If Napoleon was still in Warwick he would hang out at Kelsey’s

Spending much of his adult life in Leamington, Napoleon III, in his day, would frequent the town houses of the aristocracy, rubbing elbows with the finest company Warwickshire had to offer. Today, the town’s high society congregates elsewhere, somewhere a bit more unsuspecting. At the bottom of the plush spa town lies the greatest establishment not only in Leamington, but in the known world. It is a bar fit, not for a king, but for an emperor.

I must confess, I am but a humble disciple of this magical place and nothing gives me more pleasure than my holy pilgrimage into its most glorious premises. Sitting on what seem to be the edge of civilisation, the border between north and south Leamington, Kelsey’s reminds me a lot of Mos Eisley Cantina from Star Wars, a la Ben Kenobi’s “wretched hive of scum and villainy”. It is commonly held that Friedrich Nietzsche once said “when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you”. Forget the abyss, he was talking about Kelsey’s.

Ballin’

The floor is a bit filthy, the drinks look fluorescent, I’ve seen people get glassed; all of this is part of its charm. It simply wouldn’t be Kelsey’s if there wasn’t a nagging feeling of mortal terror at the back of your mind. The clientele is always marvellous too. Where else in Leamington, nay, Eurasia, can you meet such a motley and interesting crew?

Imagine bumping into and consequently spending the night with a four-fingered Celt, someone claiming to be Tom Jones’ second cousin, and a tormented poet. The Kelsey’s experience is so surreal you’re never entirely sure what’s real and what isn’t.

Perfection is what it is

Journeying into the bathrooms is an adventure in itself. Walking into the men’s loo is like wading through a Petri dish. You’ll more likely than not be accosted by a drunkard simultaneously both offering to sell you stuff and demanding you to sell him some. You’ll probably leave them to crawl back upstairs having been confronted by at least two people.

Yet, despite all of this, Kelsey’s is a wonderful place. Everyone, from all walks of life: students, accountants, bus drivers, sales advisors, gay, straight, black, white, French emperors are united in Kelsey’s. The outside world is a hostile and cruel place, behind the dirt and grime of Kelsey’s façade we are all brothers and sisters united in this glorious place. Basically, if you’re coming back from Kelsey’s and your sense of reality hasn’t been warped, you’ve had a shit night and this is exactly why you should visit it.