Best Traditional Pub Pubs

Stepping into the Old Bank of England in London feels like crossing a threshold between eras, where the gravitas of financial history dissolves into the warmth of contemporary conviviality. The grand Victorian architecture looms above Fleet Street, its imposing facade a prelude to the theatrical splendor waiting within. Here, beneath soaring gilded ceilings and ornate chandeliers, the spirits of bygone bankers mingle with the lively chatter of modern-day Londoners. The transformation from institution to institution of a different sort has been nothing short of alchemical. Where once stern-faced clerks counted sovereigns, today's patrons find themselves amid one of London's most spectacular pub interiors. The Old Bank of England preserves its architectural heritage like a precious vintage, allowing each carved mahogany panel and brass fitting to tell its story through the patina of time. The main hall unfolds like a cathedral to comfort, its vast ceiling supported by pillars that have witnessed countless celebrations, business deals, and first dates. Light streams through towering windows, catching the edges of ornate cornices and dancing across the polished bar where rows of taps stand at attention. The space commands reverence while somehow managing to feel intimate, as if each corner booth and high-backed chair holds its own microcosm of London life. In the evening, when the chandeliers cast their golden glow, the Old Bank of England transforms again. The bar's brass rails gleam like newly minted coins, and conversations flow as smoothly as the carefully curated selection of ales and spirits. You might find yourself perched at one of the elevated tables, watching the theater of London life unfold below, or tucked into a cozy nook where the building's banking heritage feels like a distant dream. The menu honors British pub traditions while acknowledging modern palates. Here, classic meat pies arrive with a dignity befitting their surroundings, their golden crusts concealing rich, savory fillings that speak of careful preparation rather than mass production. The fish and chips, that eternal London standard, comes elevated but unpretentious, the cod wearing its crispy batter like well-tailored formal wear. Perhaps most remarkable is the pub's beer garden, an unexpected oasis accessed through what was once the bank's secure entrance. Here, beneath London's capricious skies, you'll find a delightfully eclectic space where an old Routemaster bus has been cleverly repurposed into additional seating. It's a whimsical touch that perfectly captures the venue's ability to honor its past while embracing the present. The staff navigate the space with the easy familiarity of those who understand they're custodians of something special. Their knowledge extends beyond the drinks menu to the building's rich history, and they're happy to share tales of the bank's former life, including its proximity to the original Sweeney Todd's barber shop – a macabre detail that adds another layer to the venue's rich narrative tapestry. As day shifts to evening, the Old Bank of England reveals different facets of its character. The after-work crowd brings City energy, their suits and smart casual wear fitting seamlessly into the dignified surroundings. Later, the atmosphere softens as couples and friends settle in for evening meals or celebratory drinks, the space accommodating both intimate conversations and lively group gatherings with equal grace. Live music occasionally fills the vast space, the acoustics that once carried the rustle of bank notes now perfect for everything from jazz quartets to classical soloists. These performances add another dimension to the venue's character, the music seeming to awaken echoes of all the stories these walls have witnessed. When you visit the Old Bank of England, you're not just entering a pub – you're becoming part of a continuing London story. Whether you're seeking a memorable meal, a historic atmosphere, or simply a superior pint in extraordinary surroundings, you'll find it here where Fleet Street's past and present converge. Come add your own chapter to this grand building's ongoing narrative, where every visit feels both timeless and entirely of the moment.

The Gipsy Moth in London stands as a testament to Greenwich's enduring maritime heritage, positioned proudly beside the magnificent Cutty Sark ship. This historic pub, nestled in the heart of maritime Greenwich, offers visitors and locals alike a chance to drink in both London's storied past and its vibrant present, all while enjoying a pint beneath the towering masts of one of the world's most famous sailing vessels. In the ever-evolving landscape of London's pub culture, The Gipsy Moth maintains a delicate balance between tourist destination and authentic local haunt. Its name pays homage to the small aircraft in which Amy Johnson made her solo flight to Australia in 1930, reflecting Greenwich's connection to both maritime and aviation history. The pub's location, adjacent to the Cutty Sark, places it at the intersection of London's past and present, where centuries of maritime commerce once flowed through the Thames, and where today's visitors come to experience a slice of British cultural heritage. The interior of The Gipsy Moth speaks to London's traditional pub aesthetic while incorporating contemporary comfort. Dark wood panels and brass fixtures create a classic ambiance, while thoughtful modern touches ensure the space feels current rather than contrived. The pub's layout, with its ground-floor bar area and upstairs dining space, demonstrates an understanding of how modern Londoners use their local establishments - as meeting places, dining venues, and social hubs all rolled into one. Perhaps The Gipsy Moth's greatest triumph is its outdoor space, a coveted feature in London's pub scene. The beer garden, with its view of the Cutty Sark's impressive hull, transforms an ordinary pub experience into something extraordinary. The management's attention to detail is evident in the provision of blankets and outdoor heaters, acknowledging London's mercurial weather while enabling year-round al fresco dining and drinking. This outdoor space serves as a democratic forum where tourists snap photos of the historic ship while locals catch up over after-work drinks. The food and drink offerings reflect contemporary London's culinary expectations. The menu strikes a careful balance between pub classics and modern British cuisine, with vegetarian options acknowledging changing dietary preferences. The bar selection showcases both traditional real ales and craft beers, while the cocktail menu - featuring carefully crafted favorites like their noted Pornstar Martini - speaks to London's sophisticated drinking culture. Service at The Gipsy Moth embodies the modern London pub approach - professional yet casual, attentive without being intrusive. The staff navigate the complex dynamics of serving both curious tourists and regular patrons with equal consideration, maintaining the welcoming atmosphere that characterizes the best of British pub culture. The provision of table service, increasingly common in London's more polished establishments, adds a layer of comfort without sacrificing the casual nature of a proper pub. The pub's clientele reflects Greenwich's unique position as both tourist destination and living community. During peak hours, you might find yourself sharing space with international visitors, local office workers, maritime enthusiasts, and Greenwich residents, creating a vibrant social atmosphere that few London pubs can match. This diversity of patrons contributes to the pub's energy while challenging the staff to maintain consistent service standards across different expectations and cultural norms. Accessibility has been thoughtfully considered, with ground-floor facilities for those with mobility requirements, while the upstairs area provides additional seating during busy periods. The pub's adaptation to modern payment methods, including contactless options, reflects its understanding of contemporary consumer preferences while maintaining traditional service values. To experience The Gipsy Moth in London is to participate in a living piece of Greenwich's cultural fabric. Whether you're settling in for a Sunday roast, meeting friends for evening drinks, or simply seeking respite after exploring Maritime Greenwich's UNESCO World Heritage sites, the pub offers an authentic slice of London life. As the sun sets behind the Cutty Sark's rigging, casting long shadows across the pub's outdoor tables, you'll understand why this establishment continues to serve as both a beacon for visitors and a beloved local institution in one of London's most historic neighborhoods.

In the heart of London's theatrical district, The Harp in Covent Garden stands as a testament to what a proper British pub should be. Its narrow Victorian facade, adorned with stained glass windows that catch the late afternoon light, beckons passersby with the warm glow of history and hospitality. The golden harp above the entrance has become a beacon for both locals seeking respite and visitors drawn to its authentic charm. Here, in this slender slice of London's pub heritage, time moves at its own peculiar pace. The wood-paneled walls wear their years with dignity, each scuff and polish telling stories of countless conversations, celebrations, and quiet contemplations. During peak hours, bodies press together in a familiar dance of reaching for pints and making room for newcomers, yet somehow the atmosphere never feels overwhelming – rather, it pulses with a convivial energy that seems to expand the space beyond its physical constraints. As you navigate through The Harp's intimate interior, you'll notice the careful curation of real ales that has earned this Covent Garden institution its reputation. The bar staff move with practiced efficiency, their knowledge flowing as freely as the drinks they pour. They'll guide you through the rotating selection of cask ales with genuine enthusiasm, offering tasters with a smile that suggests they're sharing a beloved secret rather than simply doing their job. The pub's famous windows cast kaleidoscope shadows across the worn wooden floor, creating subtle light shows that shift with the passing hours. Regular patrons claim their usual spots beneath the vintage beer advertisements and framed snippets of local history, while newcomers find themselves naturally drawn into conversations that bridge cultures and generations. This is where London's traditional pub culture lives and breathes, neither preserved in amber nor modernized beyond recognition. At The Harp, the price of a pint reflects the fair exchange between keeper and guest that has characterized British pub culture for centuries. The careful maintenance of the cask ales, the expertise behind the bar, and the preserved historical character all justify the modest investment in an authentic London pub experience. In a neighborhood where tourist traps abound, The Harp maintains its integrity without pretension. Dogs doze contentedly beneath bar stools while their owners exchange local gossip. City workers loosen their ties and shake off the day's tensions, forming impromptu communities around shared tables. The absence of background music allows conversation to flow naturally, creating an orchestration of human voices that rises and falls like the tides of the nearby Thames. Even in its busiest moments, The Harp retains an indefinable quality of welcome. Perhaps it's the way the staff remember regular faces, or how quickly strangers become drinking companions. The small outdoor spaces – a few tables out front and in the back alley – offer breathing room when the interior swells with humanity, though most prefer to remain in the warm embrace of the main bar. The proximity to Covent Garden's theaters means you might find yourself sharing space with actors fresh from the stage, still electric with performance energy, or theater-goers dissecting the evening's entertainment over a final nightcap. This is a pub that understands its role in the broader tapestry of London life – a place where the day's experiences are processed and shared, where stories are born and retold. As the evening deepens, The Harp in Covent Garden continues its centuries-old tradition of providing sanctuary and sustenance to London's tired souls. Whether you're seeking the perfect pint of real ale, a moment of connection in an increasingly disconnected world, or simply a taste of authentic London pub culture, you'll find it here, where the stained glass still catches the light just so, and the conversations flow as smoothly as the carefully kept ales. Step through the door of The Harp, and you're not just entering a pub – you're becoming part of a continuing story that intertwines with the very fabric of London itself. In an age of constant change, this Covent Garden treasure offers something increasingly rare: a genuine place to belong, if only for an evening.

Looking for the beating heart of proper British pub culture in London? The Windmill isn't just another watering hole - it's that rare gem where time-honored tradition meets "I can't believe this place exists" vibes. Tucked into the sophisticated streets of Mayfair, this London institution has mastered the art of making everyone feel like a regular from the moment they cross the threshold. OMG THE PIES THOUGH. Sorry for shouting, but the Windmill's legendary pies deserve all-caps enthusiasm. We're talking perfectly flaky, golden-brown masterpieces that make other London pubs' offerings look like sad microwave meals. The steak and kidney pie here isn't just dinner - it's a religious experience that's converted countless kidney skeptics into true believers. Picture this: It's a cozy Thursday evening, you've just survived another workday, and you're cozied up in a corner of the Windmill with a perfectly poured pint and the kind of comfort food that makes you want to hug the chef. The front might be bustling with after-work crowds (because apparently we're not the only ones who know about this place), but somehow it never loses that intimate "this is MY pub" feeling. Let's talk about that menu for a hot second. While the pies are the headliners (and trust me, they deserve their own fan club), everything here is knock-your-socks-off good. The black pudding Scotch egg? It's the kind of starter that ruins all other Scotch eggs for you forever. And don't even get me started on the sticky toffee pudding - it's basically dessert nirvana. But here's what really sets the Windmill apart from other London pubs: it's got layers, people. LAYERS. Want a quiet corner for a romantic date? They've got you. Rolling deep with your whole crew? There's space for that too. Dog-friendly? CHECK. Good for both power lunches and proper evening feasts? Double check. The drink selection deserves its own paragraph because HELLO, options! We're talking carefully curated ales, craft beers that'll make your beer-snob friend actually shut up and enjoy something, and a wine list that proves pubs can do fancy when they want to. Plus, their cocktails? Legitimate works of art that don't require a second mortgage to enjoy. Pro tip: While you can sometimes luck into a table (especially if you're cool with eating at slightly off-peak times), booking ahead is your friend here. Nothing worse than craving their steak pie and finding yourself standing outside looking in like a sad puppy. Trust me, I've been that sad puppy - learn from my mistakes. The staff here deserve a special shoutout because they've somehow mastered that perfect balance of attentive but not hovering, friendly but not fake, and knowledgeable but not pretentious. They're like your coolest friend who happens to know EVERYTHING about good food and drink. Fair warning: Once you've experienced the Windmill, other London pubs might start feeling a bit... basic. The prices sit right in that sweet spot where your wallet won't hate you, but you're getting the kind of quality that makes you feel like you've discovered London's best-kept secret (along with the other 2,500+ people who've rated it 4.5 stars, but who's counting?). Listen, I could go on about this place forever, but instead, I'm just going to tell you this: The Windmill isn't just a pub in London - it's THE pub in London where memories are made, comfort food dreams come true, and every visit feels like coming home. Whether you're a local or just passing through, missing out on this place would be like visiting London without seeing Big Ben - technically possible, but why would you do that to yourself?

Just what London needs - another pub called The Crown. How wonderfully original. I must have visited at least eight establishments with the same regal moniker this month alone, each claiming to be the authentic neighborhood watering hole. And yet, here I am, reluctantly admitting that this particular Crown in London's bustling heart has somehow managed to charm even my jaded soul. Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, it's snug. If you're expecting the sprawling beer halls that plague the city's trendier districts, you're in for a disappointment. But there's something almost admirable about how The Crown embraces its cozy confines, turning what could be a cramped liability into an asset that actually fosters the kind of intimate atmosphere that's becoming increasingly rare in London's pub scene. I arrived determined to find fault, armed with my usual arsenal of critiques about overpriced pints and indifferent service. The £7.50 beer prices initially had me reaching for my well-worn soapbox about London's drinking culture gone mad. But then something unexpected happened - the staff, while maintaining that carefully cultivated London pub worker aloofness, demonstrated a surprising competence that made me pause mid-eye-roll. The real revelation came with the food. Against my better judgment, I ordered the seabass, fully prepared to pen a scathing comparison to every overpriced fish dish in the city. Instead, I found myself grudgingly appreciating a plate that could indeed rival offerings from establishments charging twice as much. It's the kind of dish that makes you question your own cynicism, which is frankly annoying. The Crown's musical offerings deserve special mention, if only because they've managed to curate a playlist that doesn't make me want to flee immediately. Live music features occasionally, and somehow they've avoided the tragic parade of acoustic guitar massacres that plague so many London pubs. The sticky toffee pudding, which I ordered purely for journalistic thoroughness, proved irritatingly delicious. The two-floor layout works in the venue's favor, with families relegated (or perhaps privileged, depending on your perspective) to the upper level. This creates a natural segregation that benefits everyone - parents can relax without worrying about their offspring disturbing the serious business of drinking downstairs, while child-free patrons can pretend they're in a proper grown-up establishment. Dog-friendly policies are increasingly common in London pubs, but The Crown manages to implement this without turning into a canine social club. The four-legged patrons I encountered were better behaved than most of the human variety you'll find in central London on a Friday night. Payment options are thoroughly modern - they accept everything short of cryptocurrency and ancient Roman coins. There's no parking to speak of, but you're in central London; if you're driving to pubs, you're doing it wrong. The reservation system actually works, which in London's pub scene is practically a miracle. The Crown sits comfortably in that sweet spot between a proper boozer and a gastropub, managing to serve both purposes without failing miserably at either. It's the kind of place that makes you remember why pubs became such an integral part of London's social fabric in the first place, even as it adapts to modern expectations. Look, I'm not saying The Crown is going to revolutionize London's pub scene. It's not trying to be the next big thing, and that's precisely why it works. It's a pub that knows exactly what it is - a reliable spot for a decent pint, surprisingly good food, and an atmosphere that somehow manages to feel both traditional and current. Make a reservation if you're planning to visit during peak hours, though watching would-be patrons realize they should have booked ahead does provide a certain entertainment value. Despite my best efforts to maintain my professional skepticism, I find myself adding The Crown to my increasingly short list of London pubs worth revisiting. And yes, that admission pains me as much as it surprises you.

The George in London stands as a testament to the timeless art of the British pub, where centuries of conversation have polished the wood as smooth as river stones. Nestled near the Heath, this Greene King establishment wears its heritage proudly, yet remains thoroughly alive with the pulse of modern London. Warm amber lights spill across weathered floorboards, creating pools of golden welcome that draw you in from the bustling street. Through the heavy wooden doors, you'll find yourself wrapped in an atmosphere that feels both grand and intimate. The space unfolds like a well-thumbed novel, each corner revealing its own character. High ceilings crowned with vintage fixtures lend an air of Victorian splendor, while comfortable nooks and crannies offer sanctuary for quiet conversations. The bar, a commanding presence of gleaming brass and polished wood, anchors the room like the gravitational center of a social universe. In the main room of The George, London's endless stories seem to whisper from the walls. Regulars lean against the bar as if they've grown there, while tourists and locals alike find common ground over perfectly poured pints of Guinness. The gentle murmur of conversation rises and falls like a tide, punctuated by the crystalline clink of glasses and the distant laugh of someone sharing a well-landed joke. During football matches, the energy transforms, the space electric with collective anticipation as supporters gather around strategically placed screens. The pub's outdoor space feels like discovering a secret garden in the heart of the city. The beer garden offers respite on warm London afternoons, where dappled sunlight plays through overhead greenery, and the urban rush seems to fade to a distant memory. Dogs doze at their owners' feet while friends share plates of pub classics, creating a tableau of contentment that feels quintessentially British. Speaking of food, The George's kitchen has mastered the art of elevated pub fare without losing touch with its roots. Their burger menu has earned particular praise, including thoughtfully crafted gluten-free options that don't compromise on satisfaction. Each dish emerges from the kitchen as a careful balance between tradition and modern expectations, much like the pub itself. The portions speak of generosity without excess, the prices fair for the quality and care invested in each plate. The drink selection reflects a similar philosophy of accessible excellence. The bar staff treat each pour with reverent attention, whether it's crafting a contemporary cocktail or executing the perfect two-stage Guinness ritual. The wine list is curated with both knowledge and approachability in mind, while the beer selection ranges from beloved standards to rotating craft options that keep regulars coming back to discover something new. Service at The George embodies the best of London hospitality - professional yet personal, attentive without hovering. Staff members move through the space with the easy confidence of those who know their craft well, reading the room with an intuitive understanding of when to engage and when to let conversations flow undisturbed. The modern convenience of app ordering blends seamlessly with traditional service, though the human touch remains central to the experience. As evening draws in, the atmosphere shifts like light through stained glass. The warm glow of the interior becomes more pronounced, and the space takes on an amber-lit intimacy that encourages lingering conversations and spontaneous friendships. Groups gather around tables that have hosted countless celebrations, while couples find quiet corners that feel made for whispered confidences. The George stands as more than just another London pub - it's a living landmark where the city's past and present meet in perfect measure. Whether you're seeking solace after a hospital visit, celebration after a Heath walk, or simply a well-pulled pint in good company, you'll find your place here. Step through these doors and add your story to the countless others that have unfolded within these walls, where London's heart beats steady and true, one pint at a time.

The Crooked Billet in London isn't just another pub – it's what happens when Victorian charm meets East End cool, with a dash of modern magic thrown in for good measure. Tucked away in Clapton, this transformed 19th-century watering hole has become the sort of place where craft beer enthusiasts swap tasting notes with local artists, and Sunday roast aficionados find their spiritual home. Let's be honest – London has more pubs than pigeons, but there's something special about pushing open these doors. Maybe it's the way sunlight streams through those grand bay windows, casting warm patterns across the checkered tile floors. Or perhaps it's the island bar that serves as the pub's beating heart, where seasoned bartenders pour perfect pints with the kind of precision that makes you wonder if they've got protractors hidden behind the taps. The real showstopper at the Crooked Billet London isn't just the lovingly preserved wooden wall panels or the twin fireplaces that bookend the bar (though they're proper beauties). It's the absolutely massive beer garden that feels like stumbling into a secret festival. We're talking covered cabins that wouldn't look out of place in a boutique glamping site, cozy seating alcoves perfect for conspiratorial conversations, and enough space to host a small village fête. The garden even sports table tennis tables for those moments when you need to work off that extra Yorkshire pudding from your Sunday roast. Inside, the pub strikes that perfect balance between traditional and trendy – like your cool aunt who collects vintage vinyl but also knows all the latest TikTok dances. The Edwardian photos on the walls tell stories of the pub's past lives, while the carefully curated beer selection (including some properly interesting local London brews) speaks to its present. The prices won't make your wallet weep – think reasonably priced pints and pub grub that delivers serious bang for your buck. Speaking of food, let's talk about those pizzas that have regulars swearing they've been teleported to Naples. The kitchen team here isn't messing about – they're turning out the kind of pizzas that make Italians nod approvingly. The mac and cheese has achieved near-legendary status among comfort food seekers, and the Sunday roasts? Well, let's just say they've ended more than a few hangover wars. The atmosphere shifts with the hours like a well-orchestrated symphony. Weekday afternoons see laptop warriors claiming the sunny spots near the windows, their flat whites keeping company with client calls. As evening approaches, the energy rises with the gathering crowd, and those beautiful wooden panels seem to absorb and reflect back the warm buzz of conversation and laughter. For sports fans, the Crooked Billet has become something of a sanctuary. Multiple screens mean you're never far from the action, but they're thoughtfully positioned so as not to dominate the space. It's the kind of setup that lets you follow the match without feeling like you're in a sports bar – proper civilized, as your gran might say. The service strikes that perfect London pub sweet spot – attentive without hovering, knowledgeable without being pretentious. The staff here actually seem to enjoy their jobs (a minor miracle in the hospitality world), and they're always ready with a recommendation whether you're after a new craft beer to try or can't decide between the fish and chips or the burger. What really sets the Crooked Billet apart from London's ocean of pubs is how it's managed to become a true community hub while still welcoming newcomers like old friends. Bring your kids (there's a proper play area), bring your dog (they're welcome), bring your gran (those banquette seats are properly comfortable), or bring your first date (those garden alcoves are romance gold). Here's the thing about the Crooked Billet in London – it's not trying to be the next big thing or the hippest spot in East London. Instead, it's something far more valuable: a proper pub that understands what modern Londoners want while respecting what makes a British pub special in the first place. So next time you're in Clapton, do yourself a favor and stop by. Grab a pint, order some food, and settle in. Trust me, you'll soon be planning your next visit before you've finished your first drink.

Stumbling upon the King Edward VII in London is like finding a portal to a more civilized era of British drinking culture, where time moves at the pace of a well-pulled pint and conversation flows as freely as the ale. This isn't just another London pub trying to cash in on ye olde charm – the King Edward VII has earned every creak in its floorboards and every story etched into its weathered bar top. Let's be honest: in a city where trendy bars seem to pop up faster than tube delays, there's something magnificently stubborn about this place. The King Edward VII stands like a defiant reminder that sometimes, the best things in life don't need a constant makeover. The reasonably priced drinks and hearty pub fare won't break the bank, making it a refreshing find in a neighborhood where craft cocktails often cost more than a small car payment. Walking through the doors feels like stepping into your eccentric great-aunt's living room – if your great-aunt had impeccable taste in ales and a penchant for Victorian memorabilia. The walls are a testament to decades of London life, adorned with photographs and curiosities that could keep you entertained for hours. There's that slightly worn comfort to everything, like a favorite leather armchair that's molded itself perfectly to your shape over years of use. The real magic of this place reveals itself in layers. First, there's the gentle hum of conversation that seems to rise and fall like a well-conducted orchestra. Then you'll notice the soft glow of original light fixtures casting warm pools of light across dark wood surfaces. The air carries that distinctive London pub potpourri – a blend of hoppy beverages, hearty food, and centuries of conversations soaked into the walls. During Sunday roast service, the King Edward VII truly comes into its own. The aroma of roasted meats and Yorkshire puddings wafting from the kitchen could make a vegetarian question their life choices (though they do offer excellent veggie options too). The portions are generous enough to make your grandmother proud, and the gravy – oh, the gravy – is rich enough to have its own postcode. Live music nights transform the space into something special. Local musicians set up in the corner, their tunes mixing with the clinking of glasses and bursts of laughter. It's the kind of atmosphere where strangers become friends over shared plates of chips and amusing tales of London life. Dogs doze contentedly under tables while their owners debate everything from football to philosophy. The outdoor seating area is a particular triumph, especially during those precious few months of London sunshine. It's not trying to be a Mediterranean terrace or a Brooklyn-style beer garden – it's quintessentially British, right down to the hardy souls who'll sit out there with a pint even in drizzle, because that's just what we do. For groups, the King Edward VII is a godsend. The space accommodates crowds without feeling like a cattle market, and the staff have mastered that delicate art of being attentive without hovering. Whether you're planning a birthday gathering or just meeting mates after work, the pub's reasonable prices mean you can settle in for the long haul without worrying about remortgaging your house. Here's an insider tip: arrive around 5 PM on weekdays if you want to snag one of the coveted corner tables. That's when the after-work crowd starts filtering in, but before the evening rush truly begins. And while they take cards (including contactless), there's something satisfyingly traditional about paying for your pint with cash – just saying. The King Edward VII isn't trying to be the next big thing in London's drinking scene, and that's precisely why it works. In a city that's constantly chasing the next trend, this pub remains steadfastly, unapologetically itself. So next time you're in the area and the siren song of yet another industrial-chic craft beer establishment calls, resist. Instead, push open that heavy wooden door, find yourself a corner of the King Edward VII, and settle in for an evening of what London pubs do best – making you feel perfectly at home, even if home is thousands of miles away.