Let me repeat that slowly for those at the back still sipping lukewarm lager from a can: A beer fountain. In a public park. Flowing not with water, but with glorious, hoppy, golden nectar straight from the taps of local Slovenian breweries. Žalec, you beautiful, boozy genius.
Why every town on Earth hasn’t adopted this idea is beyond me. Libraries? Nice. Museums? Great. But a communal beer-dispensing installation in the local park? Now that’s culture.
They call it the Green Gold Beer Fountain, which sounds like something a leprechaun might bathe in, but it’s actually a tribute to the hops that grow in abundance in this region. The Styrian region of Slovenia has been growing hops since the Middle Ages, and Žalec, the self-proclaimed hop capital, thought: “You know what this history needs? A public drinking installation.”
You pay a few euros for this specially designed glass with a built-in chip (because it’s 2025 and even your pint glass is smarter than you), and you get six pours of different local brews straight from the futuristic beer taps poking out of polished steel columns. It’s like a high-tech pagan shrine dedicated to lager. I bow.
First pour: a crisp pilsner that makes my tastebuds do a little jig. Second: a punchy IPA that drops a hop bomb bigger than David Hasslehoff! I’m only two drinks in and already questioning everything I know about urban planning (in all honesty I don’t know much). Why do we have public fountains spitting out chlorinated water when they could be gently burping out craft beer instead?
The locals stroll past like this is the most normal thing in the world. There’s a pensioner reading a newspaper on a bench while a couple in matching Lycra refill their glasses post-bike ride. A man walks his dog with one hand and pulls a lager with the other.
“Respect!” I say, raising my glass to cheers him. He gives me a look as if to say “another overexcited tourist.”
Of course, I try them all. One beer has hints of caramel and smoke. Another is so light and citrusy I swear I hear tropical birds chirping in my ears. This isn’t just a gimmick, it’s seriously good beer. By my fourth pour, I’m contemplating buying real estate in Žalec. By the fifth, I’ve decided to start a grassroots movement to install beer fountains in every city back home. Imagine knocking off work on a Friday, strolling into the city square, tapping your glass to a gleaming steel column, and pouring a fresh lager straight into your soul. Heaven. Urban bliss. Social cohesion, one pour at a time.
By my sixth (and tragically final) beer, I’m genuinely emotional. I mean, sure, Paris has the Eiffel Tower, Sydney has the Opera House, and New York has almost everything (I love New York), but Žalec? Žalec has a beer fountain, and frankly, it wins. Every town deserves this. Every town needs this. Forget potholes and traffic congestion—give the people what they want: beer on tap in the heart of the city. A place to gather, to taste, to toast, and to tell your mates, “You’ll never believe what I found in Slovenia…”
And then, with a sly grin and a clink of your chipped-glass goblet, you tell them: “It was a beer fountain.”
Deep beneath the streets of London lies a vast warren of tunnels that have seen more drama than a West End soap opera. Originally built during World War II as air-raid shelters, because getting bombed from above was very inconvenient, these tunnels quickly pivoted into something far more James Bond-esque.
They became the HQ for the Special Operations Executive, the ultra-secret wartime group responsible for all sorts of sneaky espionage. Later, the tunnels were used as a Cold War telephone exchange, featuring a direct hotline between the White House and the Kremlin; nothing says “world peace” like a little subterranean chit-chat.
Now, after decades of being forgotten like an old pair of socks behind the sofa, these tunnels are finally getting their glow-up. Soon, they’ll be transformed into London’s newest must-see attraction, complete with immersive historical exhibits, high-tech digital experiences, and – wait for it – an underground bar. C’mon, who doesn’t want to learn about history and sip a cocktail at the same time? Especially when it’s 30 metres below street level.
This attraction is the perfect chance to explore a part of London that’s been off-limits for years, and let’s be honest – who doesn’t want to feel like a spy creeping through secret tunnels?
So, whether you’re a history buff, a thrill-seeker, or just someone who likes their drinks served in ridiculously cool locations, the London Tunnels are about to become the place to be…in 2028.
I’m standing in the middle of a Slovenian town, holding a sleek little glass with a microchip in it, and I’ve just poured myself a beer, from a fountain. Let me repeat that slowly for those at the back still sipping lukewarm lager from a can: A beer fountain. In a public park. Flowing not with water, but with glorious, hoppy, golden nectar straight from the taps of local Slovenian breweries. Žalec, you beautiful, boozy genius.
Why every town on Earth hasn’t adopted this idea is beyond me. Libraries? Nice. Museums? Great. But a communal beer-dispensing installation in the local park? Now that’s culture.
They call it the Green Gold Beer Fountain, which sounds like something a leprechaun might bathe in, but it’s actually a tribute to the hops that grow in abundance in this region. The Styrian region of Slovenia has been growing hops since the Middle Ages, and Žalec, the self-proclaimed hop capital, thought: “You know what this history needs? A public drinking installation.”
You pay a few euros for this specially designed glass with a built-in chip (because it’s 2025 and even your pint glass is smarter than you), and you get six pours of different local brews straight from the futuristic beer taps poking out of polished steel columns. It’s like a high-tech pagan shrine dedicated to lager. I bow.
First pour: a crisp pilsner that makes my tastebuds do a little jig. Second: a punchy IPA that drops a hop bomb bigger than David Hasslehoff! I’m only two drinks in and already questioning everything I know about urban planning (in all honesty I don’t know much). Why do we have public fountains spitting out chlorinated water when they could be gently burping out craft beer instead?
The locals stroll past like this is the most normal thing in the world. There’s a pensioner reading a newspaper on a bench while a couple in matching Lycra refill their glasses post-bike ride. A man walks his dog with one hand and pulls a lager with the other.
“Respect!” I say, raising my glass to cheers him. He gives me a look as if to say “another overexcited tourist.”
Of course, I try them all. One beer has hints of caramel and smoke. Another is so light and citrusy I swear I hear tropical birds chirping in my ears. This isn’t just a gimmick, it’s seriously good beer. By my fourth pour, I’m contemplating buying real estate in Žalec. By the fifth, I’ve decided to start a grassroots movement to install beer fountains in every city back home. Imagine knocking off work on a Friday, strolling into the city square, tapping your glass to a gleaming steel column, and pouring a fresh lager straight into your soul. Heaven. Urban bliss. Social cohesion, one pour at a time.
By my sixth (and tragically final) beer, I’m genuinely emotional. I mean, sure, Paris has the Eiffel Tower, Sydney has the Opera House, and New York has almost everything (I love New York), but Žalec? Žalec has a beer fountain, and frankly, it wins. Every town deserves this. Every town needs this. Forget potholes and traffic congestion—give the people what they want: beer on tap in the heart of the city. A place to gather, to taste, to toast, and to tell your mates, “You’ll never believe what I found in Slovenia…”
And then, with a sly grin and a clink of your chipped-glass goblet, you tell them: “It was a beer fountain.”
Ever fancied zip-lining over a glacier like a caffeinated Arctic tern? Well, Ice Pic Journeys has just the adrenaline cocktail for you with their Glacier Zip Line + Ice Cave Adventure. It’s the world’s first and only glacier zip line, because why not combine icy thrills with gravity-defying antics?
Your escapade begins at the Glacier Lagoon parking lot in Vatnajökull National Park. After meeting your guide (who’s almost definitely part sherpa, part photographer) you’ll hop into a 4×4 vehicle that laughs in the face of paved roads. A 20-30 minute bumpy ride later, you’ll arrive at the glacier’s edge, ready to channel your inner explorer.
But first up, the Crystal Ice Cave; Iceland’s largest and bluest naturally formed glacier cave. Imagine walking into a sapphire where the walls are so blue, even your Instagram filters will feel redundant. You’ll spend about an hour here, marvelling at nature’s frozen architecture and posing for photos that will make your friends question why they’re not here with you.
Then, it’s time for the main event: the Glacier Zip Line. Strap in and prepare to soar across the glacier, over a vertical ice cave (fancy term: moulin), with panoramic views that scream “I’m thriving in 2025!” Feel the wind in your face as you glide above the frozen expanse, but be warned, absolutely nothing you do from this point forward will ever compare, even just a tiny bit, to this feeling.
So, if you’re looking to add a frosty feather to your adventure cap, Ice Pic Journeys has got you covered, just don’t forget to bring your bravado and maybe an extra pair of thermal socks.
Fancy dining with a chef so tiny, he could sauté a single pea in a thimble? This is Le Petit Chef at The London Cabaret Club, where your dinner companion stands a whopping 6 centimetres tall (proof that size doesn’t matter, especially in the kitchen).
Born in Marseille in 2015, this minuscule maestro has been wowing taste buds worldwide with his exceptional French cuisine. But don’t let his stature fool you; Le Petit Chef brings big flavours and an even bigger personality to your plate.
Using 3D projection mapping, this bite-sized buddy is projected onto your table, embarking on culinary escapades that would make even Gordon Ramsay blush. Watch in amusement as he battles lobsters and plays whack-a-mole with pesky intruders. It’s dinner theatre meets tech wizardry, with a dash of “Honey, I Shrunk the Chef.”
As you chuckle at his antics, your real-life courses arrive, mirroring the tiny chef’s virtual creations. Opt for Le Petit Chef & Friends Premium menu, and you’ll indulge in a four-course feast featuring delights like a basil and tomato salad, lobster ravioli, succulent beef tenderloin, and a matcha cheesecake that’ll have your tastebuds begging for more. And if you’re a vego, no problem. There’s a menu for you too, because even tiny chefs know the importance of inclusivity.
Put aside everything you thought you knew about a typical restaurant experience because this is definitely not that. It’s an immersive culinary adventure that combines art, technology, and a sprinkle of mischief.
So, if you’re ready to be entertained by the world’s smallest chef with the world’s biggest ego, book your table at the London Cabaret Club. Just be prepared to share the spotlight – and maybe your dessert – with a chef who proves that great things come in the finest of packages.
You don’t have to be a rocket scientist to figure out how to get into space – Zephalto’s done it for you. But you do have to have a looooot of money (we’re talking AU$280,000 per flight kinda money).
Founded by a bunch of forward-thinking folks who decided, “Hey, why not ditch the traditional spacesuit and board a glorified hot air balloon for a stratospheric adventure?”, this company is all about making space travel more accessible (for the wealthy), but with a twist of elegance and a dash of whimsy.
Forget the claustrophobic cabin of a spaceship. Zephalto’s Celeste experience lets you gently float to the edge of space, sipping champagne while the Earth shrinks beneath you.
Like, imagine casually gliding up to 25 kilometres above the Earth for a second, and marvelling at a view so stunning that even your Instagram feed will look weak in comparison. Other people have to spend years in school to learn how to do this stuff, and all you have to do is sell a kidney.
The view is like your own personal Instagram filter, but better because it’s real. You’ll feel weightless, see the curvature of the Earth, and come back with a story so epic that it’ll make your friends’ overseas holidays look like a weekend getaway spent camping.
Zephalto’s Celeste isn’t just for thrill-seekers; it’s for anyone who wants a taste of space with none of the rocket-fuelled chaos. So, why not ditch the regular skydiving and try the ultimate high? The only thing more ridiculous than the idea is how amazing it actually is.
Alert the polar bears and grey wolves, the Hotel of Ice in the Transylvania region of Romania is back for the 2025 season, and this year, it’s hitting all the right notes with a musical theme.
Each of the 12 igloo rooms is dedicated to a legendary composer or conductor, from Beethoven to Mozart, with ice sculptures and bas-reliefs that bring their musical genius to life. It’s like spending the night inside a symphony but, like, with more frost and fewer sheet music.
Getting there is one of the coolest (literally) things about it; it’s just a casual cable car ride over 2,000 metres up in the Făgăraș Mountains. It’s not for the faint of heart (or for those who are even remotely scared of heights), but if you’ve ever wanted to feel like a true adventurer – this is your ticket. No shuttle buses here, just an icy journey to your cool destination.
And once you arrive, you’ll be greeted by all the icy wonders of the hotel, with features that include a cosy restaurant and a bar, both carved entirely from ice. You’ll dine on reimagined ancient Transylvanian dishes served on ice plates and sip cocktails at the Sub-Zero Ice Bar.
Staying here might seem a little crazy – especially for those of us who hate the cold – but when are you ever going to get the chance to sleep in a room dedicated to your favourite composer, eat food on ice, and drink at a bar where the glasses freeze your hand (wear gloves)?
It’s truly an experience like no other, blending art, music, and the chill of Transylvania’s finest icy peaks together to make all of your frosty dreams come true.
Fancy throwing a party where the guest list includes 120 of your closest friends and a few curious fish (and maybe a whale or two)? This is where U-Boat Worx’s UWEP comes in; the underwater entertainment platform that’s here to make your wildest aquatic party dreams come true.
This 115 foot marvel offers a whopping 1,600 square feet of customisable space, perfect for whatever celebration you’ve got coming up. It also boasts Michelin-starred underwater dining. A casino where the stakes are as deep as the ocean. A wedding venue that guarantees no on will object, mainly because everyone’ll be too busy gawking at the marine life, but that’s besides the point.
And just when you thought there couldn’t possibly be more, of course there is. The UWEP isn’t just about looking good; it’s got the stamina to match thanks to its 1,200kWh battery system. Which means the party can last for up to 18 hours at depths of 150 metres (mind = blown).
But you don’t have to spend all of your time under the water’s surface, as this submarine/coolest-thing-we’ve-ever-seen comes with an 85-square-metre sundeck (complete with safety railings), so you can catch the golden rays of sunset before diving back into the deep blue.
We’re not going to sugarcoat this: silent discos are a vibe. They’re the perfect mix of low-key coolness and ‘I’ll do my own thing’ rebellion. You can say goodbye to thumping bass shaking your very core; these parties let you DJ your way with headphones that pump tunes straight into your ears. No one else can hear the beat, but you’re all dancing like it’s 1999 – in complete silence. Okay, it’s waaaay more fun than it sounds.
Now, let’s talk about where these silent discos happen because that’s the real incentive to buy tickets. From shakin’ it inside the Melbourne Museum (Nocturnal, happening on Thurs 13th Feb) to bopping to the beat in St Edmundsbury Cathedral, silent discos in incredible places have popped up in the wildest, most beautiful spots across the globe.
Each disco even has an era – think 80s, 90s, and the 00s (put Britney on stat). Seriously, these discos are the coolest way to party these days because 1) you don’t need to worry about losing your voice, and 2) you don’t need to worry about looking silly because guess what? You can’t hear yourself, and no one else can hear you either. It’s totally a win/win.
And, if we could just lean into our knowledge of the 00s here for a second, you can act like Hannah Montana with the best of both worlds: the magic of some seriously epic locations and the freedom to dance like nobody’s watching. Which, let’s face it, is usually for the best.
No, it wasn’t sent straight from heaven, but London’s hottest bar Engel may as well have been thanks to their crafty cocktails that are so good, they’ll have you seeing those pearly white gates. But saying these mini masterpieces are just drinks would be an understatement of the century.
Case in point; the Der Prinz Von Berlin, a cocktail as eccentric and bold as its namesake, the eaglet 20th-century German artist George Grosz. This guy wasn’t just an artist; he was the artistic equivalent of a mic drop.
A Dada man with a taste for satire and a paintbrush aimed squarely at social injustice, Grosz fought corruption not with his fists, but with canvases that screamed louder than any politician. He was quickly given the nickname ‘Der Prinz Von Berlin’.
Engel’s bottled that rebellious energy and come up with a concoction that’s liquid rebellion, shaking up a blend as daring as Grosz’s brushstrokes. The cocktail practically struts over to your table, oozing rizz and creative flair – think smoky undertones, a zing of unexpected sharpness (from the lemon verbena infused vodka) and a whisper of sweetness that keeps your tastebuds coming back for more.
But, if all of that sweetness is a little too much for you, you can change the cocktail’s flavour profile. How you ask? The cocktail is served with its very own paintbrush and colour palette, and each colour on that palette is a different flavour. Meaning you can brush different colours (flavours) onto the lip of your glass if you want to add a touch more citrus or an extra dash of the sugary stuff.
Who wants to go back to basics when you can be a Prinz for the night?
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