Less words, more pics from That London, including a rare diversion into unheralded Finsbury.
A night at Tower Bridge was inevitably followed by a Miner’s Benedict in the scruffiest (but somehow lovable) Spoons in the kingdom.
I resisted the easy-drinking breakfast beer.
You risk bumping into folk, of course, but there’s some weird stuff around Liverpool St at the moment.
This is clearly a Japanese micro on London Wall.
The other big draw here is the Crossrail Tourist Office, now selling souvenirs of the 2018 grand opening at 25% off.
At Liverpool Street I ignored the urgent instructions from Google Maps and went out on a limb, probably in search of overpriced artisanal coffee.
Instead I ended up at Bunhill Fields Burial Ground. It seems you’re drawn to cemeteries once you reach 50, or realise you’re never going to get an NBSS 5 beer.
An area either side of Old Street I’ve rarely ventured, a mix of council housing, a Museum of Methodism, Union offices and closed pubs.
The Britannia, a “working-class local” sounds like a BeerMat of a pub.
The snapshot of GBG pubs in the area is enlightening. Only that bastion of Proper Pubbiness in hispster land, the Old Fountain.
Sadly, the Corner Bar has replaced handpumps with Thai food.
Pentonville brings smarter housing but less scruffy pubs, a win/lose for me.
It’s a gem of a spell, the peace only broken as you emerge at the back of the Time Out offices and spot Kings Cross Road.
I’ll leave you with some London poetry, it probably being poetry day somewhere in the world.
Never change/always change.