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".

Buffalo Bar

11 Windsor Place, Cardiff [map]


There's always plenty going on at the Buffalo. When we roll up, various bands are in the process of loading in for a gig that's taking place upstairs.

That bloke on the left appears to be having a full-on brawl with his guitar amp - and losing.


To the bar, where 'Cocktails & Dreams' are on offer. And to think our ambitions extend only to a couple of pints.


There's something particularly pleasing about the symmetry of the shelving unit displaying the spirits.

Just to the left of it, you may notice there's a blackboard flaunting a panini menu. We've checked, and no one in the history of drinking has ever decided half-way through a big night out that they quite fancy a lightly toasted Italian bread stuffed with brie.


It's all a bit knowingly hip but, then, so are we. It's like our natural habitat. Ahem.


Squint a bit and this could be your gran's front room, just with added Stella 4.


You can imagine the conversation.

Smoker to non-smoker: "Do you fancy sitting outside?"

Non-smoker: "Not really. It's a bit cold and I think it's starting to rain."

Smoker, utterly oblivious to what's just been said: "Great, see you out there."

Non-smoker: "Er…"

The Central Bar

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.

The Promised Land

4 Windsor Place, Cardiff [map]


We're not ones for rhetorical questions. Which is a good job really, as otherwise we'd be forced to ask: is this the least modestly named bar in Cardiff?

Still, this does feel like a bit of a find - a welcoming and intimate drinking den, just off the wrong end of Queen Street.

Closer inspection of the chalkboard on the right reveals the promise (or should that be the threat?) of a "Paul Weller All-Dayer". If anything's going to drive you to the bottle…


Modfather or otherwise, we march to the bar and wave our Pint of 45 credentials, whereupon we are immediately furnished with complimentary San Miguels.


And here are those very pints. There's nothing quite so delicious as free lager.


We perch at tables opposite the bar, at which there's plenty of lively banter taking place - despite the fact of it being the middle of a weekday afternoon.

Haven't these people got jobs to go to?


Further down is a little bistro-style dining area. Perfect if you need a bit of grub to soak up all that San Miguel.


We shamble upstairs for a nose at the second bar, where preparations are underway for what appears to be a children's birthday party.

Either that, or they're in the process of attempting to inflate enough helium balloons with which to fly away and escape the hell of it all.

One or the other.

33 Windsor Place

33 Windsor Place, Cardiff [map]


The more attentive (and sober) among you will by now have spotted that 33 Windsor Place - to give it its full, none-less-imaginative title - isn't actually open in this photo.

But we haven't resorted to breaking into licensed premises for the sake of a blog post. Not yet anyway.

It was simply too dark during our visit for The Photographer to get a decent shot of the outside.

Either that or, having recently achieved optimum inebriation, he forgot to take the picture at the time and had to go back for it at a later date - take your pick.


Enormous 45 pumps taking pride of place there, with Brains' other beers nestled to the right.

You can always tell when a drinkery fancies itself as a bit posh when - as is the case with the Guinness and Strongbow in the foreground - it doesn't use the proper badges on the pumps but instead goes for generic and indistinguishable labels.

Which, to be honest, isn't massively helpful when you've been at the booze all day and need all the visual clues you can get.


We always appreciate a good lampshade and, in this department, 33 doesn't disappoint.


It's a pleasant enough place for a couple of pints but anywhere that takes this many design cues from All Bar One isn't trying hard enough.


A bit of wall and a large, dark blob. Not, we have to concede, our finest work.

Although the fact that The Photographer is capable of operating a camera at all by this point is an achievement in itself.