Cord

If navigating around the Northern Quarter wasn't already like solving the Crystal Maze, some bright spark decided to put a beaut of a bar like Cord down a side–street – which, come 9pm, suddenly reappears like a desert mirage. Visit with those who know its whereabouts, or you'll end up wandering around in circles and passing the same prostitute for the third time in 15 minutes. Oh, and yes, the walls really ARE covered in a putrid shade of brown cord.
P.S. – Good luck finding a seat.

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