Pick your poison, Raval or Gótico, both Manchesters are golden oldies. As one reviewer writes, “Qué manía tenemos de meternos en locales pequeños, oscuros, con asientos incómodos y calurosos como saunas.” Exactly! If you want a feather bed take your Pomeranian and bugger off, sweet cheeks. This is about a place where you can get drunk and have a fiery conversation (maybe even with a stranger!). Their one-euro€ beers before ten have kick-started many an evening, and Manchesters’ kikos have literally, historically, saved certain individuals from abject starvation. Unforgettable nights when that last fiver was destined for a liquid diet, guided by a vague hope someone might take an interest in said individuals sexual organs. Thank you, Manchester Bar.