcome, but the blast of warmth and prospect of a stiff drink ably substitutes.

The pub was as busy as it looked from the outside, full of folk relieved indeed to be anywhere except outside. Now, ensconced among a mixture of regulars and tourists, a drink and a chat will do the trick very nicely.

Seeing an Amstel sign would normally be a bad omen, but their sickly dross is ubiquitous in the city and it’s genuinely more difficult to find such a place that doesn’t also serve other, better beer. So, here you can choose between a pint of that insipid liquid or a smaller portion of something far nicer for the same price.

Outside of craft beer enthusiasts perhaps, it’s difficult to think that beer drinkers could be too upset by the selections here, especially as the place isn’t wholly beer-focused. The likes of Brugse Zot and De Koninck on tap, and at least 7 or 8 genuinely good bottles provide a stock that, while it could be better in variation and sizes, covers several bases well and isn’t going to let too many people down.

It’s nice to see that the place provides a small selection of food rather than turning itself into a dining room, so if you fancy wolfing down some soup, toasties or bitterballen (I wouldn’t blame you in weather like this) get involved. You can even get a hot boiled egg – very old fashioned and it doesn’t take away from the pub feel.

There’s a bit of extra character too with a pub cat and you’ll note it claims to be “the most authentic pub in Amsterdam“. A bold claim (not one it backs up in any way) but this is really for you to explore and see for yourself.

Ronald Pattinson of European Beer Guide fame – a man worth listening to about Dutch brown cafés – commented:

“I’m still regularly pleasantly surprised by Amsterdam’s pub scene. While simple, unpretentious cafés like this survive in such numbers, I’ll pass on the razor blades.”

Mulder fits into the brown café aesthetic beloved of the Low Countries but has a hint of the French brasserie to my eyes, with enormous windows and a more classically corner bar layout.  The pub-like elements come from an impressively ornate bar area and shelf unit, the stylish old décor, rustic furniture and the type of socialising going on within, which certainly on a bitter night swings towards the communal. The sense of history helps too, with a lot of features looking turn of the 20th century.

London is blessed to have a huge number of pubs in the same way Amsterdam does, of a variety as-good-as-duplicated many times over. However, with a few exceptions, many of these London pubs have been made more generic by unimaginative owners or pub-companies, the scourge of character and identity. In London, I suspect this place would have gone the way of Nicholsons or Taylor Walker in the last decade and had its soul expunged, but pleasingly, one of the nicest things to say about Café Mulder is that it is not unique, it is not an oasis surrounded by a desert, but it’s common, frequent to find and that’s what makes Amsterdam still so thoroughly enjoyable. We should celebrate the fact that a place this good is only a notch above the mean average for a brown café in Amsterdam. Is this the inverse of damning with faint praise? I hope so.

Anyway, to boil it down, Mulder is a great place to go for a drink, and you know what? I managed to write all that without a single X-Files joke. Cheers!

For further reading – right hit and click Translate to enjoy this superb article by Josh Wolf, which goes into the rich history of Café Mulder: https://josh-wolf.blogspot.com/2013/11/cafe-mulder-te-amsterdam-weteringschans.html

 

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Insomnia, Cluj-Napoca

back to Romania

Strada Universității 2, Cluj-Napoca 400091, Romania
  • Quality and/or choice of drinks –6/10
  • Style and Decor – 8/10
  • Character, Atmosphere and/or Local Life – 9/10
  • Amenities, Events & Community – 7/10
  • Value for Money – 7/10
  • The Pub-Going Factor –  8/10

Insomnia in the Romanian city of Cluj-Napoca claims the title of the longest continuing pub in town.

22 years (23 in May this year) doesn’t seem to me a long time in the life of a pub, so perhaps this has something to do with the turbulence of the revolution at the turn of the ‘90s, and/or a change in cultural trends? I am from a country where so many pubs have remained open over a hundred years or more, so this strikes me as peculiar.

Cluj-Napoca is a university town and so the nightlife reflects the demands of young people. You’ll struggle to find anywhere (deserving of the label ‘pub’ at least) where young and old people mix as they would in England, or indeed many other countries in Mainland Europe. In fact it was difficult to find the sort of old-man’s drinking hole you’d expect to see everywhere. Another surprise.

Insomnia is very much geared towards a younger crowd – if not young then young at heart – with bright, psychedelic décor, paint thrown up the wall Jackson Pollock style and giant lampshades covered in stretched Insomnia-logo t-shirts. About that logo – a not particularly discreet drawing of two animals humping. That aside, the place is funky and seems to have survived 15 years without looking overly dated.

You will notice from their website a rather esoteric mission statement (some of which might be lost in translation) which is reflected in the bar itself. It is the perigee between taking themselves too seriously and not taking themselves seriously at all. This must come from its early days as an art gallery. While the venue is now predominantly a bar, they still host events of varying flavours – book launches, poetry readings, the odd festival here and there.

 

The bar, as with most you’ll find in Cluj, is set up for sitting rather than standing, which means dealing with table service – not my favourite thing in the world. In Romania I noticed some people become rather upset when they have to order at the bar. Not sure why – getting drinks that way is quicker, direct and you can settle the bill there and then, saving everyone time and effort.

Insomnia also has a slightly different format in that they expect you to settle the bill upon the drinks being served, which took a little getting used to when most table service involves you settling the bill at the end of the evening. I can only imagine they have had some trouble with people leaving without paying – which again could be solved by switching to bar service!

The other gripe is that, quite alike other central European countries, it is possible to reserve tables in advance. Is this a good thing? In practice this hardly ever works well in a pub, as it deters people who haven’t got a reservation sitting in that spot until the reservation starts, costing the bar money and making the arrangement feel off-putting. Also, when the bar is really busy, save for two or three empty tables, simply because of a couple of reservations that may last for only one round of drinks, where is the logic there?

In Cluj, all beers seem to have arrived on the same lorry, so you can expect the local brew Ursus and its variants (which are okay at best), and other SABMiller-owned brands including some English beers. The choice here is neither great nor terrible – they have covered several bases, but after a couple of days in the city, seeing the identical drinks everywhere becomes a little dull.

Draft beer is also served in 400ml glasses, a cynical way of gaining 20% on every drink, and quite pointless given the bottle sizes are 500ml and often cheaper. It’s difficult to criticise Insomnia over any other Cluj pub for this, as it is unfortunately commonplace. The upshot is that most people order bottles, not draft beer as they are better value for money – given the expense involved in setting up a bar, this seems hideously counter-productive.

Insomnia also offer what they call “long draft”, 2.5l of beer arriving in an enormous trophy-like stand with its own tap which I saw a few people taking ‘advantage’ of.  You know you are in student land when gimmicks like this pop up.

Anyway, moving back to the positives, Insomnia’s atmosphere inside is lively and well-paced, while the surrounding décor certainly helps keep things upbeat.

Insomnia is also based on the first floor of a historic building, which I often like as bars of that sort always feel quite bohemian. Outside the bar you will step out onto the balcony walkway of an inner courtyard, the typical sort of atrium you get in ex-Hapsburg cities (especially those with Hungarian history). This situation is appealling and adds to the experience.

Insomnia can be found just a few seconds walk from the main square, which is also handy as the main squares of European cities are generally host to far more corporate venues than this. Insomnia, more than others, underlines the all-encompassing young feel of the city, not to mention a European city centre that yet hasn’t been ruined by corporatising everything.

Maybe Insomnia will continue for another 23 years to come – and onwards – or perhaps the economic tides will sweep it away. I certainly hope to find it is going strong when I return, and hope it doesn’t take me 23 years to do so!

I strongly recommend Insomnia for your visit to Cluj, primarily as a fun alternative venue, and a strong all-rounder that does a lot of what it takes to be a good bar well, or really well.

Lastly, be aware Insomnia closes at 1AM, so if you are having trouble sleeping, you’ll need to move elsewhere!

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Roncsbár, Debrecen

back to Hungary

Csapó u. 27, 4024 Hungary
  • Quality and/or choice of drinks –5/10
  • Style and Decor – 10/10
  • Character, Atmosphere and/or Local Life – 10/10
  • Amenities, Events & Community – 9/10
  • Value for Money – 8/10
  • The Pub-Going Factor –  10/10

While ruin bars may be synonymous with Budapest, other cities in Hungary quickly taken inspiration from the design and ethos – it was inevitable they would create their own version. Gázfröccs in Sopron and Csillag EzPresszó in Győr both prove that the bar has been raised. Roncsbár in Hungary’s 2nd city Debrecen, is the most convincing example yet that it’s worth leaving Hungary’s megacity to explore the nightlife in the provinces.

While I love an old boozer, such as Wichmann’s in Budapest, it must be said the standards of décor, atmosphere and amenities in Hungarian pubs have shot up dramatically since Szimpla et al arrived on the scene. Roncsbár (Roncs, meaning Wreck) immediately showed that its up to the task.

Established 2013, Roncs is both a cosy pub, a concert hall, a garden terrace and a arty streetfood courtyard, delivering the alluring appeal we love about ruin bars – a combination of rooms to explore as well as cosy areas to congregate. Unlike unsuccessful attempts to export these to the West, it doesn’t feel the least bit corporate, even when you add bouncers and plastic cups (we’ll get to that in a minute).

There is no shortage of ways to spend your evening here, whether that be for a quiet drink, for food, for music and partying, or games. What’s better, the bar is designed in such a way that it never feels like those people are clashing with each other.

While not as enormous as the likes of the Fogas Ház ‘party complex’ or the ruined mansion of Szimpla, there is a fair expanse of space, and just like those it’s exciting to walk through it all for the first time.

Entering via the front door of the pub, you could be fooled for thinking that’s all there is. It is very pleasant – nothing negative to report – the area is focused on drinks and socialising rather than food – fine by me. You’ll find exposed brick and slightly ramshackle wooden tables. The ceiling appears to be studded with cymbals from drum kits (or was I wrong?). There’s a lively atmosphere and if that was it, then Roncsbár would probably warrant inclusion on our website as an 8/10 pub.

But after you’ve taken in the indoors, have a wander around and look for a side door – this will take you into the entrance way for the ruin-pub aspect proper. The design suddenly explodes into an eclectic whirlwind of bric-a-brac and, if you pay attention, some finely-crafted artwork. The cherry on top of the cake is, in this case, a wrecked (get it?!) aeroplane which looks like it has been hung, interior contents an all, to the inside of the roof.

What’s better, is this is heated in the icy winter and well-ventilated, keeping the place comfortable at all times.

Carry on past the stalls to find a courtyard seating area which will appeal to anyone wanting to watch some sport (big screen, of course) and a terrace garden area – closed on my visit due to the snowy weather – but definitely a further area to spread out in spring and summer. Barbecue? Yes please.

Drinks are about on standard with most Hungarian bars, however their website boasts they have their own-label beer from Rendelkezik (Reindeer?) which I must admit I didn’t see. It’s still possible to get a standard lager for a fair price and nothing here, be it beer, wine or spirits will offend most local or foreign wallets. If you’re outside you will be made to drink it in a plastic cup – on the upside no-one has to worry about broken glass.

Service can be a bit rushed and impersonal in that way all popular places end up being, but that isn’t a reason to mark this place down.

Unlike Budapest, there really is only one place like this in Debrecen, certainly making it stand out. There will always be one or two people of a contrary or conservative nature who take a dislike to these bars. You can’t please all of the people all of the time, but Roncsbár comes pretty damn close.

I love being able to dip in and out of events that are happening, be able to get some fresh air, or have a sit down, and still be in the same place, and still have something interesting to look at.

Please note that Debrecen has a very lively, albeit dispersed nightlife and there are several pubs of a very different style that are also worth visiting. Please see HERE.

There are only a few bars that have earned our 10/10 score, and so congratulations goes to Roncsbár. Long live the Wreck!

 

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U Zlatého Tygra, Prague

back to Czechia

Husova 228/17, Staré Město, 110 00 Praha 1, Czechia

Nearest Square: Staroměstské náměstí

Nearest Metro Stop: Staroměstská

Hours: 15:00 – 23:00, Monday-Sunday

Reservations: +420 222 221 111

  • Quality and/or choice of drinks – 8/10
  • Style and Décor – 8/10
  • Character, Atmosphere and/or Local Life – 8/10
  • Amenities, Events & Community – 6/10
  • Value for Money – 8/10
  • The Pub-Going Factor –  8/10

Anyone with a mild interest in the European bar scene or the city of Prague will no doubt have heard of U Zlatého Tygra (At The Golden Tiger), the historic Czech pub and city institution based slap-bang in the tourist hub of Prague’s old town.

Reading about the pub’s stories, its literary connections and seeing the photos of Bill Clinton and his ilk tucking into schnitzel and beer sat among locals may generate a degree of excitement alone, but I will be up front with you about the good – and not so good – aspects of U Zlatého Tygra.

 Let’s begin with the good stuff first, of which there is plenty!

The pub signage with its bas-relief tiger and gold lettering is striking and one of Prague’s true icons. The sign indicates not only the business but also the historical identity of the building, which pre-dates its current use. The interior has hosted various previous operations such as a patriotic café and reading room before the second world war, and undergone rebrands such as U černého tygra (The Black Tiger), U kopáčů (The Dice), and U Kraftů (The Craft) in the past. Its literary leanings continued through the 20th Century, not least due to the patronage of writer Bohumil Hrabal, (now made permanent life President) who had a favourite area of the pub in which he would hold forth on the topics of the day, and just as often sit there quietly absorbing the atmosphere and consumed in his own thoughts. Hrabal passed away shortly before the turn of the century, but the pub keeps his memory alive in the best way possible, with tributes that are lovingly well-pitched but don’t turn the place into a shrine.

The entrance is based down an alleyway rather than on the street-front which I generally quite like as this increases a sense of cosiness and clandestine activity, vital for building the atmosphere in traditional venues like this. Heading inside, the design and layout is an archetypal Czech pub with communal tables, bench-seats installed along the walls, wooden panels, cream (going on yellow) walls and those curved arches so typical of the pivnice style. The stained glass windows (with tiger insignia) allow light in but effectively block out activity from the busy street, creating that cocoon-like feel that most of the best Czech pubs offer.

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Look around and note many framed photographs which present the three key themes of the pub – tigers (of course), famous patrons from sport, art and politics and, as could be predicted: Pilsner Urquell. This lager, while brewed by Plzeňský Prazdroj in Pilsen, not in Prague, is nevertheless synonymous with Prague and  Czechia due to its ubiquity. The Golden Tiger was only the second pub in the city of Prague to secure a contract to service it so there is a long-standing connection not likely to be severed or altered any time soon.

When you consider the old town mean average price for a half-litre of Pilsner Urquell, the prices here are fair-to-middling given the central location, and the first pint of it arrives without your say so (as does a second and a third unless you make a point of putting the mat over your drink). Beware, if you turn up thirsty you could easily find yourself processing several glasses in short order. This is one of those pubs where it’s virtually impossible to leave without at least two.

A slight quirk is an insistence on using 0.45l glasses meaning they gain 10% on each beer. Annoying and cynical, but not worth fussing over too much.

The place sells very little else to drink (see their menu here), and even has a policy of not serving spirits! Highly unusual as nearly every other pub in the country will offer you at least Slivovitz, Becherovka or Fernet Stock.

U Zlateho Tygra was for decades and up until the war a bit of an all-boy’s club, refusing women service and directing them to find the nearest cinema while the menfolk held forth in the pub. However, this culture was broken in fittingly macho fashion by a woman called Lady Helenka, as the tale goes:

“She came here with her fiance Vaclav Prymek, who was an officer and an army pilot. When Lady Helenka was stopped at the door, she promised to keep track. And when the waiter counted the lines on the bill, there were 44 of them. Lady Helenka managed 22 beers that evening, as did her future husband. The waiter laid a white napkin in front of Helenka on the floor, kneeled down and said: Madam, this seat by the counter will always be yours, even if the Egyptian king Faruk comes in.”

22 pints? Sounds crazy but you wouldn’t rule it out.

Now some bad stuff. A famous pub is, as you’d expect, a popular one, with the problem that it cannot accommodate locals and tourists at the same time without losing its appeal pretty quickly. Therefore they have struck some form of compromise.

You may or may not be aware that Czech pubs permit reservations even for the right to perch on a bar stool. This system, so unlike the first-come-first served approach in English pubs can result in disappointment. At U Zlatého Tygra you may as well forget even trying to turn up in the evening unless you have reserved your spot well in advance, though it may be worth enlisting a Czech friend to help secure that.

In the evenings, as there are reservations it feels almost like a private member’s club where you need to stay all evening to get full value for the exclusivity.

Here comes the compromise: there is a way in but it relies on your being prepared to begin drinking mid-afternoon, not always everyone’s favourite starting point. Turn up at 2.50pm, 10 minutes before opening time, join the queue (which at this point may be snaking around the front of the building), and if you’re in the front 30 or so you should be assured of a seat unless you’re in a large group. If you see people pushing in at the front then choose whatever retribution you see fit.

This may not be a concern of yours, but I feel a certain duty, given that I am waxing lyrical about the place, to point out that U Zlatého Tygra is not a museum, and the enduring appeal is because it is not spectacular but authentic and traditional. Even though there is some nice stained glass and a sturdy preserved atmosphere, it’s hardly La Sagrada Familia. Therefore, treat it as the pub it is meant to be – eat, drink and be merry. If you show the staff the respect you would show a host who invited you in, you will not be badly treated.

Inevitably, the authenticity can be occasionally vandalised by some tourists who believe it to be a fairground ride instead of a pub. Their behaviour is offset in amusingly curt fashion by the servers who adopt an uncompromisingly stony-faced approach to anyone who isn’t their mates and anything they regard as bullshit (quite a long list).

This is – depending on your point of view – chauvinistic, deeply cynical in order to maintain their asset, or their absolute right as publicans.

While this can be intimidating, consider it a pushback against the place being overrun with tourists and gentrified, as it surely would be without a little resistance.

While it is easy to have a pop at tourists, in one sense their custom helps keep the philosophy of the place alive –  people from all walks of life sitting around together and enjoying themselves. The pub website explains further through this anecdote:

“There is the story, in which the pre-war French Prime Minister Herriot visited U Zlatého Tygra. He was accompanied by the section chief of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, a permanent guest U Zlatého Tygra. They bought pork neck with bread and mustard and fitted incognito in the beer hall . While Herriot was drinking, showed to the opposite side and said : “There is sitting the chair of the Chamber of the Deputies of the Parliament Malypetr, but the gentleman sitting next to him I do not know . ” – The section chief said: ” There is sitting a master of painting from Melantriška. ” Herriot greeted again and then whispered : “But there is sitting the president of the Administrative Court , but the gentleman next to him I do not know. ” Also the guide did not know. Then their neighbour to the right said:” This is a manufacturer of funeral lamps from Karlovka. ” – Surprised Herriot turned to that neighbour and asked : ” And who are you ? “That gentleman raised up his glass and answered” I am a caretaker from Skořepka, please . ” – Then the Prime Minister declared : ” Gentlemen, fault! Democracy is not in France but here ! “

Once the crowds are seated, and after their first beers have been extinguished the atmosphere inside quickly gets going. Among them, comfortable and surrounded by the excitable friendly crowd, with dishes of hot food emerging from the kitchen, it really feels like the place to be.

Whilst seated you will note a stout tapster working flat out to replenish glasses, pausing the flow only to greet and converse with the stamgasty whose presence ensures this most Czech of pubs stays that way.

Due to the tourist trade it’s not somewhere I would choose to go every week – there are other places to go in Prague for an authentic traditional pub experience, without the hype and tourist hordes (Hostomicka Nalevarna, for example, which you can read about by following the link), but there’s no doubt the Golden Tiger has a certain sprinkling of magic borne from its history and ultimately its significance. Try it on different dates and times of day in order to work out when to absorb the most local flavour. As hackneyed as it is to say, you can’t really miss out on a pint in U Zlatého Tygra while in Prague. Which, as discussed above, means two.  This really is a pub to be reckoned with.

 

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U Kuděje, Olomouc

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Krapkova 236/20, Nová Ulice, 779 00 Olomouc, Czechia
  • Quality and/or choice of drinks – 10/10
  • Style and Décor – 8/10
  • Character, Atmosphere and/or Local Life – 10/10
  • Amenities, Events & Community – 7/10
  • Value for Money – 9/10
  • The Pub-Going Factor –  10/10

Evenings in Olomouc are a tough time to get seated. Wherever you turn, each hostinec, hospoda, pajzl, minipivovar or  výčep seems to be full. It is no exception when it comes to U Kuděje. Yet, frustrating though that is, there is all justification to persevere as you are searching for a drink in one of the best pubs in the city, if not in the whole country.

At first appearances Hospůdka U Kuděje may seem unremarkable. A Czech pub in a half-step basement of a very Czech city building? – seen plenty of those before. Wooden furniture from the Austria-Hungary era, with traditional ruralist décor? A well-trodden choice, too but the true quality of U Kuděje is the combination of a number of smaller things contributing to a greater whole, known as genius loci, or spirit of a place. Which we will now come to.

U Kuděje is not based slap bang in the centre (it could potentially lose a fraction of its charm if it were) but a short walk west on the fringes between Olomouc’s old town and a residential neighbourhood west of Čechovy sady.

U Kuděje is named after the writer Zdenek Kuděj, the closest and perhaps long-suffering friend of Jaroslav Hašek, who were both part of an anarchist/bohemian literary scene in the early 20th century, so is a fitting tribute to someone who spent huge amounts of time in pubs. You will find theirs and others’ works available to read (in Czech, of course) within the pub. Here is a short explanation of the pub and connection to the writer: http://www.memorialmatejekudeje.cz/?cat=14

Drop down a short set of stairs outside to the basement level and enter, where the bar area greets you immediately, with a list of beers attached above the bar. The place feels warm and bunker-like and you will almost certainly find people sat at stools around the bar, and a cast of regulars sat on tables to your right. To your left is a small lounge area with people deep in conversation and set into the ritual of the place itself.

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The pub has the atmosphere you’d expect from a neighbourhood dive and you’ll quickly notice from the interactions there are folk sat around who know each other well. This in my opinion is the core of the pub’s appeal, the warmth and simplicity of a social scene that people invariably seek out when given the choice.

A busy pub full of locals can be intimidating at first, and if you can’t see anywhere to sit you may be forced to hang at the bar (also awkward if there is no leaning room). Take a full look into the pub and if there is a spare seat ask “je tu volny”, and hopefully someone will yield. If you arrive as a group in the evening without a reservation, then all I can say is: Good luck. Yep, unfortunately Czechia does not do first-come-first served in pubs and will reserve tables for loyal locals at the expense of fly-by-night tourists and turf you out of your seat when the time comes.

U Kuděje’s big thing – atmosphere aside – is a focus on regional Czech beer, which is very good news for any fans of unfiltered and/or unpasteurised lagers (me). Offering 5 or so on tap at any one time, this is a sensible number that helps ensure freshness, and a little rotation for new and recurring brands. The beers are also served on porcelain plates built with recesses to collect spillage – this is very old fashioned but seems to be making a comeback of late.

They may try to suggest that these beers are good for your health but quite frankly, who cares? If it makes you feel better then yes, yeast can in theory help repopulate your stomach with good bacteria. However if you need it repopulating because of an excess of beer the previous night then that rather negates the point, doesn’t it? Prices are reasonable, perhaps on the high side for Olomouc, which isn’t a problem given Olomouc is an extremely affordable city.

The pub snacks at U Kuděje are typical for Czech pubs – expect the usual cheese, ham, pickles but keep a look out for Moravian cheese if that’s your thing, as that’s quite the regional speciality.

Lastly, take a look at the opening hours – few places open later on a Saturday than they do during the week, but U Kuděje is one of them This place is does a short 5 hours service on weekends, and opens at 3 during the week. This makes it doubly difficult to try and get into.

Although U Kuděje may be a tough nut to crack as an outsider, I personally couldn’t think of too many pubs on my travels I’d prefer to make the effort to ingratiate myself in. You’ll find the true atmosphere and camaraderie of a mixed crowd partaking in a time-honoured tradition, rate authenticity, not to mention enjoying some of the freshest, well-kept and well-poured lager available.

Have you been? Any comments or suggestions? We’d love to hear from you. Please get in touch, particularly if any of the above requires amending.

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Proletaryat, Poznań

back to Poland

Wrocławska 9, 61-838 Poznań, Poland
  • Quality and/or choice of drinks – 6/10
  • Style and Décor – 9/10
  • Character, Atmosphere and/or Local Life – 8/10
  • Amenities, Events & Community – 6/10
  • Value for Money – 9/10
  • The Pub-Going Factor –  8/10

Soviet-themed bars have quickly become a staple part of the Eastern European bar scene. It must be due to the tonnes of old communist bric-a-brac that has been purloined from flea markets over the years. It’s remarkable how quickly this ephemera has been regurgitated, often in an apolitical way. Now, shorn of the memory of state repression, paranoia and hardship much of the era’s junk has been re-purposed and exhibited, capturing people’s nostalgic fondness for the idealism, optimism as well as the iconography of the era. Ideal for adorning a moody Polish bar such as this one in Poznań.

Proletaryat isn’t exactly lined with volumes of Das Kapital; instead you’ll note a large bust of Lenin staring at you out on the street. Enter to find a display of fairly impressive social realist paintings, disproportionately large portraits of Lenin and Marx, hung in front of rich crimson paint, with emblems and military insignia thrown in. The central bar area also expands further into an interesting looking  terrace-style back room where the cool kids hang out, that seems a little separated from the central premise.

There may be a vague leftist feel to the crowd here (perhaps its just the students) but in the main it does seem to be led by decoration rather than a hotbed of any political grouping.

 

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That said, the decoration is impressive nonetheless, it’s a very stylish place to go for a drink, without being particularly pretentious. The crimson and lamplight works well for a shady atmospheric slow sup, while at night it gets more raucous and one of those truly buzzing city centre bars where the lack of space and abundance of booze creates its own head of steam. This is a great example of decoration that allows a venue to work well in different ways at different times.

The location down one of the main city centre streets means it feels in the middle of the action – which in Poznan is pretty bloody active. You can expect to witness the type of revelry usually preserved for English city centres on an evening. It was quite an eye-opener, but I had previously been warned about it by some Poznanites (Poznanians?) during a separate trip to Wroclaw (another excellent city). The levity  doesn’t emerge from English stag parties or boys-on-tour either – in Poznan it’s mainly locals doing their homespun thing. Wodka i piwo can be a dangerous combo.

Aside of the tongue-in-cheek atmosphere, Proletaryat offers its ‘own’ beer as well (from what I can gathered, this is brewed elsewhere at Browar Czarnków and labelled accordingly), which is cheap even by Polish standards nowadays. The jasne (light) and ciemne (dark) beers are both fresh and well balanced. Not the finest ever brewed but tasty certainly and designed to knock back in volume. Apparently the vodka is served with a pickle here if you are interested in going native.

Any pub crawl around Poznań would be improved by a stop off at Proletaryat, as despite the increasingly familiar concept of the Soviet-themed bar, a good concept doesn’t stop being good just on account of its familiarity. Besides, they do a decent job of and it feels like its own thing rather than a cookie-cutter version or a clone-bar. If you haven’t been to one of these type of places before, then go at least once for the novelty value. If you already have and enjoyed it, then this bar is not to be missed!

Here I am:

pro7

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