The Ernest Willows

2-12 City Road, Roath [map]


It'd been a long day of boozing by the time we staggered into The Ernest Willows.

Despite the fact that it looks as if it's been directly transposed from the gloom-laden concrete vista of Slough that constitutes the opening credits of The Office, at times there's just something reassuring about a Wetherspoon.

You do, after all, know exactly what you're going to get.


Gleaming pumps primed to dispense cut-price lager have never stood so tall and proud.


Ah yes, the trademark Wetherspoon ambience we all know and love.

It's like being stuck in the departure lounge of a provincial airport at 4am, only without the promise of a week in the sun at the end of it.


Oh. The Photographer appears to have fallen off his stool. But, pro that he is, he's carried on shooting regardless.

Fortunately, no one seems to have noticed.

Poets Corner

56 City Road, Roath [map]


The unremarkable nature of the exterior of this building (unless you count the brewery's inability to use an apostrophe) belies the towering alcohol funhouse that it accommodates.


One of the pub's 17 bars.

The range of beers covers the customary assortment of gaseous lagers (Foster's, Beck's, Heineken, Stella) and ridiculously named real ales (Flaming Chihuahua Testes).


Nice to see that bloke in the specs helpfully posing for this photo.


Plenty of corners in which to perch - including an inviting mezzanine level - while supping your pint and setting the world to rights.


But if a drink and a natter isn't enough to keep you entertained, then head upstairs, where you'll find arcade games, pool tables, even a pinball machine.

As vividly demonstrated by this bloke racing past the telly, there's so much going on that some punters become utterly overwhelmed by the cavalcade of multi-sensory stimuli and respond by running laps around the place like seven-year-olds pumped full of Ritalin.


Bit odd, this picture. One suspects that it's the result of The Photographer lying in an intoxicated heap on the floor at the time.

The 147 Bar

147 City Road, Roath [map]


The outside of this place really is making quite the statement.

If pressed, we'd be inclined to suggest that such a statement includes the phrase, "I ain't sayin' nothin' without my solicitor."


Inside, and the lagers are secured without incident. Note chair for those quieter moments and extensive range of nibbles littered throughout the bar area.

You won't go wanting for pig-flavoured corn-based snacks here.


The clientele is predominantly composed of the very old and the very young, notwithstanding the fact that The 147 Bar isn't really an obvious destination if you're responsible for looking after a two-year-old for the afternoon.

Despite the peculiarly ramshackle vibe, we like the fact that there's plenty of formal dining furniture, as if the chef might be about to drum up a Michelin-starred tasting menu at any moment.


The Photographer claims to have overheard people talking about him taking pictures which, he says, "Put me off a bit."

Honestly, if he only put as much effort into taking decent snapshots as he does into coming up with excuses…

The Roath Park

170 City Road, Roath [map]


Now here's a pub that's not messing about. A big, boxy, Victorian building that's brazenly named after a park it's nowhere near.


At first glance, the booze options appear to be entirely conventional. But then you notice all those undersized bottles of red wine that are so neatly lined up, the enormous flagon of orange squash, the Cointreau in pole position.

All of which suggests that The Roath Park is home to some truly avant-garde drinking habits.


It's fairly calm in the lounge bar as everyone wearily surveys Wales's latest Six Nations loss, while imbibing their ludicrous orange squash and Cointreau-based concoctions.


Venture through the loos and you'll emerge into this peculiar holding area.


Keep going and you'll end up in the public bar, replete with the landlord's friendly black Labrador (not pictured) and a phalanx of resolutely unfriendly locals, who immediately suggest that we scurry back round to the other side of the pub.

To be fair, they were probably all off their heads on miniature bottles of red wine at the time.

Milgi

213 City Road, Roath [map]


Don't be put off by the restaurant-esque stylings of the exterior: booze is readily available inside. We checked. At some length.

As the awning handily indicates, Milgi is actually Welsh for "Kitchen, lounge, gallery".


No beer on tap, sadly, but they've got more spirits than you can shake a gastric irrigation tube at.


On a lager tip, there's the ever-reliable Red Stripe or, weighing in at a mighty 5.9% volume, Desperados - which cunningly amalgamates beer with tequila.

It's like they've bottled a student drinking game.


The decor is all vintage chic, battered sofas, knick-knacks and bunting (something of a recurring Pint of 45 theme). We suspect that a woman may have been responsible.


Head out to the beer garden and you're confronted by an enormous, disco ball-equipped yurt - quite possibly the only one on City Road.

To be honest, it's a lot to cope with after you've been at the Desperados all afternoon.