Soho: so over

There was a time when it was said that you could take a seat outside any cafe in Soho and, before long, you would see the entire world pass by. It was the magnetic centre of the universe, a true melting pot. Even though restaurateurs and style bar proprietors began to flood the area in the early Nineties, total gentrification was slowed by the sex shops and girlie bars that are an integral part of the community.

In the good old days, Soho had two distinct followers: Londoners from local media houses would fill its bars during the week, leaving the way clear for the bridge-and-tunnel brigade at weekends.

Does anybody remember Riki Tik? For a second, it was the place to be in the mid-to-late Nineties. Burly men would police the door, and London's most fashionable folk (this is in the pre-Shoreditch days) would join the long queues outside. Quentin Tarantino was famously refused entry here when he fell foul of its 'no suits' policy.

Riki Tik decamped to Clerkenwell and renamed itself LED before eventually finding oblivion. Today, after several unsuccessful incarnations, Riki Tik's Soho site is home to Thirst - a scarily modern place with stark white decor and just a few tables and stools on the ground floor, and no furniture at all in the basement. It's so brightly lit, you can almost see it with the naked eye from Todmorden.

I sat waiting for my friends with just one other soul in the bar. We exchanged the occasional glance - the situation should have generated some sort of camaraderie, like prisoners sharing a cell. The passing world outside stopped to stare, occasionally shedding pitying looks at our plight.

The bar was offering cocktails at £3.50 until midnight, and then for a fiver until 3am. Perhaps the best time to go is after midnight, when pretty much all else is closed. Yes, that's what I'll do, I'll go back again when there are even fewer people around.

Thirst has a food menu. The sushi plates, it says helpfully, are supplied by Hi Sushi, and the paninis by San Valentino, also on Greek Street. Helpful of them to suggest going somewhere else. And I did - to the Soho Bar opposite.

I take no pleasure in seeing the beginning of the end of a venue - I'd rather just see the end and be done with it. There was a time when you could open a cardboard box round these parts and it would fill with punters eager to spend their cash. But Soho is so over, I'm afraid.

Thirst
53 Greek Street, W1D 3DR