The Hague drinks in brown bars and on packed squares rather than in flashy clubs. Learn the borrel, respect the beer’s foam head, sip jenever without lifting the glass, split the bill, and head to Grote Markt for noise, Plein for suits and Scheveningen for sea air with your pils.
The Hague doesn’t put on a show for tourists the way Amsterdam does. It drinks like a city that clocks off at six, still wears its work shirt to the bar, and argues about football and foreign policy in the same breath (this is, after all, the city of embassies and the International Criminal Court). Here’s how to fit in, glass in hand, without looking like you wandered off a canal cruise.
The Borrel: Understand This Word or Understand Nothing
The whole culture rotates around one word: borrel. It means an informal drink, usually after work, usually beer or jenever, usually with bittergarnituur: a plate of bitterballen, cheese cubes and little fried things that arrive whether you ordered them or not, because someone in the group always does. A borrel is a Tuesday, not a big night out. Dutch colleagues will invite you to “een borretje” and mean exactly one, maybe two drinks before everyone cycles home. Don’t mistake it for the start of a bender. If you keep ordering rounds at 9pm expecting the group to still be there, you’ll be drinking alone by 9:30. The Hague, being a government town, runs its borrels with genuine punctuality.
Brown Bars Are the Real Living Rooms
The bruine kroeg (brown café) is the backbone of Dutch bar culture, named for decades of tobacco-stained wood and low amber light. Smoking indoors has been banned for years, but the colour stuck. The Hague has a proper cluster of these around the Denneweg and tucked into the older streets near the Grote Markt. They’re unpretentious: small tables, a stack of newspapers nobody reads, a barman who’s worked there since before you were born. A pils (usually Heineken, Amstel or Grolsch on tap) runs roughly €3–4, served in the classic small glass with a two-finger head of foam that Dutch drinkers take seriously. Order a beer with a thin head and a Dutch friend will visibly wince. Nobody here is after a photo for Instagram. Sit down, order in Dutch if you can manage it, and don’t rush.
Grote Markt and Plein: Two Very Different Nights
The Grote Markt is where The Hague goes loud: a square ringed with bars and terraces that fills with students, twenty-somethings and match-day football crowds. Think beer towers, karaoke nights, and terraces that spill drinkers onto the cobbles from spring through early autumn. Expect it lively, a bit chaotic on weekends, and cheaper than you’d guess for a city-centre square.
The Plein, a short walk away near the Binnenhof, belongs to the after-work crowd. Suits and lanyards from the ministries loosen their collars, and EU and NGO types debate something over a glass of wine. It has a slightly older, more monied hum. Both squares are generally safe, well-lit and patrolled, but they attract very different tribes, so know which one you’re dressing for.
Jenever: Drink It Like You Mean It
You can’t write honestly about Dutch drinking without jenever, the juniper spirit that predates gin and still gets poured with total seriousness in proeflokalen (tasting houses). It’s often served in a tulip-shaped glass filled to the very brim, and the correct move is to bend at the waist and take the first sip before lifting the glass, hands staying on the bar. Order it oud (old, smoother, slightly aged) or jong (young, sharper) depending on your mood, and don’t ask for it mixed unless you want a raised eyebrow. A shot typically runs €3–5. The Hague doesn’t have the dense spread of proeflokalen you’ll find in Amsterdam or Schiedam, but a few older brown bars keep a serious jenever list, and it’s worth asking the barman what he’d pour himself.
The Rules Nobody Tells Tourists
- Rounds aren’t automatic. Dutch drinking culture is famously split-the-bill and pay-as-you-go, so don’t assume someone’s buying the table. “Ieder betaalt voor zichzelf” (everyone pays for themselves) is the default setting and carries no rudeness.
- Tipping is light. Round up or leave 5–10%, not American-style 20%. Bar staff aren’t expecting it and won’t chase you for it.
- Terraces are sacred in summer. The moment the sun comes out, every square and canal-side spot fills with drinkers who will happily sit in a light drizzle rather than go inside. Join them: it’s the most local thing you can do.
- Last orders come early by London or Berlin standards. Many neighbourhood bars wind down by 1am on weeknights. The real late nights concentrate around Grote Markt and the club streets, not the brown bars.
- “Doe mij er nog een” (get me another one) said quietly to the bartender goes further than waving a card around. Calm gets served faster than loud.
Scheveningen: Beer With Sea Air
If a scenic pint sounds better than a packed bar, make your way to Scheveningen, the beach quarter of The Hague. The bars along the boulevard are all about sunset pils and seafood. Order a beer alongside a plate of fresh herring or kibbeling and watch the North Sea doing its grey, moody, gorgeous thing. It draws more tourists than the brown bars in the city centre, and prices creep up a bit (€4–5 for a beer isn’t unusual right on the boulevard), but on a clear evening it’s worth every euro.
The Mistake Tourists Always Make
Assuming The Hague is just a calmer Amsterdam, and turning up expecting the same anonymous, anything-goes bar crawl, won’t get you far. This city runs on civil servants, diplomats and long-term locals who greet their barman by first name, and the bars here reward familiarity over showing off. Sit down properly, order without fuss, give the foam time to settle, and you’ll end up drinking better here than in nearly any other city in the country.