Where were you, Wills?

I never expected the path to the Underworld to feature so much bamboo. Or to have such great cocktails. But if this is hell, I'm going to be very happy there.

Mahiki, named after the mythological Polynesian path to wrongness, has quickly established itself as the party place of choice for young (and not so young) hedonists.

From junior royals to Jade Jagger and Madonna, everyone who is anyone has shimmied among the foliage in the Dover Street tiki bar, so it was high time for my visit, with my glamorous pal Victoria.

As we were shown to a table in the bar, Victoria stated her intention to "pull Wills into a lavatory cubicle while Kate is busy and distracted getting a drink".

Luckily for Miss Middleton, she and the prince are skiing in Zermatt this week - Vics can be very persuasive.

After studying the cocktail menu for a matter of nanoseconds, we decided on the campest looking drinks we could order: a pina colada, served in a large pineapple, and a lethal coconut grenade, which arrived in a coconut - both are under a tenner, so well within our less-than-celebrity budget.

Even though we'd just stepped off the Victoria line, it felt as if we'd been teleported to a tropical beachside bar, albeit one where drinkers were clad in well-cut suits. The co-owner, Nick House, wanted to create a bar that stood apart from the usual same-old, same-old London bar/club. His mission was to make it fun, unpretentious and to "recreate holiday fun and madness".

Sipping cocktails from large, hollowed-out fruit is a great leveller, and there's no VIP area in the two-floor venue, not even for the future king or the queen of pop. They park their royal hides on the same wicker as the rest of us. There's no guest list either, it's free to get in during the week (only £10 after 10pm at the weekend) and the bar prices are similarly enabling.

We had to be up early the next day, so it seemed unwise to explore the cocktail menu further. But, not known for our collective wisdom, we ordered the Neptune's Bounty next, a potent cocktail served in a seemingly bottomless brass diver's helmet (sourced directly from Java, apparently), meant for four to share and a bargain at £50.

"Oooh, I haven't had a group drink since I went on a Club 18-30 holiday," said Victoria as we discarded two of the straws. We stopped short of getting stuck into the Treasure Chest (£100) though, a drink designed for eight and favoured by Prince Harry.

By 11pm, the bar was buzzing - apart from the suits, there were lots of very tall, beautiful girls with manes of swishy hair and short dresses. I couldn't spy a single drinker who'd had in a run-in with the ugly stick, yet the atmosphere isn't intimidating - it's very laid-back and friendly.

We couldn't see any celebrities, but we did bump into an old friend from our university days, who, mercifully, seemed to have forgotten the time that I poured a drink all over his head.

Second round of pineapples in hand, we clattered downstairs to the club, where we marvelled at the iguanas in cages, and the waitresses dressed as Dorothy and the Tin Man serving behind the bar. Quite where the Wizard of Oz theme came from I never figured out.

We did eventually put our drinks down in order to throw some shapes properly on the dancefloor. As with the entire place, the music policy at Mahiki is tongue-in-cheek - soul, pop and classic tunes - a welcome break from the usual dreary R&B we are punished with in other bars. And in a turn-up for the books, the cute DJ even motioned me over to ask for my requests (Dolly Parton's 9 To 5, since you ask) and planted a great big smacker on my lips.

While we couldn't spy any celebrities down in the club either, I did see a bloke who may have been the model Jamie Burke - "It" boy and current love interest of Sienna Miller. But he might just have been another one of the traffic-stoppingly gorgeous young men strewn around the place, all scruffy hair and cheekbones you could grate cheese off.

As we finally dragged our aching legs off the dancefloor and steeled ourselves to leave this enchanted place, Victoria spotted two of the cheek-boned lovelies climbing the stairs above us.

"Oooh, what's up there?" she gasped, wide-eyed. "Um, outside," they replied, and pointed to the large green exit sign. We truly were lost in the Underworld.

Mahiki, 1 Dover Street W1 (020 7493 9529, mahiki.com) Mon-Fri, Sun: 5.30pm-3am; Sat: 6pm-3am; Thu, Fri, Sat: £10 after 10pm

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