Category Archives: Third Places

Kembridž: Košice’s Great Good Place

Earlier this month, I spent five days in Košice, Slovakia, where I participated in a summer institute hosted by the Technical University of Košice. The institute brought together 27 graduate students from across Europe to explore and develop solutions to some of the most pressing challenges facing contemporary cities. This was my third year taking part in the Institute, whose theme this year was Home: The X-Factor in Future Cities.” As part of my contribution, I delivered a presentation on third places—informal gathering spaces such as cafés, pubs, and community hubs—and their role as a “home away from home” in fostering social connection, belonging, and urban vitality.

Talking about the importance of third places to urban vitality to graduate students in Košice

As this was my third visit to Košice in three years, I was already somewhat familiar with the city, particularly its Old Town, which was just a short walk from my hotel. Dating back to the medieval period, the historic center serves as the heart of modern Košice, its pedestrian streets, cafés, restaurants, and public spaces creating a vibrant atmosphere that attracts both residents and visitors. In my previous visits, I have also discovered several excellent pubs in the Old Town, and re-visiting them is something to which I look forward.

The Old Town in Kosice

One of my favorite places to enjoy a beer in Košice is Kembridž Pub—its name being the Slovakized version of “Cambridge.” Kembridž has grown to be one of the city’s most popular places since it opened in 1963. With its spacious beer garden and relaxed atmosphere, it serves as a gathering place for people from all walks of life, who come to share a beer, catch up with friends, and enjoy the unique sense of community that has defined the pub for generations.

The Kembridž Pub with its beer garden is a favorite place for locals to gather

Indeed, it is the diversity of its clientele that makes Kembridž such a fascinating place. As one writer observed, “Students, pensioners, artists, and intellectuals meet there. Over beer, they debate everything and nothing.” It is this eclectic mix of people and conversations that has helped transform Kembridž from a simple pub into one of Košice’s most enduring social institutions.

My friend and Košice resident, Peter Škripko, describes the Kembeidž as follows:

“Kembeidž is the only beer pub in Košice that has preserved the authentic spirit of what a traditional pub used to be. It’s a place where a university professor, a factory worker, and a highly successful lawyer earning a fortune can all sit together at the same table, sharing a beer and a conversation as equals.”

The site on which Kembridž stands today has a fascinating history. Originally, it was the location of a military swimming pool associated with the Košice Cadet Academy (Kadetka), a Hungarian military academy established in 1856 during the Austro-Hungarian era. Beginning in 1881, the pool was opened to the public and became a popular recreational spot for local residents. Even today, some older Košice residents still refer to the area as “úszoda”—the Hungarian word for “swimming pool”—because – because they remember spending their childhood summers there. During the 1950s, the military gradually lost interest in maintaining the facility, and by the end of the decade the swimming pool had disappeared.

In the years that followed, the site was transformed into a public green space and eventually evolved into the legendary Kembridž pub and beer garden, one of Košice’s most beloved social gathering places. It is an excellent example of what the urban sociologist, Ray Oldenburg, calls a “third place.”

In his book, The Great Good Place, Oldenburg identified several defining characteristics of third places—settings that exist beyond home (the first place) and work (the second place). According to Oldenburg, successful third places are informal gathering spaces where people can come and go freely, without obligations or social pressures. They are inclusive environments that welcome people from all backgrounds and encourage interaction among diverse groups.

Third places are typically located within or near residential neighborhoods, making them easily accessible, often by foot. They tend to be modest and unpretentious rather than overly formal or exclusive. A hallmark of these spaces is the presence of regular patrons who visit frequently and develop a strong sense of attachment and belonging.

Most importantly, third places foster social connection. Conversation serves as the primary activity, with friendly banter, humor, and lighthearted interaction creating a relaxed and enjoyable atmosphere. In this way, third places help build community, strengthen social ties, and provide a setting where people can connect with others outside of their home and workplace.

Others have described third places in terms that are similar to Oldenburg’s, though often with more vivid imagery. Michael Hickey refers to them as the “living room of society,” emphasizing their role as comfortable, welcoming spaces where people gather, relax, and build social connections. Leo Jeffres and his colleagues, meanwhile, describe third places as “centers of community,” highlighting their importance as venues where civic life, social interaction, and a sense of belonging are cultivated.

Enjoying a beer with colleagues at the Kembridž

By either description, Kembridž clearly qualifies. It comes as close to meeting Oldenburg’s criteria for a third place as any establishment I have ever frequented. It is a welcoming, unpretentious gathering place where people from different walks of life come together, form and maintain friendships, and let conversation flow freely. More than simply a pub, Kembridž has long served as a social anchor for its patrons—a true living room of society and a genuine center of community. The afternoon I visited, the beer garden was quiet. A small group of older gentlemen sat together beneath the shade of the overhanging trees, escaping the scorching summer heat and lingering over their drinks. Nearby, a young couple relaxed with their baby, adding to the calm, unhurried atmosphere that made the space feel welcoming and distinctly local. Whether bustling with activity or enjoying a quieter moment, Kembridž is a wonderful place for people-watching, offering the perfect vantage point from which to observe the ebb and flow of everyday life.

Should your travels ever take you to Košice, don’t miss Kembridž. Settle in with a beer, stay awhile, and enjoy one of the city’s great pleasures: watching people come together to talk, laugh, and share each other’s company. In a world that often moves too fast, Kembridž remains a place where community still matters

The Tavern Reborn: Rediscovering America’s Original Third Place

Content Warning: This blog entry includes language and terminology that may be considered offensive by contemporary standards. Such language is presented in its historical context and reflects the norms of the period discussed, not the values of the author.

In February of this year, The Wall Street Journal ran a story on the revival of what was once a quintessential cornerstone of American life: the tavern. Neither a bar nor a restaurant, the tavern occupies what the Journal characterizes as a “gray area” between the two.

The term itself has deep historical roots, deriving from the thirteenth-century French taverne, which in turn comes from the Latin taberna, meaning a shop, stall, or inn. As an institution, the tavern is even older. Archaeological evidence traces its origins to ancient Mesopotamia, where an open-air tavern dating to around 2700 BC has been uncovered. Taverns were also common in ancient Greece and Rome, later becoming a familiar feature of medieval Europe. When European colonists arrived in North America, the tavern quickly took hold there as well, becoming an integral part of early American life.

In colonial America, taverns were places where the community gathered to play games, enjoy entertainment, share news, argue politics, and linger over a beer. Organized activities were a feature at most taverns. These included “dancing, fistfights, and shooting at random indoor targets“, as well as cockfighting. Activities such as these helped define taverns as “places where ordinary people could participate in extraordinary activities.” In many ways, colonial taverns embodied what urban sociologist Ray Oldenburg calls a Third Place – a community gathering spot beyond home and work.

In addition to locals, taverns were equally vital to travelers, serving as places where one could find a bed for the night and food to sustain the journey. They also served as venues for official business; it was not uncommon for both lower and superior court sessions to be held there – the former handling minor criminal offenses and small civil disputes, and the latter addressing more serious criminal cases and larger civil matters.

These early Colonial taverns were called “ordinaries.” They were given this name because they were required to have an annual license called an Ordinary Bond, and the issuing authority had the power to set the price charged for goods and services such as meals and lodging.

The first tavern in colonial America was opened by a Thomas Cole in Boston, MA, on March 4, 1634. Such was the importance of taverns to colonial life that they were among the first to be built when a new settlement was being established.

In her excellent book on the history of taverns, saloons, speakeasies, and grog shops, Christine Sismondo quotes a letter written by Sir Captain John Walduck to his nephew in 1708. It states:

Upon all the new settlements the Spaniards make, the first thing they
do is build a church, the first thing ye Dutch do upon a new colony is to
build them a fort, but the first thing ye English do, be it in the most
remote part of ye world, or amongst the most barbarous Indians, is to
set up a tavern or drinking house
.”

In some cases, the urgency to establish a tavern may have been driven by the threat of financial penalty. In 1656, the General Court of Massachusetts made towns liable to a fine if they failed to maintain a tavern. This policy reflected both a desire to exert oversight over the sale of alcohol and a practical need to provide weary travelers with food and rest. To encourage compliance with this law, many communities offered inducements such as land grants, pasture rights for livestock, or exemptions from school and church taxes to prospective tavern keepers. This carrot-and-stick approach meant that taverns were ubiquitous and plentiful throughout colonial America.

The most popular drinks in colonial taverns were rum, flip, and punch. But what exactly was flip? In Stage-Coach and Tavern Days, Alice Morse Earle offers the following description:

American flip was made in a great pewter mug or earthen pitcher filled two-thirds full of strong beer; sweetened with sugar, molasses, or dried pumpkin, according to individual taste or capabilities; and flavored with “a dash” – about a gill – of New England rum. Into this mixture was thrust and stirred a red-hot loggerhead, made of iron and shaped like a poker, and the seething iron made the liquor foam and bubble and mantle high, and gave it the burnt, bitter taste so dearly loved.

The practice of inserting a red-hot poker into a flip probably has its roots in the 15th-century German tradition of Bierstacheln (“beer spike”). Initially used to warm cold Lagers to a more drinkable temperature, the technique later evolved as a way to caramelize the sugars in darker, malt-forward beers. This process produces a smoother, creamier texture while enhancing flavors and aromas such as caramel and toffee.

The beer consumed by colonial settlers was primarily ale, reflecting the brewing traditions of Great Britain, where ale dominated production and consumption. These ales were either imported or brewed locally in homes and taverns throughout the colonies. Lager beer – and the bottom‑fermenting yeast required to produce it – did not arrive in the United States until the 1840s, when German immigrants introduced new brewing techniques.

With the passage of time, the role of the American tavern changed significantly. As independent hotels and restaurants expanded, taverns gradually lost their broader social and lodging functions, becoming primarily establishments for the sale of alcohol. With this transition, the term “tavern” came to be used interchangeably with “alehouse” or “bar.” In his 1952 study of taverns in Dane County, WI, the sociologist Boyd E. Macrory defined a tavern as “any establishment whose business consists largely of selling and serving intoxicating liquors and/or beer for consumption on the premises.” Despite this narrowing of their function, they remained important gathering spots. Writing as recently as 1982, Ray Oldenburg and Dennis Brisset noted that “the tavern, or bar, is without doubt the dominant third place in our society” (Oldenburg and Brisset 1982, 269).

In the Wall Street Journal article, Joshua Stein describes a modern tavern as a hybrid space that blends elements of both bar and restaurant. His examples – such as the Sergeantsville Inn in Sergeantsville, New Jersey, and the Stissing House in Pine Plains, New York – are places where patrons can enjoy a full meal or simply sit at the bar with a beer or cocktail. What distinguishes these establishments is not just their dual function but their role as community anchors. They cultivate a sense of familiarity and belonging, drawing in regulars who gather – often spontaneously – to socialize and connect. Jacqueline Haut Evans, an artist and real estate agent, captures this spirit in reflecting on her 25 years as a regular at the Sergeantsville Inn: “it doesn’t matter when I come in … I know I’m going to know somebody”.

Seen from a long historical perspective, the recent revival of the American tavern is less a reinvention than a rediscovery. For centuries, taverns have adapted to changing economic conditions and social expectations, shifting from indispensable civic institutions to more narrowly defined drinking establishments. Yet their enduring appeal lies in something deeper than their function: their ability to bring people together. While modern taverns may no longer host court sessions or house weary travelers, their renewed popularity suggests a continued desire for shared spaces that blur the boundaries between commerce and community. In this sense, today’s tavern – like its colonial predecessor – again hints at the power of a “third place,” reminding us that even in a digitized, fragmented world, the need for face-to-face connection remains as strong as ever.

Further Reading:

Earle, Alice Morse. 1900. Stage-coach and Tavern Days. The MacMillan Company.

Sismondo, Christone. 2014. America Walks into a Bar: A Spirited History of Taverns and Saloons, Speakeasies and Grog Shops. Oxford University Press.

Struzinski, Steven. 2002. The tavern in colonial America. The Gettysburg Historical Journal, Volume 1, Article 7