Finding this bar is half the fun on your night out on Oxford Street. The only indicator that there is a bar or some sort of licensed establishment is the bouncer out the front of the Soleil tanning salon. It’s not deliberately hidden though, due to licensing problems, Ching-a-lings had to move their entrance from Little Oxford Street to Oxford Street proper.

So after a steep climb, a minimalist, darkly lit interior greets you, with low leather couches, high bar stools, an exposed brick wall and rendered concrete sprayed with images illuminated by an overhanging cage full of old light bulbs. Ching-a-lings exerts an underground ambience of grunge, effortless cool and relaxation.
Before 11pm the shadowy interior is sparse, as everyone sits outside on the open rooftop courtyard with wooden seating for chilling out in and taking advantage of sunny days and balmy nights. 

These guys don’t do cocktails. They don’t do bar food. They don’t have a phone number and they don’t like publicity. They’re unlike other small bars, with a more relaxed take on hospitality. They happily serve longnecks of Coopers or Melbourne Bitter, wine served in tumblers and mixed drinks while playing good old vinyl music to sit back and nod your head to.

If you’re after a lowkey drink with chilled-out locals sharing a beer, turn up early midweek or Sunday evening, otherwise on Saturday evenings you’ll be surrounded by trendzoids...you know, the ones that wear sunglasses indoors. So enjoy late afternoons with a tasty mixer perched on the verandah.