During the weekday there isn’t a lot of after hours action in this town, but BarChick didn’t want to go to bed when she was told to. After being kicked out at last orders, a barman told us this place would still have us, amen. So after getting a little lost in the Red Light District, we rocked up here and fitted right in. This is where the young and wasted congregate away from the rest of the working world any night of the week.

Beyond the narrow bar, it opens out into what looks like a student living room with a house party always in full swing. The comfy sofas, flowered wallpaper and vintage trunks are all pretty standard, but after that it goes a bit left. There are gold legless busts, ghetto blasters and rows of lockers for who knows what to be kept in. The polaroids behind the bar testify these are fun-time folk, that is, if the messy wide-eyed lot around you hadn’t already made it pretty obvious.

It’s pretty smoky in here, you’ll find yourself going outside to take gulps of fresh air between chatting nonsense to smashed strangers. The atmosphere is charged, and you could totally take home half the party without trying too hard. There are beats playing, a giant disco ball spinning and if one of the vintage phones happens to ring, we suggest picking it up.