Heidi's Bier Bar

4–6 Mill Lane, Cardiff [map]

Whoever proposed the idea for this place must surely have been drunk at the time: a faux après-ski lodge serving four-litre beer towers, in which the poor bar staff are dressed in pigtails and Tyrolean dresses (and that's just the men), named after a 19th-century Swiss children's book.

 

Still, if you are going to come up with an insane theme for a bar while massively pissed, they've certainly seen the idea through to its illogical conclusion.

 

The seating is made up of lots of little booths, although it's not immediately clear where you're meant to leave your skis.

 

Ah, there's the answer to that then.

 

Handily, it's open till 3am, Monday to Sunday. So even if you've had a particularly long stint on the slopes – as this lot clearly have – there's still time to get in an enormous flagon of Löwenbräu before retiring to your Alpine chalet. Happy days.

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!

NQ64 Arcade Bar

60–61 St Mary Street, Cardiff [map]

Previously the site of bizarro sports compound The Bunker, 60–61 St Mary Street is now home to the Instagram-friendly retro-future arcade games cyberbar of your dreams. Or nightmares. Depending on how you look at it.

There's a small but perfectly formed selection of beers on tap, although branding your house lager '4-Bit' Pilsner isn't exactly selling it. Obviously, we opt for the 4-Bit Pilsner.

While you're at the bar, you can also buy tokens for the parade of vintage arcade games on offer – the raison d'être of the whole place. Sundry games consoles from 'yesteryear' are also available to play for free.

Rarely will you see anyone playing cutesy shoot-'em-up compendium Point Blank 2 in as resolutely melancholy a manner as this.

Edgy.

If you're looking for what semiologist Roland Barthes – in a chapter entitled 'The World of Wrestling' in his seminal 1957 tome Mythologies – referred to as, "The primary virtue of the spectacle, which is to abolish all motives and all consequences," via the medium of an early '90s coin-operated videogame, then WWF WrestFest is just the ticket.

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.

Beelzebubs

17–19 Church Street, Cardiff [map]

Beelzebub. Proper noun. A name for the Devil. Origin: From late Latin Beëlzebub, translating Hebrew ba'al zĕḇūḇ 'lord of flies', the name of a Philistine god (2 Kings 1:2), and Greek Beelzeboul 'the Devil' (Matt. 12:24).

Which is certainly at the more esoteric end of the spectrum when it comes to picking a name for your bar.

Fortunately, contrary to the brewhouse's monicker, heading inside is less like descending into the depths of hell and more like approaching a counter packed with craft beers that share a particularly identifiable branding aesthetic. So that's a relief.

I can't actually remember what this is but I do vaguely recall that, if you drink too many of them, it's a pretty accurate reflection of the state of your urine the following morning.

Looks like there's some sort of sporting activity taking place, no doubt involving men and balls. Which makes a change.

Holy shit, where did this lot come from?

Still, you've got to love that bloke's natty flat cap/horn-rimmed specs/patterned scarf combo. I bet he's got really great trousers as well. After all, the devil has all the best pantaloons.

Taxi!

The Flute & Tankard

4 Windsor Place, Cardiff [map]

So, here we are back at The Flute & Tankard for the first time in aeons. In fact, we haven't been here since it was still called The Promised Land (of which more presently). 

As you can see, they've sent out the welcoming committee.

We amble towards the main bar, which is reassuringly busy.

Always good to see punters engage in that classic drinking trope in which you pour the remains of one drink into another pint that you've taken a few sips of (bottom left). We all do it, don't we, even though it's *entirely pointless*.

Down the far end and there's no shortage of imbibing going on as the world is set to rights. All good stuff.

Head upstairs and there's a second bar along with extra seating in a space that also doubles as a function room.

Back in 'the day', we put on a few gigs here, with varying degrees of success, although the first one was particularly memorable as we somehow managed to get the Guardian website to run a preview of it (back when they had a local Cardiff blogger), and subsequently packed the place out with a bill that was headlined by a drummerless two-piece who sounded like The Fall being clonked repeatedly over the head with a small brass instrument (but in a good way).

Unfortunately, The Promised Land shut down unceremoniously when the owners did a runner just before Christmas one year, taking the wages that staff were owed with them. Not so much The Promised Land, more The Really Shitty Thing to Do Land.

Anyway, back to the present-day. While The Flute & Tankard is just off a stretch of Queen Street that you perhaps wouldn't naturally gravitate towards of an evening, it's well worth popping in for a swift pint if you're passing.

Just bear in mind that there's significantly less chance these days that you'll stumble upon a gig here featuring a "guitar/skronk/drum machine/cornet/abuse duo".

The Head of Steam

18–19 Church Street, Cardiff [map]

Previously the site of a Harvester and, going back into the mists of time even further, Old Orleans, these sizeable premises have now been given a rail-themed scrub-up and transformed into a jack-of-all-trades bar. You know: craft ales, food, sport, live DJs. And so on.

There's a swathe of these places in the north but this is their first venture into Wales.

I don't really get the whole train-based vibe – why would you want to remind customers of our failing rail network of an evening? – but at least they don't take the theme to its logical conclusion: "Due to signalling problems, this pint has been diverted via Prestatyn and will be delayed by approximately two days. We apologise for any inconvenience caused."

Not entirely sure what The Photographer was aiming for with this shot. Still, as you can see, they've got some lovely wooden and tiled criss-cross flooring.

Now, I do like a booth and these are very well done, with lamps, charging points and – a nice touch this, you have to agree – overhead coat racks.

Upstairs, and there's a kind of vintage, industrial chic vibe afoot. And that's just the customers.

Blimey, this room is so bright it could have written A Brief History of Time.