グッドバイ・ホースズ ― イズリントンでワイン、レコード、音楽が交わる場所
ラフィ・マーサー
新着物件
18 Halliford Street, London N1 3EQ, United Kingdom
Phone: (not listed—walk-ins welcomed)
It’s early evening in De Beauvoir Town, Islington—streets lined with Georgian terraces, the air half-damp and expectant. I stumble upon Goodbye Horses almost by accident, drawn in by a group waiting on the doorstep for the door to open. It’s as if the room inside—wine, vinyl, atmosphere—told them that something real’s about to happen.
Inside, the room offers a soft exhale. The long oak bar, carved from a single tree, extends like a statement of intent. At one end, vinyl racks stretch upwards, spilling records across shelves and making it clear: here, music is part of the décor, not wallpaper. This isn’t a pretentious claim—it’s what you notice before they do.
They play records here—sometimes quietly, sometimes deliberately, but always with a sense of balance. As founder George de Vos told Restaurant Online, “Music fills the space—even when it’s empty...the system we put in is so incredibly clear you can hear what’s playing and your conversation.” That speaks volumes. The bar isn’t just background—it’s part of dialogue.
And yes, the system is unmistakably a wine bar’s twist on audiophile rig: eight tube amplifiers channelling sound through four refurbished Lancaster speakers, delivering a warm quadraphonic glow. It’s not about volume. It’s about presence that enriches wine and conversation.
Food arrives, but it’s respectful of the atmosphere—seasonal small plates designed to nourish, not distract. The natural wine list is a conversation: ask and they’ll guide you. Sardine & sobrasada toast or oxtail ragout? You choose. All the while, the music pulses quietly.
This place isn’t formal. Reservations open just thirty days ahead, walk-ins are welcome, and no chains or neon signs clutter the facade. There’s just something singular about the rhythm: wine, plates, music, warmth. No pressure. Just perfect company with the records, the audio, and whoever you brought in with you.
Leaving, you carry a residue—a mellow syncopation of sound and taste you can’t stream. That’s the difference between a venue you see and one you absorb. Goodbye Horses is unapologetically alive in all the layers—not just wine, not just vinyl, but in how it listens.
Rafi Mercer writes about the spaces where music matters. For more stories from the Tracks & Tales, 購読する, or click here to read more.
