This Friday back garden tourism took a night trip for a nostalgic boogie at Start the Bus, Corn Street
There are few more Bristolian evenings than a night that starts with a very slightly flat pint o’ Thatchers at The Mother’s Ruin (redeemed by, unusually in my experience, being in a glass glass) accompanied by noisy, vaguely tuneful live rock.
With odd decor – a broken piano stuck to the wall, bottle top encrusted tables – and a man at the bar earnestly asking what ‘frivolous’ meant because he had seen a poster in the gents advertising ‘frivolous girls’, its a real old-man-cum-hipster-student boozer. Which, not that I am any of those things, I love. The bar people invariably have ludicrous shades of hair colour and are always chatty. You have to shout a bit and it’s always busy. The proof is in the social media: I haven’t seem many pubs with 3,400 and something likes on Facebook.
From there it’s a short (hip)hop, avoiding stag parties reeling out of Revs next door, to Start the Bus, where on the first Friday of every month you can feel like you’ve just stepped into the set of Save the Last Dance (if you close your eyes to the yuppy white Bristol crowd and listen to the music that is).
Uh huh you do. Two or three Magners down and we certainly did. In style. Nuff said, as they say. We sung the praises of Bristol with a drunken Bedminster bloke. We got over-excited about the Christmas menu. We got down to Fat Man Scoop.
You could certainly tell who the Nineties kids were… And guess what the first songs to be added to the New Year’s Eve playlist were today?
Get your grunge on and get down to (or at) Start the Bus on the first Friday of each month for their 90s House Party night. Admission £2 after 10pm. Open til 3am. HOLLER.