Alexandra Palace Darts Bag Policy

Your Darts, Your Bag, Your Palace: The Ally Pally Bag Policy Explained

So, you’re going to the PDC World Darts Championship. The roar of the crowd, the smell of beer, the thud of a 180. But first, you have to get through the door. That’s where the Alexandra Palace Bag Policy comes in. It’s the real unsung hero of the evening.

Let’s get straight to the point: no big bags. The official rule is bags must be smaller than an A4 piece of paper. Think of it as a darts-themed suitcase challenge. Your bag must be a compact champion, not a bloated challenger.

Why the fuss? It’s all about speed and safety. Thousands of fans flood the Palace. Security needs to check you fast so you can grab your pint and scream for MVG. Nobody wants to watch a bag search when a nine-darter might be happening inside.

Here is the quirky part. You can bring a clear plastic bag no bigger than 30cm x 20cm. That’s the VIP pass for your stuff. A fanny pack? Perfect. A tiny crossbody? Go for it. A massive rucksack that you used for a weekend camping trip? Nope. Leave it at the hotel or face the cloakroom queue from hell.

The cloakroom exists, but it’s a gamble. Imagine fighting your way back through a sea of fancy-dress darts fans just to retrieve your coat. It's a sport in itself. Trust me, you’d rather have nothing to retrieve.

What about the darts themselves? Can you bring your own tungsten arrows? This is where it gets fun. Technically, you can bring darts in your pocket, but security might ask to see them. Don’t wave them around like a trophy. Keep them calm. Or better yet, buy a set from the merch stand—that’s a souvenir and a prop.

Pro tip: wear cargo pants with deep pockets. You can smuggle in a scarf, a phone charger, and your dignity. Just don’t try to smuggle in a 500ml bottle of water. They’ll make you pour it out. It’s a dry zone for liquids—except for the £7 pints inside. That’s the capitalism of darts.

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Here’s a funny detail from the official rules: no “professional video cameras” are allowed. So leave your cinema-grade lens at home. The only action shot you’re taking is a blurry photo of a dartboard from row Z. And that’s exactly how it should be.

What about fancy dress? You can wear a giant dart costume, but your bag must still be small. Let that sink in. You can be a walking double-top, but your bag is still A4 size. Priorities, right?

The bag policy is really a mindset. It forces you to travel light. You arrive like a minimalist monk, ready to worship at the altar of oche. No distractions. Just you, your ticket, and a tiny bag holding your lucky 26-score face.

So, next time you pack for Ally Pally, ask yourself: “Would this bag survive a trip down the bullseye?” If it’s bigger than a dartboard, leave it at home. Play the game right. Your future self—the one queuing for a hot dog—will thank you.

Now go. Grab your clearance bag. Yell “ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY!” And enjoy the chaos. The bag policy is just the first dart you have to throw. And you just hit double-top.