Lincoln is a conveniently central, if rather tiny, college. Its bar is a short trek from a handful of colleges, and one which is actually worth making. The bar, called Deep Hall, ingeniously named in reference to its relative placement to the College’s Hall, was identifiable by the sign on the door disallowing externally bought food and drinks.
Although I perhaps wouldn’t have described the cellar bar as ‘atmospheric’, the chosen adjective on the College website (which I first consulted to check that this cozy college even had a bar), it did immediately seem to be a pleasant environment. The room was modern, uncluttered, unpretentious, warm, and surprisingly full. The furniture and decoration was mostly basic and unconventional, with the exception of a few gaudy blue plush couches by the door, which looked comfortable, if out of place, among the wooden benches.
Upon approaching the counter, I was quickly served by the burly, blokey barman, whose confident competence was a refreshing change from the usual lazy confusion of humanities students trying to fund their Park End addiction. When I asked for the college drink, he just laughed at me, and explained that the nine-pound concoction is designed to get rugby lads drunk in five minutes, and would have me under the table. This choice of target market surprised me, considering the content, subdued, hipstery clientele that filled the bar (shoutout to the notable wavey hero in the neon orange suit) but perhaps the intention was to get them out as well as drunk.
Embarrassed, I settled for a pint of pale ale from the fair selection of beers on tap, which was considerably cheaper than the aforementioned toxic cocktail. With a perfectly balanced mix of friendliness and efficiency, he poured it and moved on to the next group, leaving me grateful I’d thought to bring money, as the card machine opposite the entrance charged an extortionate £1.10 per transaction. Despite the friendly, social crowd, it was easy to hide behind a table in an alcove in the wall for a private catch up with an old friend. There we weren’t bothered, due in part to the good acoustics of the lofty cellar, and there we remained until the bar closed oddly early. At 11 pm (and on a weekend night, no less), we were politely ushered out of the college and made our way to a proper pub.
Although unspectacular, Deep Hall is a pleasant place to drink and socialise, assuming that you remember to bring cash with you and don’t expect the character, uniqueness, nuance, and tradition that your own college bar may offer.
Rating: ★★★☆☆ (3/5)
