Bricklayers Arms

Just what London needs - another pub with "Arms" in the name. The Bricklayers Arms in London initially struck me as yet another forgettable watering hole trying desperately to maintain its "authentic local" status while the neighborhood gentrifies faster than a barista can craft a deconstructed flat white. But here's the thing: I'm annoyed at how much I actually like this place.

Let's address the elephant in the room - this isn't one of those London pubs that's been thoroughly gastropubbed within an inch of its life. You won't find artisanal sourdough flatbreads or cocktails garnished with locally foraged herbs here. Instead, the Bricklayers Arms offers something increasingly rare in London: genuine unpretentiousness. And god help me, it's refreshing.

The first thing that won me over - despite my best efforts to maintain my professional cynicism - was the complete absence of exposed Edison bulbs. Not a single one. No reclaimed industrial lighting fixtures. No carefully curated vintage mismatched furniture. Just honest-to-goodness pub furnishings that have earned their wear naturally over decades of actual use. There's something almost rebellious about its steadfast refusal to "update" to meet modern expectations.

The beer garden out back is another reluctant highlight. While other venues might dress up their outdoor spaces with Pinterest-worthy string lights and artificial grass, this one just... exists. It's functional, unpretentious, and somehow better for it. On warm evenings, it fills with an eclectic mix of locals who appear to actually know each other - a concept so foreign in modern London it almost seems staged.

The bar staff, led by a landlord who seems to have graduated from the old school of publicans, manage to achieve that perfect balance of friendly without fawning. They remember regulars' drinks, can actually pour a proper pint (an increasingly rare skill in London these days), and maintain the kind of dry wit that makes you feel like you're in on some long-running joke, even if it's your first visit.

Don't come expecting craft beer flights or single-origin coffee beans. The Bricklayers Arms serves proper pub drinks at prices that won't require a second mortgage - a fascinating concept in today's London. The wine list won't win awards, but it serves its purpose admirably, and the beer selection, while not extensive, includes everything a reasonable person might want in a proper pub.

The entertainment options are refreshingly analog. There's a dart board that's actually used for darts rather than serving as ironic wall decoration. The pool table hasn't been converted into extra seating for the lunch crowd. And yes, there are TVs showing sports - actual sports, not performative screenings of arthouse films.

They've somehow managed to maintain that increasingly rare pub atmosphere where conversations happen between strangers, where the background noise is actual laughter rather than carefully curated playlist selections, and where nobody's taking photos of their drinks for social media. It's almost suspiciously authentic.

Let's be clear - this isn't a destination venue for tourists seeking the perfect Instagram backdrop. The Bricklayers Arms in London is something far more valuable: a genuine local pub that's survived the city's relentless march toward homogenized hospitality. It's the kind of place where you might actually meet your neighbors, assuming anyone in London still talks to their neighbors.

If you're looking for somewhere to host a CBD-infused gin tasting or launch your latest small-batch kombucha brand, keep walking. But if you want a proper London pub that serves proper drinks at proper prices, with the kind of atmosphere that can't be manufactured by a hospitality consulting firm, the Bricklayers Arms is irritatingly perfect. And I hate myself a little bit for admitting that.

Book your next casual gathering here before someone decides it needs a concept makeover. London has enough conceptual drinking spaces - what it needs are more honest pubs like this one. Just don't tell too many people I sent you. I have a reputation to maintain.