Alright mate, I am getting to it-Food!

Well the Japs were finally playing Portugal in the much anticipated bottom of the table clash in the Rugby World Cup. Besides my raw fish eating friends and Jose Mourinho’s supporters, whom I don’t blame for losing all faith in soccer after a Smirnoff influenced board meeting caused his all too sudden departure, this match obviously bore no consequence to anyone-anywhere. This match only allowed the rest of the rugby fans around the world and players in France to catch up on the sleep they have been losing studying and watching the Kiwi’s and the toons that wore the emblem of the ‘Three Lions’ on their chest.

Being an alcoholic with a serious food problem, I decided to indulge in two of the deadliest sins, sloth and gluttony in my favourite sports bars- ‘Bungy Bar’. The conveniently located sports bar in Clarke Quay offers players and fanatics of the ‘gentlemen’s game’ a peppy and drunken respite from all other forms of life-family, societal and liver functionality included.( don’t blame us consumers it’s the bloody cheap beer and fantastic food that draws the likes of me to the south poles like north’s. Bloody Bungy! )

A menu that comprised of Aussie steak sandwiches, BB beef burgers, Seafood Marinaras’, Surf and Turfs’ and Nacho’s sounds bloody “extraordinary”. But sautéed Garlic Prawns, Bacon wrapped Enoki mushrooms, Marinated Feta cheese with Lemon and Oregano, Blue cheese steak sandwich and Honey Mustard chicken makes me wonder if Le Bungy Bouchon was a more appropriate name, and that’s not even including a tux and gown dress code.

A sports bar televising rugby, gourmet food, cheap beer and cheaper women. A dream come true. I always thought life was never fair. Cheers. Burp!

“Get me another VB on draft mate! And tell those girls to stop screaming everytime I get a beer!”

“It’s the G-Max mate!”

“Yea, whateva! I will max their ‘G’ after a couple of rounds-and I don’t charge. Burp!”

Bungy Bar is located in Clarke Quay, near the G-Max Reverse Bungies.

The Cowboy Hatted Pseudo Cubans are from Cuba Libre. By the looks of it just another place in Clarke Quay, wood all over, kinda cool. You look at the menu, it looks not too expensive. You start thinking Mojitos!

You go inside. There are band instruments inside. You are informed they play from Tuesdays till Saturdays. You sit down at a table inside but close to the exterior, looking up at the tops of the shophouse fronted outlets on the other side.

Looking around you see barstools made of bongo drums, the feature wall has this really neat image of a cuban woman with a massive cigar in her mouth. You start feeling at home already. The music, classic latin stuff, or should I say the more famous of latin tunes are all here. You start vibing already.