The Royal Vauxhall Tavern, the RVT to most, is one of the most versatile and loved venues in all of London gaydom. The scene-OUT team spend far more time there than we ought. It's most famous (or infamous) for Saturday night's Duckie and Sunday afternoon/evening's ChillOut/SLAGS but it also offers a wealth of entertainment options the rest of the week: bingo, cabaret, stand-up comedy. You name it; it'll probably grace this venue at some point.
To avoid the crush of a crowded underground I decided on convenience and ventured only a few hundred yards from my destination station of Kings Cross. I had read about Central Station on their web site and the afternoon Pants event caught my imagination. With some hesitation I approached the large red door for the underground club and wondered if their would be the buzzer and then the embarrassing wait before being let in. My fears were unfounded the door was open and I decended to the basement. To the right was the reception area where I was met by a friendly and informative guy who made it very clear what the club was about. I was given a large zip up bag for my clothes. I stripped naked, apart from footwear, in the changing area to the left of the bar. I deposited my belongings in the bag and handed them in at reception. I re-entered the bar and observed a screen showing gay porn and 'curtained off' areas together with 2 dark rooms. The toilets, which were clean, were situated beyond the changing area. There was a good mixture of around 12-15 guys of all races ages shapes and sizes about half were naked and the rest with jocks, briefs or boxers. Condoms and lubes were readily available and there was a fair amount of action going on mainly in the darkened areas. The overall atmosphere was relaxed and friendly and everybody seemed to express themselves freely without adverse comment or criticism. The overall experience proved to me that there was no need to waste time travelling long distances around the capital to have a good fun time. Read the full review of Pants by smoothboy
No-one does it better than the ladz down in Vauxhall. Fitladz, like it says on the tin, is for er... fit lads, so a strict door policy is the order of the evening.
