Why Dive Bars Might Be the Best Places to Meet People When You Travel Alone

I was sitting at the bar at Arnold's Beach Bar in Waikiki when the woman behind the bar started writing me a list.

Not a list of rooftop bars. Not the places with the prettiest cocktails or the best sunset views. A list of dive bars.

And suddenly I realised something.

I bloody love a dive bar.

Not because they're glamorous — they're usually the exact opposite. But because when I'm travelling alone, they're often the places where I actually meet people.

I'd gone into Arnold's by myself, taken a seat at the bar and before long we were chatting about Waikiki, local history, American football, food, drinks and where else I should go.

Then came the recommendations.

That's exactly the kind of experience I'm looking for when I travel solo.

Why I search for dive bars when I travel alone

I've been thinking about the term dive bar because it's something people actually search for.

“Dive bar near me.”

“Best dive bars in Waikiki.”

“Best local dive bars.”

And there's almost an unspoken understanding about what you're going to find.

It won't necessarily be beautiful.

There may be a few questionable stools. The drinks probably aren't arriving with edible flowers and a cloud of smoke. Nobody has spent six months designing the perfect Instagram wall.

But there's a good chance someone will talk to you.

And when you're travelling alone, that can be worth far more than the view from the latest rooftop bar.

The best seat in the house is usually at the bar

One of the things I've learnt from years of travelling alone is that where you sit matters.

Put me at a table for one in the corner of a restaurant and there's a good chance I'll spend the evening on my phone.

Put me on a stool at the bar and everything changes.

You can talk to the bartender. Someone sits down beside you. You ask what they're drinking. They tell you where they're from. Someone overhears the conversation.

And suddenly you're not really drinking alone anymore.

That's what happened at Arnold's.

I walked in alone. I sat at the bar. I started talking.

And I walked out with a list of places to try.

That's Solo Sips & Bites in a nutshell.

Dive bars aren't really about cheap drinks

I used to think dive bar basically meant a slightly dodgy old bar with cheap drinks.

But I'm starting to think that's missing the point.

The best ones are about community.

Back home in Sydney, one of my favourites is Miss Wolf in Marrickville. It's a small neighbourhood bar with a strong LGBTQ+ community around it, and it's exactly the sort of place where you can walk in alone and end up talking to people.

That's what makes places like this valuable.

They're not designed around people arriving in perfectly organised groups of four.

There are regulars. People sit at the bar. Bartenders know their customers. Conversations cross between stools.

For a solo traveller, that's gold.

Sometimes you aren't looking for a tourist attraction. You're looking for people.

Years ago, on my first trip to San Francisco, someone warned me about where I was staying and frightened the life out of me.

So instead of going exploring, I went downstairs to the hotel bar.

I sat there by myself and ended up talking to a woman from Melbourne.

She told me where to go. Polk Street. Fisherman's Wharf. Places she'd discovered and thought I'd enjoy.

That conversation completely changed my trip.

I ventured out. I caught the cable car. I walked along the waterfront. I found the Buena Vista Cafe and its famous Irish coffees. I wandered through markets and explored parts of San Francisco I probably wouldn't have seen if I'd stayed frightened in my hotel room.

One conversation with a stranger did that.

I've never forgotten it.

And it's probably one of the reasons I keep choosing the bar seat.

Maybe “dive bar near me” really means something else

This is the part I find fascinating.

People search for dive bars when they're travelling.

People search for them when they move somewhere new.

And I wonder whether sometimes what we're actually searching for isn't a particular kind of bar at all.

Maybe we're searching for connection.

Somewhere you can walk through the door without a booking.

Somewhere sitting alone doesn't look strange.

Somewhere the bartender has time to talk.

Somewhere there are regulars.

Somewhere you can ask:

"Where should I go next?"

And someone will actually tell you.

That's exactly what happened to me at Arnold's Beach Bar in Waikiki.

I went in for a drink.

I came out with a list.

My rule for finding a good solo bar

I've written a lot about eating and drinking alone, and my rule remains ridiculously simple:

Sit at the bar.

Don't hide at a table because you think that's where you're supposed to sit.

The bar gives you a reason to interact.

Ask the bartender what they recommend. Ask the person beside you whether they're local. Ask where they'd go for a drink.

You don't have to spend the night desperately trying to make friends with strangers.

Sometimes you'll talk to everyone.

Sometimes you'll talk to nobody.

That's the beauty of travelling alone. You get to decide.

But choosing a place where conversation can happen makes all the difference.

And I've decided I'm adding something new to the way I travel.

Whenever I arrive somewhere:

I'm searching for the dive bar.

Not the most famous one.

Not necessarily the highest-rated one.

The neighbourhood one.

The slightly scruffy one.

The one where the locals are sitting at the bar.

Because increasingly, I think those might be some of the best places in the world to travel alone.

Find somewhere to sit at the bar

Arnold's is now part of my Solo Sips & Bites collection — places I've actually tried myself and would recommend for eating or drinking alone.

→ Explore Arnold's Beach Bar in Solo Sips & Bites

And if you're heading to Honolulu, I'll be adding more of the Waikiki bars I've discovered — including some from that handwritten list.

Because apparently I've got a new travel mission:

Find the dive bar. Take a stool. See who you meet.