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Mersey beats: One night in Liverpool’s compact but iconic Pride quarter

Like Liverpool's finest The Vivienne (rest in power), this city is friendly, fabulous and no frills, with the handful of surviving queer spaces cross-pollinating their customers

By Jamie Tabberer

a drag queen standing outside Navy bar
(Image: Provided)

‘Abracadabra, amor-oo-na-na!” Lady Gaga’s war cry reverberates around the walls of The Lisbon in Liverpool, as the room vibrates with energy. Within days, these words will be as familiar and iconic as “Roma, roma-ma”, but on this typically chilly Friday up north, ‘Abracadabra’ is still box-fresh, like industrial bottled lightning spilled across the dancefloor. As Gaga’s best song in 16 years revitalises queer nightlife once more, a painting by Collette Collinge of Liverpool’s finest, The Vivienne, late star of Drag Race UK’s first series, takes pride of place behind the bar, watching over the mayhem. Like Viv themself, the bar and the city are friendly, fabulous and no frills.

An early stop on an evening of barhopping in the city’s Pride Quarter, The Lisbon is located below ground, in a Grade-II listed building that dates back to 1888. Both The Vivienne and Gaga would approve of this venue’s surprising aesthetic flamboyance, which harks back to a Victorian-era trend for rebranding pubs as ‘gin palaces’ to appeal to the middle classes. On the surface, it’s a rowdy gay pub with pool table and sizeable dancefloor to boot. But the decorative ceiling, elaborate chandeliers and wooden carvings are thrillingly at odds with the riotous Skins party vibe of the crowd. (Which tonight, as well as cool, young kids, includes a bit of everything: bears with their arms out, butch lesbians — even a pint-supping vicar!) It’s so ornate that when we dance to not one but two age-old Britney signatures (‘Baby’ and ‘Oops’), we keep expecting someone’s parents to barge in and tell us to scarper, minding the woodwork as we go. (Then, when ‘Rock DJ’ by Robbie Williams comes on, we wonder if someone’s parent actually has taken control of the music and promptly leave.)

It’s a shock, upon departing this thriving bar at 11pm, to find Stanley Street and the surrounding area so quiet for a Friday night. The sight of a lone drag queen flyering tirelessly — long skirt billowing in the icy wind — is quite humbling. Still, Liverpool’s tiny gay quarter benefits from compactness, with the handful of surviving queer spaces cross-pollinating their customers. In a whirlwind three-hour window, we visit six bars. None have queues or cover charges, and all are just busy enough for a good time.

We had started the night at The Poste House, a tall, narrow building with a charming, classic Victorian facade that dates back to 1820. If not for predrinks, we’d recommend it for board games on a quiet Sunday afternoon. There’s a zippier atmosphere across the road at the poptastic Masquerade Bar, known for its cabaret and karaoke. Then, for a clubbier vibe, we finish the night at The Navy Bar 2.1, part of a trio of co-owned venues that are close together, including The Benidorm Bar (inspired by the Spanish resort town) and DYSCO. 

At The Navy, we drink and dance alongside at least two hen parties to — God help us — Natasha Bedingfield’s ‘Unwritten’ and become obsessed with a DJ booth designed to resemble a Gothic church pulpit (see opposite). The drink deals, including the FREEDAY Friday offer (£10 for one of the VIP Booth Seats for up to six people per booth — drinks are free), spell trouble for one young partygoer and a waitress with a trayful of sugary shots, which soon turn the already-sticky floor neon pink. We note how the chaos is handled quickly and with far warmer humour than it would be in London. 

As a whole, the vibrancy of Liverpool’s gaybourhood can’t be understated — and by the early hours, it’s much buzzier. We just wish, given that this is one of England’s most populous cities, the district was bigger and busier, with more diverse options. As we march back to our hotel, humming ‘Abracadabra’ as we go, we reflect on how dancing like idiots while swigging Sex on the Beaches can sometimes feel like a political act — if it keeps little treasures like these alive. 

Attitude travelled to Liverpool with Avanti West Coast