The Seahorse sucks

The Seahorse tavern, Halifax, Nova Scotia

Here I am on the steps leading down to the former heavyweight best bar in the world. It used to be dark, with a heavy fog of cigarette smoke and some combination of AC-DC, Zeppelin or Guns N’ Roses blaring on the speakers. You’d walk in on a Friday night and know everyone in the room. Pints were $2.50 until 11 pm and they’d let you buy enough to cover the long, carved-up tables and church pews that made for seating.

Now it’s prettied up with plush booths, fancy lighting and a new kitchen. No more loud metal, because they’re trying to make it into a live music venue. It’s even got a dance floor dug into the floor where our table used to be. The City of Halifax’s clean air bylaw killed the smoking, but Victor Syperek did the rest. His attempt to recreate downtown nightlife according to his version of cool was alright in the ’90s, but he should have stopped with the Economy Shoe Shop.

Now I’ve got to find a new favourite pub, or stop coming to Halifax altogether. Maybe I’ll give Tom’s Little Havana a shot.

I’ll miss you Seahorse. RIP good buddy.

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