Pint of 45

Blackweir Tavern

2011-12-20T16:24:00.012Z

35 North Road, Maindy [map]

Blackweir Tavern looks not so much like a pub as an entire housing estate. We haven't seen this much red brick since the last episode of Brookside.

As you can see from that blackboard on the left, there's plenty going on. We're particularly taken with the idea of the Curry Pit on Thursdays for £5.95 - we imagine it's much like a children's ball pool, just with added spices. A balti pool, if you will.

Unfortunately, closer inspection of the sign reveals that it actually reads Curry + Pint.

There's a reassuring familiarity about the bar area - until we spot an inverted cross on the flag draped across the ceiling. Odd, we think.

It does everything, this place: food, fruit machines…

… pool (no winner stays on, mind)…

… televised sports…

… board games…

… decking…

… even a Wii tournament (albeit on a hitherto unannounced date).

But despite the abundance of possible distractions, our minds keep wandering back to that inverted cross.

We ask around and discover that the hostelry is, in fact, a front for the south Wales headquarters of the Church of Satan. You don't want to know what they get up to in the beer cellar on Friday nights.

Ahem. We are, of course, joking. It's actually Thursday nights - just after the curry.

Cwtch Mawr

2011-11-08T22:52:00.006Z

10 Cathedral Road, Pontcanna [map]

Cwtch Mawr (Welsh for the nauseatingly twee 'big cuddle') is part of boutique hotel Jolyon's. Posh, innit?

For some reason, The Photographer is particularly thrilled by the prospect of a pint of McEwan's.

It's not much of a drink, to be honest, but it did inspire this memorable 1980s TV advert. So that's good.

Shit me, look at the size of that jar of olives. It's as if we've had an alcoholic blackout and ended up in Wally's Deli by mistake.

Actually, this is a bit like sitting in the drawing room of some grand country house. Albeit one that happens to have three different types of lager on tap.

A doorway with the words The Writing Room above it leads into this idiosyncratic little corner, home to the ugliest seats in Pontcanna.

Head down those steps on the left and you'll wend your way to the hotel reception.

Any temporary accommodation in which you're obliged to go through a bar in order to reach your room is all right by us.

Chapter

2011-10-30T12:07:00.009Z

Market Road, Canton [map]

We're at arts centre Chapter for the end-of-term prize-giving extravaganza that is the Wales Blog Awards.

Turns out we don't walk away with a gong (well, a sheet of paper in a clip frame) but we do guzzle about three bottles of complimentary Prosecco sparkling wine on the way out - so, on balance, it's still a pretty successful evening.

But before we're called into the assembly hall upstairs, we head into the large bar/canteen. It's busy for a school night but we're served sharpish.

Bar staff in action. Note large bucket, which is presumably there for the benefit of punters who overdo it on the sparkling wine front.

It's too brightly lit for our tastes but that does mean you can get a good look at the Elizabeth McDonald paintings. And we're all for a bit of art with our Amstel.

Various exotic beverages are also available at this pop-up beer festival bar. Although given that everything is priced at an astonishing £4.50 a pint, we decide against further investigation.

The view from our table. There are as many people having their tea as there are drinking booze, so it's not really somewhere to get especially inebriated.

Yet more seating round the corner.

Turns out that if you want to tip one of those tables on its side and roll it down the entire length of the room while chanting absurdist slogans, everyone just assumes it's a piece of performance art and lets you get on with it.

Chiquito

2011-10-22T10:18:00.002+01:00

Old Brewery Quarter, Cardiff [map]

Chiquito - the only Mexican restaurant in Cardiff named after an Abba song.

It's in that funny downstairs bit in the Old Brewery Quarter and, handily, has a separate entrance (on the right) that leads straight into the bar area.

And here it is. Small but perfectly formed. But there's nothing particularly Mexican going on, aside from the fact that the word 'Margaritas' is daubed on the mirror.

It's largely been garnished with Generic Bar Fittings, just with a focus on earthy tones and the odd stripy blanket.

A selection of pots and some sort of illuminated stick arrangement. Illuminated sticks are very on-trend this season, we hear.

For those of you who don't speak Spanish, this translates as 'Caballeros'.

The most hilariously useless seating layout we've ever seen. In order to sit in either of the two chairs against the wall, presumably you have to hurdle over the table in front of them.

Easier said than done when you're carrying two pints of lager, a fistful of luminous vodka shots and a packet of dry roasted peanuts.

O'Neill's

2011-10-03T13:31:00.000+01:00

85-87 St Mary Street, Cardiff [map]

Oh, O'Neill's (or, as their URL suggests, One Ills). It's never really a prospect that fills your heart with joy.

But whichever branch you visit (Cardiff or otherwise), you always know what you're going to get - essentially a hostelry from Dublin's Temple Bar fed through a chain pub-shaped filter.

Following the kind of high-level negotiations that would give Kofi Annan a tension headache, we secure ourselves two pints of particularly gaseous lager.

This is possibly Cardiff's brownest pub.

That aside, the place is rocking a 2:1 ratio of tomato sauce bottles to tables. (The sort of grassroots statistic that the ONS tends to overlook, for some reason.)

De rigueur Guinness-related ephemera.

View from the upper level. Which is much the same as the lower level, except about 18 inches higher up.

Craic addicts getting their fix.

We're all for a good pub booth but this is ridiculous - a seating arrangement that's so self-assured it's decided it's capable of accommodating about 12 people at once.

Which is not so much a pub booth as a Travelodge booking gone horribly wrong.

Bogiez

2011-09-18T12:32:00.001+01:00

Kingsway, Cardiff [map]

What used to be basement indie dive (and Pint of 45 favourite) Cardiff Barfly reopened in February as the none-more-rock Bogiez.

It sounds like the sort of place you'd see in the gig listings of a 1987 issue of Kerrang! magazine. Which, naturally, makes it instantly appealing.

Turns out that tottering down a spiral staircase while clad in snakeskin cowboy boots isn't as easy as it looks.

Pretty decent selection of grog at the bar, including 75 per cent of south Wales' entire stock of Jägermeister.

We've popped in for a quick drink on the way to a gig at the university.

As such, given that it's about seven o'clock on a Monday evening, the rockocalypse we were hoping for hasn't really kicked off yet.

On the upside, the toilets are in a much better state than they used to be.

Don't ever play The Photographer at pool: his cueing is terrifyingly random. You'll definitely win but you may lose an eye in the process.

Gwwwaaarggghheeeuurrghh! (Etc.)

Henry's

2011-09-11T22:49:00.001+01:00

Park Chambers, Park Place, Cardiff [map]

Tucked away just off Queen Street, Henry's is one of those places we always seem to walk past but hardly ever go in.

Which is slightly surprisingly given that its generous menu of various grades of cooking lager includes Carling, Stella, Heineken and Grolsch.

It's also pretty big on wine. We're best kept away from the wine though - turns out that if you down it at the same rate we usually consume lager, bad things happen.

The airy, colonial-style interior is elegantly done.

Not sure about those high tables though. As Will Self puts it, they are "an import from US sports bars that have no real function unless there's a screen somewhere in the mid-distance showing NFL playoffs." (There isn't.)

Don't know what's going on here but it looks as if it's not so much a big night out as a board meeting.

We're pretty sure the woman with her back to us is taking minutes.

Over in the other direction are two blokes at the bar engaged in a Very Serious Conversation.

No one here seems to be having much fun.

The Photographer suggests we liven things up by one of us vaulting off that table and performing a flying neckbreaker on the statue facing the door ("Don't worry, that huge plant next to it will cushion your landing," he says).

As it is, we quietly finish our pints and head off without incident, while discussing last night's episode of Come Dine With Me.

Pear Tree

2011-09-05T09:51:00.004+01:00

The Globe Centre, Wellfield Road, Roath [map]

It's difficult to tell if Pear Tree (the lack of definite article just sounds wrong, doesn't it?) is sinking into the ground or whether this is just a slightly wonky photo. Although you can probably work it out.

Either way, who ever knew there were quite so many different shades of beige?

A bit of history for you: this used to be a Bar Billabong and, long before that, a cinema - The Photographer saw Return of the Jedi here.

Lots of admin going on at the bar. This bloke is on the phone and he's got a pen tucked behind his ear. He couldn't look any busier if he tried.

Well, actually, he could try serving us as well. That would be good.

Hilariously, we opt some sort of cherry beer concoction by the name of Liefmans. Less hilariously, it weighs in at a staggering £4.50 a pint.

Come the next round we're back on the session lager.

From this vantage point, the bar area almost looks like a shot from some sort of Cardiff Tourist Information brochure, in which everyone has perpetually fixed grins and is enjoying alcohol in a responsible fashion and definitely won't get really pissed, fall into a bush and then throw up on the way home.

Imagine going to a bar and either (1) wanting to play a board game or (2) being impressed by a very old sewing machine.

Seriously, is this a drinking hole or a playgroup for precocious four-year-olds?

We amble upstairs, where it's all very tasteful. Although you cannot help but feel that the whole thing is a slightly less successful take on Juno Lounge down the road.

We are able to confirm that this lamp is definitely working. So that's great news.

Oooh, arty.

Kiwis

2011-07-17T19:34:00.009+01:00

21-23 Wyndham Arcade, Cardiff [map]

Of all the enclosed shopping spaces in Cardiff, Wyndham Arcade is surely the most peculiar.

This Edwardian corridor between St Mary Street and Mill Lane accommodates a Christian bookshop, an army surplus outlet, a tobacconists, an inline skating store and - what we're really interested in here - an extraordinary little inner-city boozer called Kiwis.

Despite having a decidedly ramshackle-looking facade - their idea of an embellishment is taping an A4 print-out of the bar's name over the door - inside it has all the trappings of a regular pub, alcopops and all.

Although how many bottles of WKD they ever shift remains to be seen.

It's a weekday afternoon (this is the same day we visit Walkabout) but there's a steady flow of customers.

Your instinct is to think that Kiwis isn't the most salubrious of joints - after all, the one concession to exoticism is a string of Jägermeister bunting along the top of the bar.

But you wouldn't catch someone wearing a sports coat to visit a branch of O'Neill's, would you?

Plenty of nattering and drinking going on, plus more suit-jacket action. We're warming to the place already.

We take a pew at a low table through an archway, from where we're afforded this view.

Difficult to tell whether that bloke at the opposite end of the bar is in the process of getting up or falling down. Perhaps it's both.

Tantalisingly, just to the right of where we're sitting is this locked gated door.

On the other side, it's just an extension of the main bar area but apparently it's transformed into a late-night club at weekends. Verily, the mind boggles.

Walkabout

2011-07-08T11:42:00.010+01:00

65-74 St Mary Street, Cardiff [map]

We've resisted (if that's the word) going here for ages. It just looks awful, doesn't it? But we're strolling past, we realise we have a pint-sized window to fill, we brace ourselves, we go in.

Being the middle of a weekday afternoon, it's almost entirely deserted.

Come here on a Saturday evening and you'll have a somewhat different experience, given that it'll be packed full of the sort of people who go out for the night without even putting a proper coat on.

That said, even at this time of day, the bloke you can just see on the far left is offering to buy us a Jägerbomb. We're all for getting the party started but doing so at 2pm on a Tuesday doesn't seem quite right.

Another shot of the headache-inducing main bar. Above one of the fridges is the slogan "Sip it or rip it!" We have absolutely no idea what this means.

The voluminous downstairs area consists of an enormous bear pit, with a second bar that runs along its entire length, above which is a near cinema-size big screen. Which currently appears to be displaying some form of 1960s psychedelic animation.

If you like pubs to offer a bit of charm and character, this isn't really the place for you.

The Crofts

2011-06-24T16:05:00.012+01:00

Croft Street, Roath [map]

That's a good solid building right there.

Well, apart from the fact that it had to be rebuilt after it was bombed during the second world war. But, aside from that, it really is very solid.

Not a huge selection of beers but, on the bright side, they do have an extensive array of crisps and nuts, along with a full complement of fire extinguishers. Which is always reassuring.

It's looking a bit tired at the moment - even Alex Ferguson appears to be knackered.

But it's in the process of being refurbished, so we're expecting the addition of some much-needed snazz in the coming months.

It's difficult to know what to make of this photo.

There's a dog sitting in a plastic delivery tray, a parrot's cage blocking the door, a couple of sofas half-heartedly swathed in maroon throws, some wholly incongruous party decorations, and a blackboard that reads, "Political correctness prohibited in this place. Twat."

All very confusing.

The Photographer's uncle Joe Mitchell, a one-time regular, has a plaque over the bar. It's what we all aspire to, isn't it?

It's a deceptively sizeable place: round the back is this lounge bar, a skittle alley and a beer garden.

Although the beer garden more closely resembles a timber yard at the moment.

On the way out, we learn that the parrot - which is called Crofty - can say only two words: "Fuck off."

The Claude

2011-06-18T11:50:00.007+01:00

140 Albany Road, Roath [map]

Now this is an enormo-plex of a watering hole if ever there was one.

Yet another place that has TVs behind the bar. Is that a thing now?

Note also Welsh flags hanging from ceiling (presumably in case you guzzle so much ale that you forget which country you're in) and charity collection box next to till for the National Institute for the Care of Alcoholic Dogs (Roath branch).

A baffling array of seating options - you can't really see it here but the tables actually stretch off into the distance for another half-mile or so.

Indeed, when your decision-making faculties are already impaired by the fact of being in the grip of serious session of daytime boozing, it's simply too much choice.

Panicking, we escape through a side door and are thrust into this curious outside area, which houses what looks like a particularly sumptuous cattle shed.

It's never-ending this place. We eventually saunter back indoors and, after yomping for a further 20 minutes, come across this pantheon of pool tables.

We'd have a game but, frankly, we're too knackered after all that walking.

Sam's Bar

2011-06-12T11:28:00.007+01:00

63 St Mary Street, Cardiff [map]

What was for ages the ludicrously monikered Zync is now back to its old name of Sam's Bar. Although you've probably gathered that already from the huge banner proclaiming as much.

This photo makes it look as if sitting outside here has all the allure of going for a pint in a Lidl car park.

On the upside, having a beer on its sizeable terrace affords the opportunity to take in the splendour of the Cafe Quarter without having to waste precious drinking time by actually ordering any food.

It's not much to look at inside but it does the job. They have plenty of lagers on tap, so that's enough to keep us happy.

Of course, with it being a sunny day, everyone's sitting outside. Leaving the place looking like some sort of abandoned industrial unit, just with added fruit machine.

A rather peculiarly angled shot of some table football action. Remember lads: no spinning.

Its rock credentials - speakers pumping out AC/DC, grim reaper motif - are somewhat at odds with the tasteful brown and beige seating. It's like the Next homeware department going on a day trip to the Download festival.

The Central Bar

2011-06-03T11:46:00.010+01:00

39 Windsor Place, Cardiff [map]

Of the 17 Wetherspoons in Cardiff, this is one of the more inviting branches - not least because it's possible to eschew the front door entirely and dive straight in through one of the open windows, Dukes of Hazzard stylee.

Although after what happened to The Photographer last time he made such an entrance, our advice is not to try it if you've just downed three Jägerbombs on an empty stomach.

Quite how they expect anyone to order a pint of something called Elderwych - it's even got a picture of some sort of tree-witch on the badge - and hope to retain a sense of dignity remains a mystery.

That said, if you've just come crashing through the window in a misguided bid to replicate a scene from an early '80s American TV series, then retaining a sense of dignity is probably fairly low on your list of priorities.

A rabble of spirits, overlooked by a dragon made out of rusty bits of metal.

This, of course, could be an interior shot of any Wetherspoon, ever. Which is what makes it so appealing and, equally, so dismal.

We're just off for a little cry.

More of the same upstairs.

No shortage of reading material in the loos.

Between the menu of premium lagers, roast-of-the-day details and a machine that dispenses fake Viagra pills, they've got the key interests of their male clientele pretty much covered.

Worst Beer Garden Ever.

Juno Lounge

2011-05-10T21:11:00.008+01:00

14 Wellfield Road, Roath [map]

Whatever word you stick before bar - cafe, sports or, heaven forbid, wine - it always makes it sound less appealing. Especially if, as we perpetually are, you're just after a pint.

But there's always an exception to a rule and, in Juno Lounge, we may well have found it.

For starters, they serve the very pleasant Catalan pilsner Estrella.

Although this does lead us on to a lengthy conversation about the chances of getting mugged while wandering, pissed, along La Rambla in Barcelona (high), and the best course of action should this unfortunate occurrence take place (ensure that you're accompanied by a large professional wrestler who is perfectly happy to punch the assailant upside the head on your behalf).

Bar staff in action.

It's been a while since we've stumbled upon some decent light fittings in a Cardiff drinkery but Juno Lounge more than compensates with its preposterous chandelier/brown tasselled lampshade hybrids.

You don't get those in Ikea.

The downstairs bit. Imagine if that blackboard accidentally fell off the wall and hit someone on the head. It'd definitely kill them.

Something to bear in mind next time you're here and wondering where to sit.

Similar stuff going on upstairs, just with added staring bloke.

There's something a bit discombobulating about a wall full of mismatched mirrors (especially if you've just consumed eight pints of lager).

The roof terrace is made only slightly less appealing by the fact that it attracts the type of bloke (far left) who thinks it's OK to go out in public clad in a white vest and a trilby.

La Brasserie

2011-04-29T22:35:00.008+01:00

6 Mill Lane, Cardiff [map]

Pleasant as La Brasserie is (which, as we understand it, is French for The Brasserie), we've always found cafe-bars to be slightly problematic.

There's the sense that you can't just go completely Bacchic without first requesting a helping of croque-monsieur.

Nonetheless, we manage to successfully negotiate the pint-ordering process without being sidetracked by cheese on toast.

You've got to love that use of parentheses and its clarification of the fact that £2.50 will procure you only a single can of Foster's, and not the entire, elegantly arranged display of room-temperature lager.

It's indoors but, with those paving stones and street lamps, feels kind of outdoors too. Even if you haven't been drinking, it's a confusing state of affairs.

Still, there's always something to be said for anywhere that has no queue at the bar.

Right, so we're properly outside now (we think). One can only assume that The Photographer is going for an arty shot of those two pints of Beck's-and-lime (our summer drink of choice).

Unfortunately, what's actually happened is that he's taken a fairly graphic photo of a bloke whose shirt and trousers are clearly that little bit too tight for him.

This, it would seem, is the long-term effect of being obliged to order croque-monsieurs every time you buy a drink.

The Albany

2011-04-19T10:50:00.010+01:00

105 Donald Street, Roath [map]

Now that's what a pub should look like, isn't it?

We could live without the lava lamp but, otherwise, this has everything you want from a bar: a selection of cold lagers, some freshly polished brass (er, that sounds odder than it's meant to), a few bags of peanuts, and an emetic line-up of garishly coloured concoctions on the top shelf.

"Buy 9 pints get 1 free," reads the sign. In the circumstances, it seems like the sensible thing to do.

Admittedly, buying one-and-a-quarter gallons of beer at a time is rather excessive. But, hey, we're thirsty.

The place is decorated in pretty much every shade of brown you'd expect to find in a Pantone colour chart. As, indeed, all proper boozers should be.

Through a corridor to the lounge, where there's some serious telly watching going on.

You've rarely seen a group of blokes so rapt in the EastEnders omnibus.

Amazingly, The Albany's beer garden does actually constitute being referred to as a garden. You can't beat a nice bit of foliage with your pint.

In contrast, the smokers' area is somewhat less inviting.

We definitely didn't spend our time here sitting in front of this sign without even realising it, and anyone who says we did is lying.

The Beverley

2011-04-12T19:53:00.009+01:00

75-77 Cathedral Road, Pontcanna [map]

"Bar, dining & hotel," promises the signage above the door. If that's not a good day out, we don't know what is.

Although whether two meals for a fiver quite constitutes "dining" remains to be seen.

But we're not really interested in eating. Not when there's beer to be drunk.

Quite why anywhere would bother stocking both Carlsberg and Carling remains a mystery. Many years of intensive research has taught us that there's only so much cooking lager you can drink.

As you can tell by the discombobulating slant, the bar area once doubled up as a baddies' lair in a 1960s Batman episode.

Despite - or perhaps because of - the angle, the service is remarkably swift. So swift, in fact, that it's actually resulted in motion blur.

There's something reassuring about seeing a fruit machine in a pub, even if you never play it. The way it speaks of a sense of optimism in the face of the bleakest of odds borders on the poetic.

More pragmatically, it's also a nice little earner for the landlord.

The Old Library

2011-03-12T10:52:00.007Z

18-19 Trinity Street, Cardiff [map]

It's a weird island of alcohol this, wedged in the strait between the back of the market and the old bit of St David's.

It promises food, drink and music - all of which it delivers, albeit with varying degrees of success.

The 'drink' bit it accomplishes effectively enough. The bar staff are somewhat uninterested but there are enough of them that service is generally pretty swift.

And they even do old-school five per cent Stella, if you fancy going particularly mental.

Opposite the long, snaking bar is a raised seating area, which turns into a dancefloor as the evening progresses (it's open until an astonishing 4am on Fridays and Saturdays).

We've been to the indie disco on Friday nights a couple of times and bopped about like drunken idiots to Blondie and the Stones - an activity for which there is much to be said.

Oooo, disco stairs. Our favourite sort.

Don't, whatever you do, allow yourself to be tempted by anything on the menus though - The Old Library has just been named as one of 11 Cardiff establishments to have scored zero in new food hygiene ratings compiled by the Food Standards Agency.

According to the Echo, this indicates, "Habitual bad practice that could potentially lead to contamination."

Take our advice and stick to the booze and bad dancing.

Golden Cross

2011-03-04T15:57:00.006Z

282 Hayes Bridge Road, Cardiff [map]

The Golden Cross - a proper bit of old Cardiff and one of Wales's most popular gay pubs - is just round the corner from the swish new cathedral of consumerism that is St David's 2. But it might as well be in another world.

For starters, when did you last see net curtains like that?

There's an impressive selection - some would say an overload - of lagers. Does anywhere really need to provide both Foster's and Carling?

Dedicated lager drinkers that we are, even we can't tell the difference between the two.

The intricately detailed ceramic bar dates from the 19th century.

We're more interested in the blackboard on the right though, which states that, every day, happy hour starts at 11am.

We'll say that again: 11am!

This slightly odd red room through the back is like something out of Twin Peaks.

(Midget just out of shot.)

The place hosts regular karaoke and cabaret nights. Although, to be honest, that's less of a stage, more of a large upturned box.

Ha Ha Bar & Grill

2011-02-25T00:10:00.000Z

The Friary, Cardiff [map]

Hmmm. A bar cunningly disguised as a multi-storey car park. Not a tactic we would have necessarily employed ourselves, but there you go.

We don't quite understand why they stock bottles of Peroni and Stella given that they already have them on tap.

And another thing: what's the point in having a bottle of beer at all if you can't stick a wedge of lime in it? (A word of advice - don't ever stick a wedge of lime in a bottle of Stella.)

This is one of those places that thinks it's a lot hipper than it actually is. Come on - exposed brickwork? How 20th century is that?

As the '& Grill' element of the name suggests, it's a set-up that caters as much for dining as it does for drinking.

Indeed, if you're looking to achieve maximal refreshment (as we inevitably are), this probably isn't the place for you.

If, on the other hand, you're in the market for a farm-assured chicken breast, topped with melted mozzarella and crispy serrano ham, drizzled with extra-virgin olive oil and rocket pesto, served on seasonal potatoes and green beans, in a rich cherry tomato sauce, then you've made a wise choice.

Rich cherry tomato sauce or otherwise, there's something peculiar going on in the toilets. There's no soap to speak of, yet there's an abundant supply of hand & body lotion.

It's the sort of hygiene-to-moisturising ratio that, frankly, alarms us.

Since our visit, Mitchells & Butlers have shut Ha Ha - it's currently being refurbished and is due to re-open as Browns Bar & Brasserie in late March. Let's hope they use it as an opportunity to sort out the soap situation in the men's loos, if nothing else.

Robin Hood

2011-02-16T01:01:00.009Z

16 Severn Grove, Pontcanna [map]

The air outside the Robin Hood is thick with testosterone today. It's an aroma that's not a million miles removed from that of Lynx Alpha.

Having inhaled all that Lynx, we're a bit light-headed by the time we shuffle inside.

Fortunately there's some form of emergency lighting device on the bar to lead us in the right direction.

Oooh, and they've got crisps too. All the crisps.

This is, of course, the pub that was once run by Charlotte Church's parents. But the celebrity links don't end there.

They've got signed photos on the walls of everyone from Wales's drunkest man Rhys Ifans to Terry Jones, in the guise of Monty Python's Mr Creosote.

The plaque even reads, "Terry Jones. Monty Python. Mr Creosote." Just in case you thought that's what he usually looks like.

But, more excitingly, tonight they're holding a wake for someone who's not actually dead yet, as they wanted to attend their own funeral.

Idiot.

For those of us still in the land of the living, there's a good-sized outside area round the back, too.

Although between that barbecue hardwired into an enormous gas cylinder and the TV set with a mains connection that looks as if it's been strung together by Dodgy Dave himself, we wouldn't be entirely surprised if there are a few more wakes here in the very near future.

Floyd's Bar

2011-02-04T15:28:00.006Z

23 High Street, Cardiff [map]

It's easy to miss this one, perched as it is unobtrusively above Floyd Clothing.

There's always an added sense of anticipation heading into a bar for the first time that's at the end of a flight of stairs.

It could be amazing. It could be shit. No way of knowing without giving it a go.

Up the stairs we trundle.

Nothing on tap - this is a bottles-only affair. Plenty of choice though, from Grolsch and Peroni to a selection of your more outré (not to mention pricey) spirits.

The barkeep is having a bad night, though. Someone asks for (if we remember correctly) a White Russian.

It takes at least three goes - you can see the parade of failed attempts on the middle shelf.

We decide to go all experimental (by our standards) and opt for Crabbie's Alcoholic Ginger Beer.

It is served with neither glass nor ice, something of a requisite for this sort of fare. Such is the kind of mishap you invite when you stray from the lager.

Ah, right. The Photographer, camera botherer extraordinaire that he is, appears to have taken a barely-lit shot of an empty table and four chairs.

Can't really think of anything amusing to say about this. Sorry.

Y Mochyn Du

2011-01-21T13:44:00.007Z

Sophia Close, Pontcanna [map]

A funny looking pub, this. It's as if it was designed by the Brothers Grimm while taking a quick break from composing fairy tales about cannibalistic witches.

Plenty of choice at the bar, with a particular focus on wine, quality lagers such as Grolsch and Amstel, and (whisper it) various types of coffee.

What sort of sick pervert goes to the pub only to then order a cup of coffee?

There's a particularly hilarious game of Angry Birds going on at the bar, by all accounts.

It's cavernous rather than cosy but this does at least mean there's always somewhere to sit.

Note also ready supply of HP Sauce and other condiments at the end of the bar. Anywhere that eschews those hopeless little sachets of ketchup in favour of squeezy bottles is all right by us.

There's both a conservatory and a large decked area outside so, weather permitting, you've got an embarrassment of seating options.

Trees shooting up through the middle of decking always slightly disturbs us though. Like drinking coffee in pubs, it's just not right.

Kings Cross

2011-01-07T12:59:00.008Z

25 Caroline Street, Cardiff [map]

No wonder there's uproar at Mitchells & Butlers' proposal to transform the Kings Cross into a fancy eatery.

Not only is it Cardiff's best-known gay bar, it also offers a steak and a pint for £5.99 on Wednesdays. Such recession-busting prices surely won't survive a gastropub relaunch.

The amiable bar staff are purveyors of both your standard cooking lagers (you can't go wrong with a reassuringly gaseous pint of Foster's, after all) and a smattering of more esoteric fare.

Although a session built around the consumption of something called Doom Bar is surely destined to all go a bit Oliver Reed.

Echo columnist Dan O'Neill reckons that "the survival of the Kings Cross as a gay pub is infinitely more important than the survival of the much over-hyped Vulcan."

We're inclined to agree with him.

Despite its odd shape - the building, which dates from 1872, is sandwiched between the twin lanes Mill and Chippy - Kings Cross still manages to feel fairly cosy.

It's like a lagery oasis of camp in an otherwise arid wasteland of scoffing, shouting, scrapping and, erm, sicking.

And it's got free Wi-Fi.