Strathies

Strathies is the epitome of spit and sawdust. To say it is «no frills» is the understatement of the century. My boyfriend and I popped in for a quick drink as we walked along Pollockshaws road. As soon as we passed through the door we mutually mentally agreed it was to be an even quicker one.
To be fair I’ll say Strathies was not for us but it may suit those with different requirement of a local watering hole. Those who appreciate the musical genius of ACDC and prefer the band to be blasted at an ear bleeding decibel level.
Those who like their clientele more than a little «rough around the edges» (and I don’t just throw that phrase around. I’m from Clydebank).
Those who would choose to down their Tennents in a pub with décor that can, at best, be described as «rustic» at worst «a dump.»
Those people would love Strathies.

«Life’s a bitch and so am I». «I’m a bitch, just not your bitch.» Just two of the stickers which lined the bar of Strathies while Highway to Hell blared out from the jukebox. This should be enough to give you an indication of what this place is like.
Hard drinking and hard rocking (all of the most played songs on the jukebox are by AC/​DC), Strathies is not a place for the faint-​hearted but equally it’s not as scary as it may seem at first.
Despite its rough exterior, the Southside establishment offers all the simple things you could really ask of a bar; football on TV, jukebox, cheap drink, pool table and darts board. It’s actually rather welcoming in a «do what your told, and we’ll leave you alone» type way.
While I can’t say I’ll be frequenting here often, give me this sort of bar over the sterile style bars of the West End any day.
Rock on, I say (although I’d probably be barred if I uttered these words in the place).