Prince Arthur

Just what London needs - another pub claiming to be a "hidden gem" near Old Street Station. The Prince Arthur sits there, acting all modest about its Victorian facade while secretly knowing it's cooler than the try-hard bars dotting Shoreditch's main strips. I wanted to hate it. Really, I did.

But here's the thing about the Prince Arthur that gets under your skin: it's managed to nail that elusive sweet spot between historical charm and contemporary relevance without coming across as desperately contrived. The stripped plaster walls and heritage bubble glass windows somehow work alongside street art and vintage oddities without looking like your uncle's failed attempt at "eclectic decor."

I found myself grudgingly appreciating the way they've maintained the building's character while adapting to modern London's demanding sensibilities. The reclaimed wood cladding could've been tragic - we've all seen enough Pinterest-inspired disasters - but they've actually pulled it off. The corner fireplace serves as an anchor point, surrounded by what should be a mess of flea market finds but somehow creates an atmosphere that makes you want to settle in for the evening.

Let's talk about the upstairs function room, which I fully expected to be another soulless space for corporate events. Instead, I discovered a rather charming setup with a floral balcony that offers a welcome escape from the street-level bustle. The rotating art exhibitions up there provide a cultural veneer that's just pretentious enough to be interesting without making you roll your eyes.

The drink selection is predictably decent - it would be career suicide for a London pub near Silicon Roundabout to serve anything less than a solid range of craft beers and wines. What's unexpected is the staff's genuine knowledge and lack of superiority complex about it. They'll happily guide you through the options without making you feel like an idiot for not knowing the exact hop content of every IPA.

Speaking of staff, they've somehow managed to hire people who remember what hospitality means. In an era where many London pubs seem to consider basic courtesy an optional extra, the Prince Arthur's team maintains a level of friendliness that doesn't feel forced. It's refreshingly genuine, even during peak hours when the place is heaving with the usual mix of tech workers and creative types.

The outdoor seating area deserves mention, if only because they've managed to make something actually pleasant out of what could have been a sad collection of wobbly tables on the pavement. Both the ground level and upstairs spaces offer decent spots for those rare London days when the weather permits outdoor drinking - though let's be honest, we'll sit out there in the rain too, because we're British and that's what we do.

Price-wise, it sits in that comfortable middle ground where you won't need to remortgage your house for a round, but you're not getting suspiciously cheap deals either. The quality matches the cost, which is about all you can ask for in zones 1-2 these days.

They've made the wise decision to allow dogs, which adds an element of chaos and charm that helps prevent the place from taking itself too seriously. There's something about watching a French bulldog waddle past a carefully curated vintage mirror that keeps everyone honest.

The Prince Arthur has positioned itself perfectly in its slice of London - close enough to the action to be convenient, but just far enough off the main drag to avoid the worst of the Shoreditch weekend warriors. It's the kind of place that makes you consider becoming a regular, despite your best cynical intentions.

For those seeking it out, you'll find the Prince Arthur tucked away behind Old Street Station, doing its best impression of a proper London pub while actually being one. Make a booking if you're planning to come with a group - it's popular enough to warrant it, especially during peak hours. And yes, I'm annoyed at having to admit this, but it's worth the visit. Just don't tell them I sent you.