FEATURE: THE ISOLATION OF ABERDEEN A DRINKERS DREAM

by Chris Hammond

Bleak, desolate, grey, wet, misty and teeming with dry, misanthropic oil rich goons – this is Aberdeen. Or at least that’s how many would have you believe the Granite city is these days. In truth it’s as buoyant and fun loving a city as any in Europe, with a night life second to none in terms of variety.

On a summers day the city sparkles in the sun. Glistening like diamond the Tollbooth, Castlegate and Marishcal College loom impressively on the horizon whilst the full grandeur of the relatively low rent Union Street is realised at the very least above shop level through the glorious spires, turrets, ramparts and architectural oddities on display. Nice place for a drink then?

Well yes and no. Aberdeen lacks any real outdoor drinking dens in the centre making summertime street drinking a tad problematic for tourist and local alike. In fact beer gardens are something the city completely lacks, with the charming Globe, brilliant Café 52 and the slightly out of the way student cesspit the Bobbin being the exceptions to the rule.

It’s the traditional pubs Aberdeen scores highly on. Unlike the tourist riddled Scottish capital Aberdeen’s more aged watering holes have survived commercial exploitation. Here an old style bar is just that, no razzmatazz, no t-shirts to buy and no huddled bands of fearful Japanese tourists. Good pints, friendly atmospheres and old school boozyness can be found best in classy Greyfriars, brilliant Prince Of Wales, legendary time capsule known as The Blue Lamp and the literally tiny Under The Hammer.

Trendy bars are however at a premium, and as a result the more conscientious drinker has suffered terribly since the loss of Estaminet a few years back. As a result beyond the aforementioned more traditional haunts much of the city centre is littered with absolute shit holes, infested with tubes, skanks and knuckle draggers. The worst of these horrors include the hellish Liquid, bland Wild Boar, hideously poorly staffed Revolution and gargantuan waste of space Chicago Rock Bar.

Unlike most of Scotland’s cities new pubs don’t tend to spring up in Aberdeen very often. But from the eclectic mayhem of the harbours Moorings and raucous Basement to the more civilised Ma Cameron’s there is a bar for every conceivable type of lush. Pack your bags get on the train and don’t expect to come back sober – this is Scotland’s insular gem and I wouldn’t have it any other way.