Caravan

I truly believe this is the worst bar in Arizona, maybe the Southwest. It’s soul-​killingly bare and soaked in ammonia fumes. The warm clutter of the former Ivan’s Caravan has been replaced with an uneven formica bar top, stripped concrete walls, linoleum floors and all the ambiance of a jail cell. The bartender told me they don’t provide toilet paper in the bathrooms anymore because the clientele kept stealing it. Ouch, my soul hurts.

Looks like they re-​arranged behind the bar. Now all of the bottles are compressed into one small section, and appear to be a little more full. Now, they other half is populated with many, many, many jars of peanuts.

The February 2011 issue of Phoenix Magazine featured an article about local artist Joerael Elliott and it featured a Native American themed mural he painted on the front of this local watering hole. I wanted to see this for myself so I ventured out with a friend to 15^th Ave & Camelback to take a look, snap a few pictures and wet my whistle.
Caravan is the epitome dive bar. Golden Tee ’07 and a Soprano’s pinball machine are the most modern aspects of this place. It seems like that type of place that serves the same devoted few over and over. The crowd was Native American and I assume most of the regulars are (that may be why the mural is here). Two pints of the finest Pabst Blue Ribbon can be had for a mere $ 5 and served by the pretty gal behind the bar. This is my kind of place. Caravan is the kind of place that will turn many off because it’s not flashy or because the beer selection isn’t impressive but that is what I love. This place is a must for fans of dive bars. I wish it was closer. Luckily there’s easy light rail access.