The bar that launched a thousand Instagram posts … Ammar Kalia at Ballie Ballerson. Photograph: Graeme Robertson/The Guardian View image in fullscreen The bar that launched a thousand Instagram posts … Ammar Kalia at Ballie Ballerson. Photograph: Graeme Robertson/The Guardian Life and style I visited seven themed bars in one week. Can ball pits and bingo save British nightlife? While most hospitality venues are struggling, there has been an enormous rise in ‘competitive socialising’. But why? And could I find the answer while dressed in a prison jumpsuit and drinking a daiquiri?
Ammar Kalia Thu 2 Jul 2026 06.00 CEST Last modified on Thu 2 Jul 2026 07.10 CEST Share Prefer the Guardian on Google B ritish hospitality is in crisis. In the first quarter of 2026, three hospitality sites closed every day, while one in five remaining businesses fear collapse over the next year owing to rises in tax and employment costs. For those venues struggling to make ends meet in London in particular, there is the added worry of increasingly stringent licensing rules and influential lobby groups making once-thriving areas such as Soho a ghost town after 11pm.
And yet one hospitality niche seems to be bucking the trend: themed bars. Blending booze with, say, axe-throwing, darts, immersive theatre or adult-sized ball pits, these experiential venues have seen a boom in recent years. A report from Savills estate agents found a 58% increase in “competitive socialising” venue openings in 2025 compared with 2018, while another survey found one in three adults had visited one of these venues in the UK in 2024-25. Photo-friendly interiors have made many of them a hit on social media, too.
With younger generations drinking less but still wanting spaces to socialise, could themed bars be the future of British nightlife? I booked myself into seven of London’s most popular and outrageously themed bars to find out.
Down the cobbled back streets of the City of London lies a falafel shop with a secret: in its basement is a bar wired with microphones ready to record your every word. Aptly dubbed the First Podcast Bar – since no one else has yet had the bright idea of combining alcohol with audio publishing equipment – the venue has been open for six months and is the brainchild of restaurateur Uri Dinay.
I have loads of footage of people being drunk and crazy – but I’d never publish it. Don’t worry, I’m a good guy! Dinay, who already has seven restaurants, initially had other plans. “I thought we’d make this basement into a pitta bread factory, but before we did anything with it I invited friends and staff over,” he says into the microphone as we sit sipping pints. “They wanted to ask me questions about my life and career, so I thought: why not make it into a podcast? That’s how it all started.”
In theory, anyone who wanders into the bar on their event nights can sidle up to the mic and start chatting. Tonight, I have the awkward experience of speaking with him as a crowd of a dozen friends and family eavesdrop, drink and chat among themselves.
View image in fullscreen Miked up … Uri Dinay at his venue, the First Podcast Bar. Photograph: Ammar Khalia/The Guardian It’s a deeply overstimulating environment. The music is thumping, people are talking over each other, and I have the lingering feeling that everything I’m doing is going to land on YouTube. “I have loads of footage of people being drunk and crazy – but I’d never publish it,” Dinay reassures me. “Don’t worry...