Gatsby's Bristol

Slip up the narrow staircase above Park Street and the modern city fades; Gatsby’s greets you with candle‑lit tables, bow‑tie bartenders, and the soft crackle of a gramophone. This pocket‑sized speakeasy was built for unhurried conversation—teapots arrive steaming with shared cocktails, loose‑leaf Darjeeling rests beside crystal coupes, and background jazz hums just loud enough to draw a smile without breaking the spell. Every syrup is stirred in‑house, every garnish cut fresh, and with space for only a handful of guests each booking feels like a password‑protected secret. Yet beneath the 1920s polish beats a fiercely local heart. Independent ownership means Bristol distillers appear on every shelf, the menu changes with West Country harvests, and staff greet returning regulars by name. Sit by the balcony window and you’ll spot hidden nods to Fitzgerald: green‑light absinthe mists, Champagne coupettes nicknamed “Daisy’s Delight”, and a midnight toast that encourages strangers to clink glasses like old friends. In an age of crowded clubs, Gatsby’s offers a rarer thrill—an intimate hideaway where time slows, stories flow, and care is lavished on each perfectly balanced pour.