Park End

Sometimes it's ok to like things that are shit, how else would we explain the recent renewed obsession with Peter Andre? Or maybe it's because we can't understand how that minger Jordan can fancy him and his pigeon legs and fake pecs. Insania, eh? Park End is a similar kettle of fish – huge and unashamedly cheesy, and yes, the floors are sticky. But the crowds love it, and keep coming back like girl guides drawn to a campfire. This is somewhere to come if you're 'up for it' and don't care if you're pashmina gets trodden on and covered in cheap vodka. There is an R'n'B room for when Chesney Hawkes' 'I am the one and only' is all too much, and the drinks are a good bit cheaper than many Oxford venues.

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