Walk into the vine covered wall, yes, straight into it, like you are on platform 9 and god damn three-quarters, and poof you are inside a truly local place to sip. Pótkulcs looks like a ruin pub, smells like a ruin pub and feels like a ruin pub. Pókulcs is NOT a ruin pub. And thank the dear lord for that. Instead of touristic hordes snapping instagrams like a bunch of zonked out zombies, the walls here are filled with local energy and the constant buzz of Hungarian conversation. Don’t ruin it. Drink (somewhat) responsibly.