The Northern Quarter’s all-new Ego Death is not the kind of place you just stumble into, it’s the kind of place you need to know about it in advance and hunt it out. For starters, you get to it through the store cupboard of a fast food restaurant, stepping over mop buckets and cardboard boxes. It’s straight out of the PDT playbook, aka Please Don’t Tell, the revered New York City cocktail bar, hidden behind a phone booth in an East Village hot dog joint.

Behind Closed Doors is not your typical bar, still not completely certain of what you are about to experience. The dimmed lighting and tight corners evoke privacy in an underground den of debauchery and indulgence.

Serving Manchester’s music lovers for nigh on 35 years, Corbieres has a place in the heart of many a Mancunian. Including no less than Oasis and Mick Hucknall, all of whom used to drink down there back in the dark, pre-boom days before every spare building boasted its very own fly-by-night “pop-up” bar. Stick to the tried and tested and check out this dark little hideaway, famed for its unshowy atmosphere and laidback staff. Go for the drinks, stay for the legendary jukebox.

There’s nothing more secretive than The Washhouse. Nothing about it, from the frontage to the website, suggests it’s a bar. But it is. It’s not a laundrette, it’s a bar. Sorry guys. Your only chance of entry comes from tracking down the phone number to book a machine (aka, a table). Bit too much hassle? Maybe, but you’ll be missing out on some wonderful cocktails in this cosy enigmatic space.

One of the few exceptions to the rowdy Northern Quarter bar scene, Dusk Til Pawn masquerades as a – how did you guess? – pawn shop, complete with deceptive items in the window. Don’t be fooled by those crafty decoys, it’s actually a fairly genteel cocktail bar, with a vintage feel. Think mahogany and well-worn leather, with a classic drinks menu.

Probably the most well-known secret bar in the city (due, in no small part, to their mention on the 2008 Elbow single Grounds For Divorce).  You haven’t experienced true Manchester unless you’ve squeezed your way down here and recoiled in horror at the appalling state of the toilets. And indeed, this fantastic little bar – spread your arms out and you might be able to touch both sides at once – used to be public toilets once upon a time. Don’t be put off, just see it as an example of the ingenuity and entrepreneurial spirit of Manchester (complete with a soupçon of grottiness).