23rd June 2007
A place of many parts
It was a balmy June weekday evening, and the Troubadour was very busy out back in the Mediterranean-style paved courtyard, and inside too. Happily it was not so packed that I couldn't find a table, since it's table-service only here: I was eventually informed of this by a member of staff after uselessly standing at the bar for several minutes with my purse out. It's a nice idea which, in practice, is a shambles: service was slow, paying even slower, and the practice of presenting just one bill per table a logistical nightmare for those wishing to pay separately, as we did.
But enough of my grumbling. The Troubadour is well worth a visit for the bohemian decor (check out the photos above), the sea of old string instruments hanging from the ceiling, the layers of old varnish on the woodwork, and the candle-lit tables. It would be terrific for an informal date - low-lit, intimate, and certain to bestow you with kudos for knowing somewhere so individual. I didn't eat, but noticed plates of burgers and French fries going past. We were primarily there for the live music, so eventually wandered downstairs to the basement, an area that loses its bohemian quality to make way for a typical subterranean gig-spot: all dark walls and slightly scruffy looking, with a normal bar thank goodness. Naturally you're not going to see the same line up that we did that night, but - for the record - the four acts we saw collectively get full points, a big tick, several gold stars and all the brownie points they can carry. If this is typical of the quality of entertainment at the Troubadour, I will definitely be going there again soon. There's comedy and poetry nights too.
Last but not least, the toilets deserve an honorary mention. First off, they're semi-unisex: chaps to the left, ladies to the right, with a bizarre font-like communal basin in the middle. But the hand dryers, oh! the hand dryers! You know the type that you have to wave your hands under for five minutes just to get one paltry cough of air? Well, this isn't the sort you'll find at the Troubadour. No. These hand dryers are so powerful your hands dry in seconds and your clothes and hair billow out dramatically behind you. As Major McCa, one of the entertainers on the night, said: "Is that a tsunami? No, it's just the world's strongest hand dryer."
Nearest tubes, West Brompton and Earls Court.
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