Locals call it No Name as this bar actually has no official name. Reached by climbing a rickety flight of stairs away from the din of Fade Street, No Name is impossible to dislike. A series of warm, interconnected rooms filled with a mishmash of furniture in varying states of disrepair lead to the always-full outdoor terrace, which has its own bar and is never cold thanks to the carnival-style canopy. The wine is good here, but the cocktails are better (the passionfruit caipirinha has been one goop staffer’s standing order for close to a decade). Like a proper bar, No Name doesn’t serve food at night, so be sure to plan accordingly.

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