The exact address I am not sure about, it is one of the small side streets starting from "calle Assaonadors", very near "Calle Princesa". Just ask any "night-type" person you see walking around in that neighbourhood, and he or she will know. The club can only be recognized from the outside by its grey door on which you have to knock and then wait until they let you in. Read more »
A "Birra Bed" means Beer House in Amharic and there are plenty in Piazza, Addis. Just ask someone on the street and they will bring you there. The most birrabeds stay open till the last customer leaves or open up if the first arrives (just bang the door). Beer and local spirits are cheap and service always with a smile.
If everything is closed and you're a little desperate you can go to San Francisco at the famous Zeedijk (red light district).
It's a bar/dancing, the beers are too small and too expensive, the "broodje bal" is good, the atmosphere is often not very friendly, especially if you bring your girlfriend.
They close late, though.
I've been here a few times after going out in Tivoli. It's a place you can never remember going to and maybe it's better that way. It strangely crowded at 5 o'clock in the morning with all diehard drinkers....And that's all there is to it. They still have drinks even when the rest is closed.
A place packed with pimps, drunks, hookers and their clientelle. Located in a small red light district on the edge of the town center. Just a few meters down from the Benzinebar. Open daily till late!
To enter, one has to ring the doorbell and walk up to the first floor. It's not very sleazy, but it's open till late. Of course, the later you'll arrive, the more you feel at home. The clientele is a mixture of tourists and catalans, the drinks are relatively expensive, and there used to be a waitress with long legs, leather boots, a short skirt and a skimpy shirt, but I haven't seen her the last few times I was there.
But it's open untill quite late, or did I mention that already?
Not only is this bar the only true bar in town, it is also the home to a house band called "Beer In Cleavage," which play for special events including New Years and St. Patrick's Day _ (yes, there is some Irish heritage there, but Chester isn't South Boston).
Sue is the owner, and her son Heath often takes the helm.
Feel free to parttake in a game of pool on the one table or air hockey while listening to the classics on the jukebox including "Pour Some Sugar on Me," "Barricuda," and for the modern palatte, "Mama I'm Coming Home." Read more »
This one has regrettably been given a make over, but here's how it was:Variety, according to my dictionary, is a collection of unlike things. In its theatrical use, the word means entertainment - a series of short unrelated performances or acts. The Spice of Life public house in Cambridge Circus in the late 1980's was all of these, and more. Perhaps its location so close to Andrew Lloyd Webber's Palace Theatre had some significance. The performers in "The Spice" as it was known had no professional status. They were amateurs in the plainest sense of the word. Wide eyed, they were there against all odds, out of time, out of place and, to the casual observer, well out of order.
To the passing glance, The Spice was the sort of pub you would never go into for fear of catching something. Outside, its bilious green paint and shabby peeling walls, with grimy curtains hanging from their rails and front door that looked as if it had been kicked open and shut mercilessly for years were enough to deter the casual tourist. Read more »
Portland has a lot of bars that sell themselves as dives but a pitcher of PBR will cost you an arm and a leg.
At Bottomz Up you will pay at most $4 a pitcher and on select nights (Tues. and Thurs.) you pay $2.50. Any good sleazy bar needs some pool tables and Bottomz Up doesn't dissapoint with a few 3/4 sized tables.
There is no smoking in any bar in Maine any longer but you can be damn sure this place would thick with smoke if those dicks in power let us do our thing! The clincher for me is no white hat f*ckers dare show up and the place is owned and operated by a Vietnamese family that serves kick ass cheap noodles and other Vietnamese specialties.
Unfortunately they host karaoke night once a week and that just sucks balls (sometimes it's funny).
In the south of Hungary is a very small city called Szigetvar and somewhere there you'll maybe find the gypsy bar Magasles.
It is run by a very friendly lady called Eva and if you're lucky a very old gypsy will play the violin - like, all night long. And the nights are long in this place.
Be sure to know enough hungarian to order a beer (Sör), wine ("bor") or the locally brewed palinka (if you like a glass of glue) because it's the only language spoken there.
No dogs allowed (except mine).
Upon entering the FunHog Ranch, you become aware in a matter of seconds that the owners are from Iowa. This is a good thing. If only for the Pork Tenderloin Sandwich.
The FunHog sits between the Las Vegas Strip to the west, and the "Hood" directly to the east. Status means nothing once inside. You could be a boss on the strip, but you are just a "Hog" within those four walls. There is no black, white, brown, or yellow skin. There is no straight or gay. Just "Hog".
Business owners, Dr's, Lawyers, crack whores, street bums, secretaries, dancers, constuction, coaches, politico's. Just "Hog". Read more »
Sleazy, smoke-filled, mullet-infested den of white trash metalheads and home to the single worst jukebox on the planet. Only a few beers available, Coors, MGD, Budweiser, Sierra Nevada, Red Hook, the like, but an excellent attitude and selection when it comes to hard liquour. Fights are rarely broken up, the pool cues are replaced weekly, and the floor has had the same sawdust since '77. A great place to go and get piss-drunk after a hard day of socially responsible behaviour. Note that the ROundup has a maximum capacity of about 100 people.
An excellent all-around sleazepit, with a lovely anonymous atmosphere, comparatively cheap prices, and that 'I do believe that large trucker over there is eyeballing my ass' feeling that makes American bars what they are.
Somewhat curiously given it's name, the Oriental Bar has a Christmas feel with the year round kitsch colored lights strung above the many mirrors.
The bar ladies are hardly in a festive mood though, and will soon get down to business demanding drinks and then some. The toilet might have never been cleaned but let's face it, you shouldn't be going here for that.
Despite overdosing on sleaze you are likely to meet some genuinely friendly Ethiopian men. They will buy you drinks and get sloshed with you, a great time. When things do get slow head down the same road to John Bar or any of the other 50 bars in this capital of hospitable sleaze.