Funnily enough, a biker bar is a bar frequented by bikers. Instantly recognisable (so you'd think) by the rows of gleaming motorcycles that decorate the frontages of rural pubs, and large, hairy men in black leathers who hang around the doorways of city bars.

The jukeboxes suit me just fine. There's little of the poppy schmaltzy claptrap music, you'll find good rock, punk and stuff. And the food won't be spritzed with gourmet bloody sauces and stuff. A ham-and-cheese sandwich will be just that. No frills, simply top-rate pub grub.

Inside, the denizens will stand around scowling at any who deign to enter sans cuir, as they discuss their bikes, their drunken exploits, their women and their travels, whilst quaffing beer and enjoying their nosh.

So is this truth or malarkey? I have been in many such establishments, and, to be fair, rarely do they resemble the biker bar stereotype (though some were classified Very Dangerous Indeed). There may be some wild, hairy guys in leathers, but then there may be women too, a trend that I for one wholeheartedly applaud. Then again, it may be that the customers are neatly-attired (at most, in matching leather suits), drinking coffee and politely discussing current affairs or the contents of Ikea catalogues. And never, ever the scent of chain lube. Ooh no.

Never mind, another myth exploded. Except that at one time the upstairs bar of The Salutation Inn in Nottingham wclearly labeled "Bikers Only", and they'd posted a doorman to make sure the dress code was not violated. That I like.

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