HTM69
19-10-2010, 10:26
Last Thursday evening, my friend and I - why, I'm not sure - ended up in The Elusive Camel bar in Victoria/Pimlico - not sure which area it's goes under. Sufice to say, the evening was as atrocious as the previous time spent here and it only serves to make the below review even funnier. The review is now a year-or-so old and I have previously posted it on a rival website, but it's still utterly relevant and as funny as ever.
Enjoy!
Pssst, want to know a secret? Come close because this is undoubtedly one of those ‘best kept’ secrets you occasionally catch wind of. You see that Elusive Camel? Well, it’s not what you think it is. Or what it WAS, to be more precise. Patrons who previously watered at this establishment might well be inclined to opt for words like ‘trough’ and ‘den of iniquity’ when describing their erstwhile experiences. Yet, if you go down to the woods tonight you’re in for a big surprise because The Camel of yore is but a distant and elusive memory. Thank Gord!
Back in the year of our recession - 2008 - VPMG came along and changed everything, forever. If you’ve never heard of VPMG, it’s neither an acronym to describe an uncomfortable underwear situation nor the latest multi-national bank to fall foul of said recession. No, VPMG is a consortium whose primary business concern is the waving magic wands. If you’ve witnessed the swanky Pigalle Club, or the equally ritzy Bloomsbury Ballroom, you’ll understand the level that VPMG works at. With The Elusive Camel, they’ve turned what was a metaphoric Sean Bean into what is a metaphoric Sean Connery.
Gone are the estate hoodies and grubby construction workers who finally broke The Camels back. Stepping up to replace them are yards and yards of tailored-made suit, armed with company credit cards, astutely hatching tomorrow’s deals during their midweek confab.
Pre-Pacha clubbers take ownership of the weekends, posing amongst the standing-room-only tables outside, sporadically venturing back in to witness the House the DJ built. Gone are the salad days of quasi-Walkabout notoriety, when beer taps and picnic benches were the norm.
So, what would you rather do? Hang around with be-jandaled Australians shouting obscenities at a TV bracketed to the wall, cursing a sport you don’t really understand, OR sink slowly into a low-slung, leather sofa before engaging in some prime time social networking with your colleagues? If you answered the former, the Wetherspoons up the road is more suited to you, sonny, because here at The Camel you’re expected to behave and dress responsibly. If not, the enforcer will eject you politely from the premises and you’ll never be privy to such sophistication again.
This new way of thinking has filtered into the drinking, too. Beers are practically a thing of the past and The Camel proudly presents a cocktail list that speaks your language. It knows you like the classics but also knows you’re a risk taker, so promises expansion on the familiar. It’s also aware of your frugal nature, and has deals, deals, deals galore. It even knows when you’ve got an important meeting tomorrow and, correspondingly, sets aside a non-alcholic ‘Elusive’ signature drink. What a caring list. Impeccably presented every time, hardly missing a beat.
Sadly, boys will be boys and all too often the elder statesmen of this micro-society are seen ordering exotic drinks such as Grolsch Extra Cold. Wow! Chaps, sort yourselves out. Expand your horizons. Let go of the lager, embrace the veritable tome of new and enticing flavours on offer. Do yourself a favour, put down that pint and release yourself from the shackles of tradition and conformity. Stride proudly up to the bar and order a manly berry Caipirinha. You life will enriched so.
The golden hue of the Polish Martini is the dawn of a new day captured in a glass. The ginger ale of the Mango Bourbon has a soothing medicinal piquancy and so surely must be good for you. The milky Brandy Alexander is liquid Tiramisu and is easily the best way to bookend your evening.
Oh, and the wine list ain’t half bad either.
The Camel’s transient crowd slots nicely into ‘post-work’ or ‘pre-club’ categories and this isn’t a venue for ‘having a sesh’. Not unless your sesh falls between the hours of 4 and 7pm, when cocktails are £3.50 a piece. If your weekend likes to start early, then watch out for the dangerously funky Thursday nights, when it’s almost mandatory to get your groove on before 9pm.
Although the name might suggest otherwise, The Elusive Camel is decidedly easy to locate and its proximity to Victoria Station is brilliant for that last-train-home dash/stagger. Plus, the neighbouring competition poses practically no threat whatsoever, with Wetherspoons bearing the brunt of beer brigade.
The Elusive is not an upper class cocktail bar, but it certainly maintains a healthy position amongst the semi-detached, broadsheet-reading, kids-in-grammar-school upper middle classes of the libation world. Christian Rose-Day (06 07 2009)
Enjoy!
Pssst, want to know a secret? Come close because this is undoubtedly one of those ‘best kept’ secrets you occasionally catch wind of. You see that Elusive Camel? Well, it’s not what you think it is. Or what it WAS, to be more precise. Patrons who previously watered at this establishment might well be inclined to opt for words like ‘trough’ and ‘den of iniquity’ when describing their erstwhile experiences. Yet, if you go down to the woods tonight you’re in for a big surprise because The Camel of yore is but a distant and elusive memory. Thank Gord!
Back in the year of our recession - 2008 - VPMG came along and changed everything, forever. If you’ve never heard of VPMG, it’s neither an acronym to describe an uncomfortable underwear situation nor the latest multi-national bank to fall foul of said recession. No, VPMG is a consortium whose primary business concern is the waving magic wands. If you’ve witnessed the swanky Pigalle Club, or the equally ritzy Bloomsbury Ballroom, you’ll understand the level that VPMG works at. With The Elusive Camel, they’ve turned what was a metaphoric Sean Bean into what is a metaphoric Sean Connery.
Gone are the estate hoodies and grubby construction workers who finally broke The Camels back. Stepping up to replace them are yards and yards of tailored-made suit, armed with company credit cards, astutely hatching tomorrow’s deals during their midweek confab.
Pre-Pacha clubbers take ownership of the weekends, posing amongst the standing-room-only tables outside, sporadically venturing back in to witness the House the DJ built. Gone are the salad days of quasi-Walkabout notoriety, when beer taps and picnic benches were the norm.
So, what would you rather do? Hang around with be-jandaled Australians shouting obscenities at a TV bracketed to the wall, cursing a sport you don’t really understand, OR sink slowly into a low-slung, leather sofa before engaging in some prime time social networking with your colleagues? If you answered the former, the Wetherspoons up the road is more suited to you, sonny, because here at The Camel you’re expected to behave and dress responsibly. If not, the enforcer will eject you politely from the premises and you’ll never be privy to such sophistication again.
This new way of thinking has filtered into the drinking, too. Beers are practically a thing of the past and The Camel proudly presents a cocktail list that speaks your language. It knows you like the classics but also knows you’re a risk taker, so promises expansion on the familiar. It’s also aware of your frugal nature, and has deals, deals, deals galore. It even knows when you’ve got an important meeting tomorrow and, correspondingly, sets aside a non-alcholic ‘Elusive’ signature drink. What a caring list. Impeccably presented every time, hardly missing a beat.
Sadly, boys will be boys and all too often the elder statesmen of this micro-society are seen ordering exotic drinks such as Grolsch Extra Cold. Wow! Chaps, sort yourselves out. Expand your horizons. Let go of the lager, embrace the veritable tome of new and enticing flavours on offer. Do yourself a favour, put down that pint and release yourself from the shackles of tradition and conformity. Stride proudly up to the bar and order a manly berry Caipirinha. You life will enriched so.
The golden hue of the Polish Martini is the dawn of a new day captured in a glass. The ginger ale of the Mango Bourbon has a soothing medicinal piquancy and so surely must be good for you. The milky Brandy Alexander is liquid Tiramisu and is easily the best way to bookend your evening.
Oh, and the wine list ain’t half bad either.
The Camel’s transient crowd slots nicely into ‘post-work’ or ‘pre-club’ categories and this isn’t a venue for ‘having a sesh’. Not unless your sesh falls between the hours of 4 and 7pm, when cocktails are £3.50 a piece. If your weekend likes to start early, then watch out for the dangerously funky Thursday nights, when it’s almost mandatory to get your groove on before 9pm.
Although the name might suggest otherwise, The Elusive Camel is decidedly easy to locate and its proximity to Victoria Station is brilliant for that last-train-home dash/stagger. Plus, the neighbouring competition poses practically no threat whatsoever, with Wetherspoons bearing the brunt of beer brigade.
The Elusive is not an upper class cocktail bar, but it certainly maintains a healthy position amongst the semi-detached, broadsheet-reading, kids-in-grammar-school upper middle classes of the libation world. Christian Rose-Day (06 07 2009)