This weekend sees the closure of one of my favourite cocktail bars.
I’ve perched at the bar talking shop. I’ve been in for events and tastings. I’ve visited with friends for drinks late into the night. I’ve stopped for a quick one before home – which inevitably has led to another and a taxi home much later.
Their drinks have involved fire and ice, creativity, artistry, but have always had the substance behind their vision – the flavour to back up the prettiness. The garnishes have had the same imagination applied, from chocolate ladybirds, to buckets of dry ice.
And it’s being closed so that the building it is housed in can be knocked down.
Not because it’s not a popular bar. Not because it’s not a great place to visit. All because of that word that we love and hate at the same time. Progress.
In it’s place will be a large office building.
Though I understand they’ve been trying, no new site has been found for Elixir. Maybe in time there will be a new Elixir, a new site, maybe even a new name. But for now, this is the end.
And so I’m hoping tonight to stop in for my last drink, to write my name on the wall, literally, before it goes.
The last night will be Saturday, and you can book onto the guest list by dropping them an email. If you can, go. Write your own name, your own memories on the way. Say goodbye, show them how much we’re going to miss these booze filled dreams.
Between now and the close, maybe I’ll see you at the bar.
