Temple Bar

6 High Street, Cardiff [map]

I know what you're thinking: "That's not Cardiff, you fools. It's clearly a pub in Dublin. You've finally had one fizzy lager too many and lost the plot."

But that, my friends, is where you'd be wrong.

For Temple Bar is, in fact, a replica of a tavern in the Irish capital that dates from 1840, transposed to the High Street in Cardiff. For, as far as we can ascertain, absolutely no reason whatsoever. 

There's a curious double entrance scenario on the go, with the main door preceded by this area populated by high stools and barrel tables – a kind of amuse-bouche before the pub proper, if you will.

The Photographer is so overwhelmed by the unusual frontage that he actually falls to the floor at this point in a swoon. Yet he still manages to capture this snapshot on his way down. What a pro.

About 20 minutes later – The Photographer by now suitably recovered – we cautiously make our way to the bar. Only to be confronted by this spectacle. What sort of person heads to the pub clad in shorts and a Union Jack anorak, accessorised by a small dog?

We quickly solicit our bargainous pints (£3 for a Foster's!) and venture further into the pub.

"What's the craic?" is the inevitable question being posed on the far wall. However, the punters here seem to have eschewed the craic entirely in favour of fiddling about on their mobile phones.

 
This is more like it. Pints. Bants. Not a phone in sight. Good work, lads!

Brew Monster

31–32 High Street, Cardiff [map]

You join us en route to a pre-coronavirus concert by the popular beat combo Napalm Death, which The Photographer – suitably boozed-up by that stage of the evening – subsequently strays into without a ticket.

But we're getting ahead of ourselves here. The first order of business is, of course, the pre-gig livener. To the bar!

This is one of the slew of booze joints that seemingly sprung up overnight down this end of the High Street.

Whereas most seem to focus on cocktails, gin and sundry libations of that nature, Brew Monster is very much about delicious pints.

It's tastefully done (and the staff are super friendly) but there's something about all that blond wood, the rows of industrial-chic lighting turned up to 11 and the large shopfront windows that lend it all the ambience of the Barry branch of Poundstretcher.

Blimey, this place is full of chaps, isn't it?

 
Our arrival coincides with the start of the weekly quiz. Absolutely no points whatsoever to the teams who selected the names Quizzy Rascal and Quiz on My Face.

Floyd's Bar

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.

The Goat Major

33 High Street, Cardiff [map]


Just look at that. It's the city centre boozer of your dreams, isn't it? And what a name. The Goat Major.

It's the title given to the soldier who's responsible for looking after the Royal Regiment of Wales's mascot - which is, it almost goes without saying, a goat called Taffy. So there's a lot of exciting stuff going on here before you even step inside.


Once you do, you're met with a striking bar gleaming with brass fittings, plenty of dark wood panelling and, somewhat incongruously, a plasma telly in the corner.

More excitingly, there are some really comfy (if slightly knackered) armchairs by the window. Unfortunately, you can't see them here as we were sitting in them while taking the photo.

If you're after a quiet pint while flicking through the Echo, then this is the place: a haven for the discerning afternoon drinker.