The Best Places to Drink in the United Kingdom

Vintage coins pressed under the bar top set the tone at this Bethnal Green cocktail bar, where the room splits neatly between neighbourhood ease and something more considered. The French accent runs deep, calvados showing up in more places than you might expect, but the drinks are built to be enjoyed rather than admired. The 50 Discovery from The World's 50 Best Bars is the kind of nod that fits: low-key, but hard to ignore.

The same team behind Three Sheets runs this moody, minimalist cocktail bar tucked into a Crouch End parade of shops, which is either the last place you'd expect to find serious mixology or exactly where you'd hide it. The drinks toggle between the familiar and the quietly strange: an Old Fashioned with caramelised white chocolate, a martini stirred with avocado leaf cordial. Locals fill most of the seats, but people do make the trip.

The punch bowl is the whole point here, a cocktail bar tucked behind the lobby of the London Edition that has committed to the format so thoroughly that sharing is basically mandatory. Dark wood, candlelight, and an open fire make it feel like a private club from a century ago, if private clubs had taken reservations. Go with people you like enough to split a drink with.

You book online and put a card down just to get through the door, which tells you something about how seriously Nightjar takes itself as a cocktail bar. The pre-war speakeasy atmosphere on City Road runs to live jazz, blues, ragtime, and the occasional cabaret set, so you're choosing between a quiet corner for the drinks or a front-row seat to the whole production. Either way, the program is the point.

The bar bills still come printed from "The Bar With No Name Ltd," even though there's now a branded canopy outside giving the whole speakeasy game away. This tiny cocktail bar on a quiet Islington corner seats fewer than forty, so ring ahead. Inside, eight green industrial lamps hang spider-like over a two-tone room that lands somewhere between 1950s Italian café and serious molecular mixology den, which is a combination nobody else is attempting.

A cocktail bar born from misfortune, Casual by Tayēr started as the team's answer to a fire that shuttered their original spot. Tucked inside Cato on Mercer Street, it runs as a pop-up series, each chapter riffing on a new theme through the Tayēr lens. The drinks pull from both sides of the original pairing, Tayēr's creativity meeting Elementary's precision, and the tight space puts you closer to the bartenders than almost any bar stool could.

A Victorian pump house tucked down one of Edinburgh's famously steep closes off the Royal Mile, Devil's Advocate is a cocktail bar with a back bar stacked with over 200 Scotch and world whiskies that stops most people in their tracks on the way in. The space runs across several levels, all sleek and modern in a way that shouldn't work inside a Victorian pump house but does. The cocktail list pulls equal weight with the whisky wall.

A cocktail bar on the 52nd floor of the Shard, Gŏng has the views you'd expect and, rarer than it sounds at this altitude, cocktails that could hold their own at ground level too. The name comes from "dougong," the interlocking wooden brackets of traditional Chinese architecture, which you can spot supporting the shelves behind the bar. Shangri-La service, an infinity pool next door, and a horizon that covers most of southern England.

You enter through a red phone box at the mouth of Clifton Down station, which tells you most of what you need to know. Inside, the British theme runs all the way down, cozy sofas for groups, limited bar stools, and a pocket-sized menu small enough to pocket as a souvenir. The small team runs it like a living room they're genuinely attached to, and the bar shows it. A cocktail bar with a spy name and a neighborhood heart.

The paparazzi camped on the mews out back are, in their own way, part of the ambience. The Ladder Shed is the bar tucked into Chiltern Firehouse, the gothic Victorian fire station turned celebrity hotel on a quiet Marylebone backstreet. It draws the kind of crowd that arrives by arrangement and leaves by the side door, which makes ordering a drink feel faintly conspiratorial and, depending on your outlook, either tedious or a good story.

There's no sign outside, just a bell to push and a lobby that makes you feel like you're about to do something mildly illicit. Milk and Honey is a members-style cocktail bar on Poland Street with a downtown New York pedigree, the sibling of Sasha Petraske's Manhattan original that helped reshape what a serious bar could be. The hush inside is very much the point.

The bar top is cast from old pavement lights, and the water carafes are repurposed gin bottles, which tells you everything about the aesthetic before you've ordered. Sager and Wilde is a candlelit wine bar on Hackney Road, bare brick and unpretentious, where the list is the whole point. Early evenings, light cuts through the Venetian blinds at a mood-appropriate angle; after that, candles take over and the room does the rest.

A white marble bar with glass shelving draws the eye the moment you walk into this hotel cocktail bar on the upper floor of the Blythswood Square. Red velvet seating and a long chandelier set the tone, which is somewhere between grand and genuinely comfortable. Waiters bustle between the white columns with the quiet urgency of people who mean it. Difford's Guide awards it five stars, which in cocktail-bar terms is the whole stack.

Flute is the rooftop cocktail bar at Broadwick Soho, where someone clearly signed off on an unlimited budget for pink cushions. Expect velvet everywhere, fruity cocktails that can climb to £40, and a wraparound terrace built for staring wistfully at the London skyline while a friend takes the photo. It's a dress-up, spend-a-bit kind of place, and The Infatuation has ranked it among the city's best bars.

The Coral Room is a hotel bar in Bloomsbury that appears to have been painted by someone who was told pink was a personality. Afternoon tea with finger sandwiches gives way by evening to a crowd drinking champagne under a Murano chandelier, so a French 75 is the obvious order. The cocktail menu rotates, and prices sit around the high teens, which is London hotel bar for fair.

The Painter's Room is a small cocktail bar tucked inside Claridge's, done up in the sort of pink shell and stained glass that makes your own flat feel like a storage unit. Expect champagne-forward drinks at Mayfair prices, around £22 for the priciest, ordered by people dressed for a premiere they may or may not be attending. It's the kind of room where a first date either gets engaged or gets the bill.

The Savoy Cocktail Book was written here, which tells you everything about where this cocktail bar sits in the pecking order. Black-and-white photos of Sinatra and a roll call of legendary bartenders line the walls, and the room carries that weight without trying too hard. It's all dark wood, white-jacketed staff, and a sense that the person mixing your drink could answer almost any question about the Martini.

Monkey nuts spill out of tankards and the wall behind the bar is stacked floor-to-ceiling with bottles in every color imaginable. This cocktail bar on the edge of Brick Lane dresses like an old British pub but drinks nothing like one: bartenders in braces produce whimsical concoctions that arrive in flasks tucked inside envelopes, garnished with edible golf balls and general nonsense. The rock-and-roll soundtrack keeps the whole thing from tipping into gimmick.

Glass demijohns of infused pisco line the bar at this subterranean Peruvian cocktail bar tucked beneath Coya on Piccadilly. The basement does a convincing job of making Mayfair disappear: carved woodwork and ornate South American details swallow the room whole. The crowd leans well-dressed, which tracks for the postcode. Pisco anchors the menu, flanked by tequila and mezcal for anyone who needs convincing.

The Palladium leaf ceiling alone earns the room its swagger. Vesper Bar is a cocktail bar tucked inside The Dorchester with its own entrance on Park Lane, which tells you everything about the clientele's expectations. Martin Brudnizki designed it, all Sienna marble and intricate timber marquetry, and the twenties glamour reference lands without feeling costumy. Order the bar's namesake drink and pretend you're waiting for someone important.

A Venetian chandelier drops glass tendrils over the white marble bar counter, setting the tone for this small, stately Art Deco cocktail bar tucked beneath the staircase of Claridge's. Red leather stools and banquettes keep things plush without feeling stuffy, and a connecting room with a fireplace leads to the Snuggery, an intimate nook for twenty. The crowd runs toward people who already know which table they prefer.

Dukes Bar is a small, old-school martini room tucked inside a St. James's hotel, where Ian Fleming drank and "shaken, not stirred" is said to have been born. The glasses and spirits live in the freezer, and the drinks are mixed at your table with enough ceremony to make you forget the carpet. Expect strong pours, a hushed room, and cocktail prices that suit the postcode.

Le Magritte is the cocktail bar at The Beaumont hotel in Mayfair, reached through a chequerboard lobby, where a bartender in a white jacket stands before a golden art deco bar. The short menu runs from frothy and flirty to stiff and grown-up, though the Gatsby-adjacent room mostly invites a classic. Expect cashmere, Mayfair money, and the odd jet-lagged guest quietly steadying themselves with an Old Fashioned.

Red Room is the scarlet little sibling to The Connaught Bar, tucked into the Mayfair hotel and priced accordingly. Cocktails lean on wine and moody spirits, which makes the pastel pink sofas a source of low-grade dread if you order the beaujolais-and-pisco number. The rosé and Campari drink suits anyone who's been quietly cheating on Negronis. Dress like your trust fund is already vested.

Space Talk is a hi-fi cocktail bar on St John Street in Farringdon, dressed in 1970s walnut and chrome like a record shop that went to finishing school. The panelling was designed by an actual acoustician, which is a job title that makes the rest of the interior feel unreasonably committed. Phones are banned, so couples on early dates have nothing to hide behind except a vermouth-forward drink and each other.

The back-lit bar front glows like a stage set, which is fitting given that this is exactly where the Savoy's old cabaret stage once stood. The Beaufort Bar is a cocktail bar done in black and gold, all deep carpets, plush upholstery, and enough gold leaf to make a Dubai hotel blush. The bartenders perform accordingly. A classic London hotel bar, except louder about it.

The Rivoli is the cocktail lounge off the Ritz lobby, where gold is less a colour than a house rule, right down to the leaf floating in the fizzing Ritz 110. Velvet leopard-print chairs add some mischief to the glamour. Expect a hotel-bar price tag and the sort of people-watching that makes you wish a Bravo camera crew were seated nearby, mid-Gibson, discussing a settlement. Champagne cocktails are the obvious move, given the address.

Tramps Bar is a cocktail bar tucked into a gallery space near Old Street, where an oil painting of a foot hangs on the wall and the menu bans vodka and dirty martinis outright. The cinema speakers look like aircraft engines and pulse along to whatever's playing. Everyone drifting around the handsome bar holds a well-made drink with an air of mild detachment, yet the tables are comfortable enough to stay put.

The blood-red leather chairs and black marble fireplace make it clear this is not a bar you stumble into. Le Salon Bar sits on the third floor of Joel Robuchon's London restaurant, reached by an escorted lift ride that does set a tone. The Art Deco room is operatically good-looking, all alligator leather tables and studied drama. Order something with ambition and don't check your phone too obviously.

A corner pub on the south bank, one building shy of Tower Bridge, with a beer list that leans hard into cask and craft. The room has been freshened up from its former smoke-stained self, lime green seating and all, though the bones of an old London boozer are still there. Tourists coming off the bridge mix with local office workers who'd rather not admit they work next to the Mayor.

A basement cocktail bar below a Malaysian restaurant in Queen's Park, where the first challenge is finding the bell push to get in. The plaster walls are styled to look damp, which is a choice, and the dimly lit room leans hard into cellar speakeasy. The house cocktails do the heavy lifting, though the kitchen upstairs means the bar snacks are far better than they need to be.

A zinc bar, wrought-iron stools, and neon signs make the American Deco pitch boldly, but an open fireplace and vintage glassware keep it from feeling like a theme park. This Notting Hill cocktail bar leans into the Manhattan fantasy with enough warmth and genuine antique paraphernalia to make you forget it's a bit of a concept. The cocktail list is long and inventive, which is ultimately the whole point.

The cocktail bar inside 45 Park Lane, the Dorchester's boutique sibling, has quietly been letting Wolfgang Puck's restaurant take all the attention. That suits the bar just fine. The team behind the stick has pedigree from the Dorchester and the Savoy's American Bar, and the drinks menu shows it, with combinations that feel considered rather than clever-for-its-own-sake. A civilized place to drink well without the full Mayfair production number.

The bar is the first thing you see walking into Hotel Missoni, set dead center like a declaration of intent. It's a cocktail bar done in the fashion house's signature bold colors and two-tone patterns, which sounds like it could go wrong and somehow doesn't. The island counter gives plenty of room to perch, or you can sink into one of the deep booth banquettes if you'd rather commit to the evening properly.

The copper-topped bar and wood-panelled walls give this Soho cocktail bar the feel of someone's very well-stocked living room, which suits the mood upstairs from Jason Atherton's Social Eating House. The drinks are serious, and the bar snacks, pork sliders and duck rillettes among them, are the kind of thing that makes leaving harder than it should be. "Dill or No Dill" remains on the menu, which tells you enough about the room's personality.

The indoor cigar lounge is technically a "sampling room," which is the kind of legal creativity that keeps Scotch-and-jazz bars alive. This two-floor Canary Wharf outpost of the Belgravia original runs a crustacean and cocktail bar on the first floor alongside a heated terrace looking out over Cabot Square. Champagne and single malts do most of the heavy lifting, and pre-revolutionary Cuban cigars are available if the evening calls for it.

A frosted window glowing from within is the only sign anything is happening on Rose Street North Lane, which is either charming or inconvenient depending on how long you've been walking. Bryant and Mack is a speakeasy-styled cocktail bar with seating for about twenty, a no-standing rule, and the kind of atmosphere that rewards the people who actually find it, assuming there's room when they do.

A cocktail bar on Rivington Street that takes its name from the Jabberwocky poem, which sets expectations correctly: the room is smaller than it looks, then larger than it should be, with a wardrobe somewhere in the middle that leads somewhere else. The Mad Hatter aesthetic could easily tip into theme-park territory, but the drinks keep it honest. Shoreditch has no shortage of bars pretending to have personality; this one at least has a family portrait on the wall.

A hole-in-the-wall bar and deli tucked into Covent Garden, Champagne et Fromage specializes in grower champagnes, the kind made by the people who grew the grapes rather than the big houses that get all the attention. Around two dozen options pour by the glass alongside a cheese counter, making it equal parts wine bar and very convincing argument for skipping dinner reservations entirely.

Patterned wallpaper, low-slung couches, and a bar running along one wall of a dimly lit basement room: this is a wine bar that takes itself seriously without making you feel underdressed. It shares a pedigree with Paris's Compagnie Des Vins Surnaturels and the Experimental Cocktail Club, which means the list is long and the staff know it cold. Neal's Yard is a strange little pocket of London, and this fits right in.

An antler chandelier greets you at the door of this two-floor cocktail bar on Cotham Hill, which runs bigger than its frontage suggests. The Scandinavian-leaning fit-out keeps things clean and calm, with booth seating that nudges the room toward intimate rather than cavernous. The team leans into service in a way that feels deliberate rather than performative, which on a Bristol hill is rarer than it should be.

A basement cocktail bar beneath a City pub, with a name that sounds like it handles mergers but actually refers to the house's two signature batched cocktails: the Demon, something stiff and stirred, and the Wise, a lighter sour. Each batch is different, and a snooker scoreboard above the back bar counts down however many pours remain. The suits filing in after close of trade probably don't mind the urgency.

White-jacketed bartenders shake the house martini the same way they do at the Barcelona original, which has been doing it this way for what feels like forever. This cocktail bar sits deep inside the Meliá White House Hotel, tucked into the no-man's-land north of Euston Road where tourists rarely wander and hotel guests sometimes stumble upon it by accident, which is arguably the correct way to find a very classical cocktail bar.

Four copper tanks of unpasteurised Pilsner Urquell, shipped weekly from the Czech Republic, greet you at the door and tell you immediately what kind of bar this is. Alan Yau, the name behind Hakkasan and Yauatcha next door, pitched it as a Chinese gastropub, which sounds like a PR concept until you're actually there with a cold lager and a plate of salt and pepper squid on a Soho afternoon.

The bar sits inside St. Pancras Renaissance Hotel, which means Victorian gothic arches, ornamental mouldings, and a ceiling hung with enormous church bells that are, it turns out, fiberglass. Nobody asks. The room leans into the maximalism hard, all gilt and warm colour, and it manages to feel intimate despite the grandeur. A cocktail bar where the architecture does a lot of the talking, and the talking is quite loud.

The polished bar hits you first as you descend into the old brewery basement, and it earns the entrance. This is a cocktail bar attached to the Hawksmoor steakhouse empire, which means the drinks are taken as seriously as the beef upstairs. The cavernous, low-lit room does read a little New York meatpacking district, but the building was brewing London's beer long before that neighborhood had a mood.

The concept started as a rotating bar that reinvented itself every few months, and somewhere along the way it just became a bar worth staying in. Hedonist on Briggate is a cocktail bar that has settled into its own skin, putting the focus on the drinks themselves rather than the next theatrical theme. The kind of place where the menu does the talking and the room doesn't need a costume to hold your attention.

Three Victorian cellars knocked into one give this basement bar its vaulted ceilings, still lined in original white porcelain tiles. The namesake Jake Burger has long since moved on to gin work in London, but the bar he built on Call Lane carries on with its reputation for being crammed, loud, and a little dangerous on a Friday. Arrive early later in the week or the door will make the decision for you.

A marble bar counter, two chalkboards, and a corner shop footprint that gives the whole thing a slightly miraculous quality. This is a sherry and tapas bar on Bermondsey Street, small enough that standing room feels like a personality choice rather than an oversight. The team knows their palo cortado from their manzanilla and will tell you which glass to order with whatever the kitchen is turning out that day.

A sliding door at the back of a fake launderette leads you into this speakeasy cocktail bar tucked inside The Breakfast Club's Clapham spot. It's the South London sibling to The Mayor of Scaredy Cat Town, where the trick is a vintage fridge. Here the ruse is spin cycles and detergent shelves. Book ahead if you can, or ask nicely at the front and keep your voice down about why you're really there.