Best Garden Seating Pubs

Just what London needs - another gastropub with delusions of grandeur. The Colonel Fawcett in Camden Town sits there, all smug with its Victorian facade and promises of "elevated pub fare," as if we haven't heard that one before. I'd written it off as yet another pretender to the proper pub throne, but damn it all if this place hasn't wormed its way into my reluctant affections. Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, The Colonel Fawcett is named after some obscure historical figure who died in London's last fatal duel. How very on-brand for a pub trying to distinguish itself from the countless other watering holes dotting Camden's landscape. Eye-roll inducing? Absolutely. Yet somehow it works, much to my chagrin. I'll admit it - I walked in with a chip on my shoulder larger than their beer-battered cod. But then something annoying happened. The staff actually seemed to care. Not in that artificial, corporate-mandated way that makes you want to flee, but with genuine warmth that felt more like visiting a friend's house. A friend who happens to know their way around a proper pint, mind you. The beer selection is thoughtfully curated without being pretentious about it. You won't find the bartender launching into an unsolicited 20-minute dissertation on hop varieties (thank heaven for small mercies), but they can intelligently discuss what's on tap if you're actually interested. And the prices? Well, they're London pub prices - which is to say, they'll make you wince, but not quite enough to make you leave. Speaking of leaving, I tried to. Multiple times. But then they had to go and serve food that's actually, irritatingly good. The Sunday roast (when they haven't run out - book ahead, you've been warned) is the kind of meal that makes you temporarily forget about the existence of all other Sunday roasts. The Yorkshire puddings rise like architectural masterpieces, and the gravy... well, let's just say I've considered asking for it by the pint. The garden is another unexpected triumph. Festooned with roses and fairy lights, it's an oasis of calm in Camden's chaos. Even on busy evenings, when the quiz night crowd spills out (Wednesdays and Fridays, if you're into that sort of thing), there's usually a quiet corner to be found. Though why they installed that wonky pool table upstairs remains a mystery worthy of their quiz nights. They've managed to thread that impossibly fine needle between maintaining proper pub character and offering modern amenities. Yes, you can pay by card at the table (welcome to the 21st century), dogs are welcome (as they bloody well should be in any self-respecting pub), and they'll even take reservations - a godsend when you're trying to organize one of those dreaded group gatherings. The interior strikes a balance between traditional pub coziness and contemporary comfort, though I suspect the Colonel himself might raise an eyebrow at some of the more modern touches. The original Victorian features remain, but they've been complemented by updates that don't make you feel like you're drinking in a museum. Located just far enough from Camden's main tourist trail to maintain its sanity, The Colonel Fawcett has become - and I can't believe I'm writing this - something of a local treasure. It's the kind of place where you can bring your parents, your punk friend from Berlin, or your fussy colleague who only drinks craft beer, and they'll all find something to like. Infuriating, really. Look, I didn't want to like The Colonel Fawcett. I really didn't. But here I am, recommending that you book a table (especially for Sunday lunch - seriously, don't just wing it), bring your dog if you have one, and settle in for what will probably be a better time than you're expecting. Just don't tell them I sent you. I have a reputation as a cynic to maintain.

Tucked away in London's East End, The Star of the East isn't just another pub - it's a love letter to everything that makes British boozing culture brilliant. While tourists queue for selfies at trendy Shoreditch bars, savvy locals make their way to this Victorian-era gem that's mastered the delicate art of being both properly old-school and refreshingly current. The moment you step through the door of The Star of the East, you're greeted by that unmistakable London pub perfume - the sweet maltiness of pulled pints mingling with centuries-old wood and the promise of a properly done Sunday roast. The interior hits that sweet spot between cozy and elegant, with dark wood panels that have absorbed decades of conversations and leather banquettes that invite you to settle in for the long haul. Fresh flowers on the tables (a wonderfully posh touch for a neighborhood pub) add splashes of color against the warm, amber-lit atmosphere. Let's talk about what makes this place special, shall we? While many London pubs have surrendered their souls to gastropub pretension or generic chain mediocrity, The Star of the East walks that perfect middle path. The bar staff here don't just serve drinks - they're proper characters who remember your usual after two visits and actually seem chuffed to see you walk in. They'll craft you a spicy margarita that would make a Mayfair mixologist blush (complete with house-dehydrated fruit, no less), or pull you a pint of something local with equal enthusiasm. The sprawling beer garden out back is one of those London miracles - a genuine oasis that feels miles away from the city chaos. With space for about 60 lucky souls, it's the kind of secret spot where summer evenings stretch into night, and strangers become friends over shared plates and second rounds. Dog owners, rejoice - your four-legged friends are more than welcome here, adding to that "everyone's living room" vibe that makes British pubs so special. Food-wise, The Star of the East proves that pub grub doesn't need to be an afterthought. Their Sunday roast has achieved minor cult status among locals, with the lamb and pork versions earning particular praise. The Yorkshire puddings arrive proudly puffed, the vegetables actually taste of something (the cauliflower cheese is a thing of beauty), and while the portions won't leave you needing a wheelbarrow home, they hit that sweet spot of quality over quantity. At around £20 for a roast, it's perfectly reasonable for London, especially given the caliber of cooking. The upstairs function room provides a more intimate space for celebrations, though be warned - you'll need to pop downstairs for drinks. But honestly, that's half the fun, isn't it? Making that journey to the bar is practically a British social tradition, and the staff's banter makes it worth the trip every time. For sports fans, this is one of those rare finds where you can watch the match without feeling like you're in a rowdy chain pub. The atmosphere during big games is electric but never aggressive - more community gathering than testosterone festival. What really sets The Star of the East apart in London's vast pub landscape is its ability to be everything to everyone without losing its identity. It's smart enough for a date night, casual enough for a quick pint after work, and welcoming enough for a lazy Sunday session. The prices won't make your wallet weep, but the quality ensures you're getting proper value for your pound. Here's my advice: make your way to The Star of the East on a late Sunday afternoon, when the weekend warriors have retreated and the golden hour light streams through those Victorian windows. Order something local from the tap, maybe grab one of those famous roasts if the kitchen's still serving, and let yourself become part of the furniture. In a city that's constantly chasing the next big thing, this London pub reminds us why some traditions are worth preserving - and why they're even better with a bit of modern polish. Trust me, it'll become your second home before you know it.

Just what London needs - another Irish pub masquerading as a legitimate establishment. The Connolly's Bar & Diner in London initially struck me as yet another tired attempt to capitalize on emerald isle nostalgia, complete with the obligatory Guinness signs and Celtic crosses. But damn it all if this place hasn't wormed its way into my cynical heart like a persistent potato blight. Let's address the elephant in the room - walking into The Connolly's Bar & Diner feels like you've stumbled into a scene from a Guy Ritchie film. The regulars give you that classic London pub once-over, sizing you up like you're carrying contraband shamrocks. But here's the thing - give it fifteen minutes, and you'll find yourself drawn into animated conversations about football matches from 1986 with people who'll defend your honor if anyone looks at you sideways. The price point is what first made me suspicious. In a city where a pint can cost more than your monthly phone bill, The Connolly's Bar & Diner maintains surprisingly reasonable rates that don't immediately trigger thoughts of watered-down drinks or questionable accounting practices. It's refreshingly honest pricing in a city that seems to have forgotten what that means. The pool table deserves special mention - not because it's particularly exceptional, but because it serves as the United Nations of pub entertainment. I've witnessed stock brokers in bespoke suits playing against construction workers still in their hi-vis gear, all while sharing commentary on each other's technique that ranges from helpful to hilariously profane. The big garden area is another unexpected triumph. While most London pubs consider three chairs and a half-dead hanging basket a "beer garden," The Connolly's actually provides legitimate outdoor space. The giant TV screen transforms it into an al fresco sports arena during big matches, though you might need to fight off pigeons for prime viewing positions. Speaking of sports, if you're looking for somewhere to watch the game, The Connolly's has somehow mastered the dark art of multiple screen placement without turning into a tacky sports bar. They'll show different matches simultaneously, which either represents impressive technical prowess or a desire to start bar fights - possibly both. The staff deserve a paragraph of their own, if only for their Jekyll and Hyde personalities. Some barkeeps will treat you like their long-lost child, while others maintain the traditional London publican scowl that suggests you've personally offended their ancestors. It's charmingly inconsistent in a way that feels genuinely authentic rather than manufactured. Let's talk about the Guinness because we must - it's an Irish pub in London, after all. They pour it properly here, with the patience of a saint and the precision of a surgeon. Yes, I timed the settle. Yes, I counted the seconds between pours. No, I'm not proud of becoming that person, but standards must be maintained. A word of warning to the coffee aficionados among you - this isn't your artisanal bean paradise. The filter coffee here is exactly what you'd expect from a proper pub: it'll wake you up, possibly through sheer terror rather than caffeine content. But honestly, if you're coming to The Connolly's Bar & Diner in London for single-origin Ethiopian beans, you've somehow missed the point entirely. For those concerned about practicalities, they take cards (including contactless), though having cash handy never hurts. The toilets are clean - a miracle in London pub terms - and they welcome dogs, which automatically earns them several points in my book. Nothing sobers up a rowdy crowd quite like a friendly Labrador making rounds. So here I am, reluctantly admitting that The Connolly's Bar & Diner has earned its place in London's pub landscape. It's managed to maintain that increasingly rare balance of being a proper local while welcoming newcomers who can handle a bit of initial scrutiny. If you're after an authentic London pub experience without the tourist markup or hipster pretense, damn it all, but you should probably give this place a try. Just don't blame me if you end up becoming a regular - I tried to be cynical, I really did.

Stop whatever you're doing right now because The Prince Of Wales in London is calling your name, and trust me, this isn't your average London pub crawl pit stop. This is where legendary nights are born, where "just one quick pint" turns into stories you'll be telling for years to come. And I'm about to tell you exactly why this gem in the heart of London needs to shoot straight to the top of your must-visit list. First off, let's talk about that GARDEN. Oh. My. Days. When the London weather plays nice (which, let's be honest, is about as reliable as your ex's text messages), this outdoor space transforms into the kind of summer paradise that makes you forget you're in the city. Picture this: you and your crew, cold pints in hand, sunshine filtering through the trees, making everyone look like they're in a music video. It's the kind of setup that turns afternoon drinks into evening shenanigans without anyone even noticing the time slip by. Inside? This is where the magic happens, people. The Prince Of Wales has somehow mastered that perfect balance between proper old-school London pub vibes and "actually, I could stay here all night" comfort. The pool table beckons to everyone who's ever claimed they were "semi-pro back in uni" (narrator: they weren't). And don't even get me started on quiz night Tuesdays – it's where Shakespeare scholars and people who only know pop culture from TikTok unite in glorious competition. Speaking of competitions, sports fans, LISTEN UP. This place screens all the big matches, and the atmosphere during game time is *chef's kiss*. Whether your team's winning or losing, the crowd here makes every match feel like a cup final. Pro tip: get here early on big game days unless you fancy watching from the garden (which, honestly, isn't the worst backup plan). But here's what really sets The Prince Of Wales apart from every other London pub claiming to be "your local." The staff here? They're the kind of people who remember your usual after two visits and actually care if you've had a rough day at work. They're serving up proper pints – none of that "oops, it's all foam" nonsense – and the cocktails are surprisingly good for a traditional pub. Like, "why-is-this-so-good" good. Let's talk food because you're going to need sustenance for the epic night ahead. We're talking proper pub classics that hit exactly right whether you're three pints in or just starting your evening. The prices won't make your wallet cry, which means more money for another round (just saying). Here's some insider intel that'll make you look like a regular: Tuesday quiz nights are COMPETITIVE (bring your smartest friend), the garden fills up faster than the tube at rush hour when the sun's out, and yes, you can bring your dog (because every pub session is better with a four-legged friend). The parking situation? Actually decent – there's a free lot nearby, which in London is about as rare as a quiet night on Oxford Street. The Prince Of Wales sits in that sweet spot where "casual catch-up" can evolve into "why is it 11 PM and why are we all learning the lyrics to that one song from 1997?" It's where first dates turn into long-term relationships, where work drinks turn into team bonding legends, and where "meeting a few friends" turns into making new ones. Listen, London's got more pubs than you've got excuses not to go out, but The Prince Of Wales isn't just another place to grab a pint. It's where memories are made, where friendships are forged over friendly games of pool, and where every visit has the potential to become your next great story. The only real question is: why aren't you here already? Round up your crew, put down that takeaway menu, and get yourself to what's about to become your new favorite London local. Trust me, future you will be grateful you did.

The Cricketers in London is what happens when a proper British pub decides to throw out the rulebook while keeping all the good bits. Tucked away in its corner of the capital, this isn't just another watering hole – it's the kind of place where the bartenders remember your name, and more importantly, your usual order. The white exterior might look ordinary at first glance (though regulars still reminisce about its former vivid blue facade), but don't let that fool you. This pub has more personality than a season of British reality TV. Step inside, and you'll find yourself in what feels like London's living room. The atmosphere hits that sweet spot between cozy neighborhood hangout and vibrant social hub, where the wooden beams and traditional fixtures blend seamlessly with a distinctly modern energy. It's the sort of place where you might spot a group of friends celebrating a promotion over craft beers, while a couple quietly shares plates of their famous prawn tacos in a corner booth. Speaking of those prawn tacos – let's talk about how The Cricketers has managed to pull off something rather special with its menu. In a city where pub grub can sometimes feel like an afterthought, this place turns traditional expectations on their head. The kitchen team has somehow managed to create a menu that spans continents while still feeling perfectly at home in a London pub. Their curry selection, particularly, deserves its own round of applause – it's the kind of authentic fare that could make a Mumbaikar homesick. The magic really happens in their two beer gardens (yes, two!), which feel like discovering secret oases in the urban jungle. These outdoor spaces transform seamlessly with the seasons – summer evenings see them filled with the gentle clinking of wine glasses and burst of laughter, while in cooler months, they become cozy retreats where dogs curl up at their owners' feet while their humans nurse perfectly poured pints. The drinks selection deserves special mention. While they've got all the standard pub offerings (expertly kept and poured, mind you), it's their creative cocktail menu that catches you by surprise. The bar staff approach mixology with the same enthusiasm as a kid in a sweet shop, but with considerably more expertise. You'll find yourself saying "I'll have what they're having" more often than not, as vibrantly colored concoctions make their way past your table. What sets The Cricketers apart from other London pubs is its chameleon-like ability to be exactly what you need it to be. Want a quiet Sunday afternoon spot? The comfortable seating areas and reasonably priced menu have you covered. Looking for "weekend vibes"? The evening atmosphere, with its great music selection and buzzing crowd, transforms the space into something altogether more lively. It's this versatility, combined with consistently friendly service, that keeps locals coming back and visitors making mental notes to return. They've embraced modern convenience without losing their soul – you can order for delivery or takeout if you're having one of those days, but honestly, you'd be missing out on half the experience. The joy of The Cricketers is in the little moments: the way the staff remember your preferences, the comfortable buzz of conversation mixing with music at just the right volume, the satisfaction of finding your favorite corner spot free just when you need it. Price-wise, it sits comfortably in the sweet spot where quality meets value. You're not paying West End prices, but the experience certainly punches above its weight. The food portions are generous, the drinks are fairly priced, and you never feel like you're being taken for a ride – which in London is something worth celebrating. For the practically minded, they take all forms of payment (none of that cash-only nonsense), there's paid street parking nearby, and they're good about accommodating groups – just give them a heads up for larger parties. Dog owners, rejoice: your four-legged friends are welcome, making it a perfect pit stop after a walk. Look, London isn't exactly hurting for pubs, but The Cricketers manages to be something special without trying too hard. It's the kind of place that makes you want to cancel your next plans just to stick around for one more round. Do yourself a favor – gather some friends, book a table (especially for weekends), and prepare to find your new favorite London local. Just don't blame me when you find yourself becoming one of those regulars who can't help but tell everyone about their brilliant neighborhood pub.

Hold onto your pint glasses, because The Old Library Bar in London is about to become your new favorite plot twist in the city's drinking scene. This isn't just another London pub - it's what happens when someone brilliant decided to turn a gorgeous old library into the coolest hangout spot you never knew you needed. And trust me, the only thing you'll be reading here is the room's incredible vibe. You know those places that feel like they were literally crafted for Instagram but somehow manage to be even better in real life? The Old Library Bar nails that sweet spot. Picture this: warm modern decor mixed with original architectural features, enough plants to make a botanist jealous, and lighting that makes everyone look like they're starring in their own indie film. It's like someone took all your coolest friend's Pinterest boards and turned them into an actual place. The garden! Oh. My. Days. Just when you think you've got The Old Library Bar figured out, they hit you with this absolute gem of an outdoor space. It's the kind of garden that makes you want to cancel all your plans and spend the entire weekend there, plotting world domination with your mates over local craft beers. Or, you know, just watching the fairy lights twinkle while you pretend you're in some secret urban oasis. Speaking of drinks - let's talk about that beer selection. The Old Library Bar in London isn't playing around with their tap lineup. They've curated a collection of local brews that'll make your usual order feel like yesterday's news. And the cans and bottles? It's like they've gone on a treasure hunt to find the most interesting options out there. Even your beer-snob friend (we all have one) will be impressed. But here's where it gets REALLY good. They've started hosting live music events that are absolutely transforming random Friday nights into "remember when" stories. Jazz nights that make you feel impossibly sophisticated. Gigs that remind you why live music is basically magic. The acoustics in this place? *chef's kiss* Perfect for everything from mellow acoustic sets to those bands that make you wonder why they aren't famous yet. Can we talk about the staff for a minute? Because they're the kind of people who make you feel like you've been coming here for years, even if it's your first visit. They know their stuff, they're genuinely friendly (not that fake-friendly that makes you cringe), and they'll recommend things that make you trust them with your entire evening's drinking decisions. Friday through Sunday, this place becomes the embassy of good times in London. Yes, those are currently their opening days, which honestly just makes it feel more special. Like, if you're here, you KNOW you're in for a proper good time. It's not trying to be everything to everyone, every day of the week - and that's exactly why it's perfect. Let's be real about something: The Old Library Bar is the kind of place that makes you want to cancel your plans elsewhere and bring everyone HERE instead. It's where "just one quick drink" turns into "wait, is that the sun coming up?" It's for first dates that turn into second dates, friend catchups that turn into impromptu parties, and random evenings that turn into memories you'll be talking about for months. Drop a pin, mark your maps, do whatever you need to do to remember where this place is, because The Old Library Bar in London is serving up the kind of atmosphere that makes you feel like the main character in your own story. It's tucked away enough to feel like a discovery, but too good to keep secret. The kind of spot that makes you simultaneously want to tell everyone you know about it and keep it all to yourself. Don't even think about making weekend plans without checking what's happening here first. Because while you're deciding if you should go, someone else is already having the night of their life at The Old Library Bar. And in a city as big as London, finding a place that feels this special is basically striking gold. So grab your mates, clear your schedule, and get yourself down here - because this isn't just another venue, it's your new favorite chapter in London's nightlife story.

Oh great, another gastropub in London trying to convince us they're reinventing the wheel. The Orange Tree in Totteridge has all the hallmarks of yet another pretender to the throne - exposed brick walls (I assume), craft beer selection (naturally), and a menu that probably describes every potato as "hand-cut." But hold that eye roll, because I'm about to do something I rarely do: admit I was wrong. Let's get the obvious out of the way - yes, The Orange Tree is doing that whole upscale pub thing that London seems inexplicably obsessed with. But unlike the countless others dotting the city's landscape like ambitious mushrooms after rain, this place actually knows what it's doing. And it pains me to say that. It really does. I went in prepared to skewer another mediocre attempt at elevating pub fare to fine dining, armed with my usual arsenal of cynicism and a notepad ready to document every overpriced disappointment. Instead, I found myself reluctantly putting down my metaphorical sword after the first course. Their chicken liver pate (which I ordered fully expecting to compare it unfavorably to my grandmother's) was irritatingly good. The beef croquettes that followed were even better - rich, deep-flavored little bullets of happiness that made me momentarily forget my professional obligation to be perpetually unimpressed. The pub's interior manages to walk that precarious line between cozy and elegant without tumbling into the pit of pretension that claims so many London establishments. The garden seating area is particularly lovely, though I'm contractually obligated to grumble about the British weather making it useful approximately three days per year. But it's the Sunday roast that truly forced me to surrender my carefully cultivated disdain. In a city where "Sunday lunch with all the trimmings" often means three sad roast potatoes and a Yorkshire pudding that could double as a frisbee, The Orange Tree serves up a proper feast. The portions are generous enough to make you wonder if they've confused British and American sizing conventions, and everything - yes, everything - actually comes with the dish. No sneaky "would you like to add caulirose cheese for an additional £4.95?" The service strikes that perfect balance between attentive and overbearing - something so rare in London that I'm half convinced they're all actors. They're knowledgeable about the menu without reciting essays about each ingredient's life story, and they manage to keep water glasses filled without hovering like anxious helicopters. Price-wise, it sits comfortably in that sweet spot where you can justify it for a casual Friday night but also feel appropriate celebrating a special occasion. The wine list is surprisingly reasonable for London, with options that won't force you to remortgage your home for a decent bottle. Their commitment to accommodating various dietary requirements isn't just the usual grudging vegetarian option either. The vegetarian dishes show actual thought and creativity, rather than the standard "remove the meat and charge the same price" approach so common elsewhere. The Orange Tree has even managed to crack that most elusive of codes: being both child-friendly and adult-appropriate. There's a proper children's menu that goes beyond the usual chicken nugget suspects, while maintaining an atmosphere where grown-ups can actually enjoy their meal. It's like they've discovered some sort of mystical spatial engineering that keeps the family chaos at just the right distance from the date-night tables. Look, I didn't want to like The Orange Tree. I really didn't. But much like that friend who keeps setting you up on blind dates, sometimes the universe knows better than your own stubbornly maintained prejudices. If you're in North London and looking for a pub that delivers more than empty promises and overpriced mediocrity, I cannot believe I'm saying this, but The Orange Tree is worth your time and money. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation to maintain.