It has been more than a month since I stepped into a nightclub and yes, I admit I sorely miss the strobe lights and the thumping music that leaves my ears ringing at the end of the night.

I also miss bumping into familiar faces - even the ones I would rather not see - on the dance floor, and the cursory - and shouty - conversations that follow.

I even miss the dodging of accidental drink spillage as I weave my way through the crowd to get another drink at the bar, and the sweet, sweet relief of kicking off my heels when the night is over.

By the way, these are telltale signs of a good night out, which is now off the cards since bars and clubs are closed. It could be months before they reopen.

Instead, DJs, music festivals and even the experience of sitting in a bar have moved online to livestreams and video conferencing. The format may be different, but the party does not stop.

One Friday night, I party online with a group of friends. We cheekily call ourselves the "Isolation Support Group".

After making sure we have our drinks sorted, we set up an 11-way Zoom call and simultaneously stream the Defected Virtual Festival, organised by British label Defected Records.

We watch American DJ Roger Sanchez spin house tunes from his living room in New York City. After Sanchez, another DJ comes on, but my friend Zaki suggests a "change of pace to melodic techno and house" from a livestream by Keinemusik, a Berlin-based collective of DJs and artists.

Broadcasting from a cavernous swimming pool in the city renowned for its club culture, German DJ Adam Port holds court on the decks.

But half an hour later, a few of us scoot off again - to a set broadcast by London-based livestreaming media platform Boiler Room. Guy Lawrence, one half of British DJ duo Disclosure, spins from the day-lit, plant-filled living room of his Los Angeles apartment.

One of my friends recalled that club-hopping was what we used to do at the old Zouk premises in Jiak Kim Street - we moved from the spacious main room to hip-hop space Phuture, and then to the more intimate Velvet Underground over the course of the night.

In Covid-19 times, I club-hopped all over the world in a few hours - clad not in painful heels but comfortable at-home shorts.

It is nothing like the real deal, where I would typically be in a room filled with hundreds of swaying bodies. But I'm sure you've heard that Covid-19 loves density.

A handful of clubs here have also jumped on the "livestreaming from isolation" bandwagon, as the circuit breaker is extended for another month.

Mega clubZouk, now in Clarke Quay, is doing livestreams five times a week on Facebook, with both resident DJs and guests like Rave Republic spinning from their homes.

The recently expanded retro-themed Nineteen80 in Tanjong Pagar held its first Twitch livestream last Friday, blasting earworms from the 1980s to the 2000s, so revellers can still be "together forever and never to part", as Rick Astley famously sang.

While there was no "cover charge", viewers could purchase vouchers to exchange for drinks and bottles when the club reopens. I was more than happy to fork out $50.

This "pay first, claim later" arrangement is also what the Singapore arm of Scottish distiller-distributor William Grant & Sons is doing. It hosts virtual sessions on Zoom with local bars every Thursday night.

The 1887 Virtual Bar lets participants interact with a rotating list of bartenders each week as they make several signature cocktails live. The purchased drinks can be claimed when the bars reopen.

To help bars stay afloat during this trying time, the distiller is also matching the value of each cocktail, capped at $1,000 for each bar.

In the last session with Tess Bar in Seah Street last Thursday, more than 160 people tuned in to see bartender Christyne Lee make drinks like a classic Clover Club and Chocolate Mint Martini. Several participants also sent questions her way.

It reminded me of sitting at a bar counter with my friends, eavesdropping on what the stranger next to me is saying to the bartender. In an actual bar, we might even strike up a conversation.

The virtual bar sessions seem to be catching on - close to 70 cocktails were sold that night, the most since the sessions kicked off on April 8.

I look forward to the day I can again party with friends and even complete strangers.

But until then, together we dance - and drink - alone.