Goja

Goya is a really cool bar with a great vibe. They offer a wide selection of drinks, so there’s definitely something for everyone. It’s also a fantastic place to dance – the DJ plays amazing music and really creates a great atmosphere. The overall vibe is warm and welcoming. The staff is friendly, and even the owner makes you feel genuinely welcome. I had a wonderful evening there. As a woman going out alone, I felt completely safe and comfortable the entire time. It’s a place where you can truly relax and enjoy yourself. I would definitely come back.

Best place for music, local vibes, friendly people. And cocktails 10/10

a friend recommended I visit here while in Bangkok. great cosy vibe, delicious cocktails and there were a couple Japanese and Thai selecta’s playing great reggae and dub. next time we’re in town we’re definitely coming back!

After humoring my wife’s desire for a photo with the now-famous jellyfish installation, my only wish was to slip away from that place. Aside from the pulsating jellyfish that beckoned crowds to pose beneath its glow, nothing there left a lasting impression. The city’s panorama unfolded beneath us, but to my eyes, every urban skyline at night blurs into the same “city night vibe”—a tapestry of lights best admired in quiet solitude for twenty minutes, or in a throng, for barely two. The DJ spun a soundtrack so relentlessly generic—remixed hits from the past decade—that it faded into the background hum. Most people seemed locked in a ritual of taking selfies and swaying, listlessly, to the music. Craving escape, I opened Google Maps and searched for a way out. Amid a sea of red pins, Goja Bar caught my eye—low profile, a touch of character. The ratings were high, but the photos, few. I hesitated for a moment, then called my wife to propose a change of venue for our evening. The bar itself was smaller than I’d imagined. The awning outside sheltered a handful of seats on either side—one beside a well-used ashtray and trash bin, the other with a modest table. Inside, the space was scarcely larger than a dorm room: a single bar counter, a DJ booth, two tables. When we entered, two small groups occupied the space. At the bar, three local women, dressed in work attire, chatted quietly and cheerfully. As we arrived, they slipped out—later I realized, just to smoke. In the corner, on a worn sofa, two men—one European, one Asian—giggled quietly to themselves. Behind the bar stood two attendants, one woman, one man. I could not tell if either was the owner, or if both were, or neither. They radiated the relaxed, easy confidence of people at home in their domain. The DJ played a funky set tinged with disco. I ordered two oolong hai; after all, we weren’t there to get drunk. But of course, I had to sample the local herbs. I ordered a pre-rolled joint. When I asked the woman at the bar where to smoke, she directed me to a small patio beside the building. I hadn’t noticed it before—just to the left, pressed up against the bar’s wall, a slender corridor with a white iron gate, transformed into a pocket garden with a white-painted metal table and chairs. A miniature Eden. I lit up. Immediately, the atmosphere softened as I slipped back into the bar. I chatted with my wife, our conversation carried along by the buoyant rhythms of funk. We laughed at our own silly jokes, lost in our own small world. She asked if I was high yet. I told her, oh yes, I was. The other patrons drifted in and out, as if woven into the evening’s rhythm. Around 11 o’clock, the air changed a little—a new group entered. Five women, clearly regulars, greeted the bartender and DJ with easy familiarity. Their outfits ran the gamut: one in a strapless party dress, another still in office wear, another in T-shirt and jeans. Together, they radiated a noisy, joyful camaraderie. They didn’t bother sitting, but ordered drinks and gathered before the DJ, dancing, teasing, reveling in each other’s company. My wife and I, amused, paused our conversation to watch. The group paid us no mind, as if we were invisible. Another half hour slipped by. The street outside grew busier—just as we decided to call a taxi and retreat to our hotel. After all, with just the two of us, the night could only stretch so far. Bangkok, perhaps, is not a city for romance. But Goja Bar? I’ll return—drink more, smoke more, with more friends beside me.

Tiny good mood bar with a DJ and music. Paid 200 baht Entry fee then you can chill. Lemon beer is highly recommended 🍋 They also serve joint 🚬🌿