The Archway Tavern

Just what North London needed - another "historic" pub trying to coast on Victorian-era credentials. The Archway Tavern in London stands like a weathered sentinel at its namesake intersection, daring you to judge its worn facade and promising all the usual pub clichés. I arrived fully prepared to pen another scathing critique of London's declining pub scene. Spoiler alert: I left considerably less cynical than I arrived.

Let's address the elephant in the room - yes, it's housed in a building that could desperately use a loving restoration. But there's something genuinely charming about how The Archway Tavern wears its age like a badge of honor rather than trying to sanitize itself into another characterless gastropub. The huge windows flood the space with natural light, which either bravely or foolishly exposes every crack and crevice to scrutiny. Somehow, it works.

The drink selection initially struck me as suspiciously mainstream - your standard array of lagers and ales that wouldn't raise eyebrows in any London pub. But here's where things got interesting. The bartenders (who possess that rare combination of actual competence and personality) know their craft. When I challenged one with an obscure cocktail request, expecting the usual blank stare, he not only knew it but executed it perfectly. It's like finding out your grumpy uncle secretly speaks four languages.

The pricing sits squarely in that London sweet spot where it's not cheap enough to make you suspicious but not expensive enough to trigger a cost-of-living crisis existential breakdown. You'll pay typical North London rates for your pints - which means you'll complain about it, but you'll still order another round.

What truly sets The Archway Tavern apart from London's endless parade of mediocre boozers is its steadfast refusal to jump on every passing trend. While other pubs scramble to become Instagram-worthy brunch spots or craft beer emporiums, this place knows exactly what it is: a proper pub that happens to do everything just a bit better than it needs to.

The dog-friendly policy means you'll likely share space with various four-legged patrons, which, frankly, often prove more charming than their human counterparts. The outdoor seating area, while not exactly the Riviera, provides prime people-watching opportunities of the endlessly entertaining Archway intersection.

Their events calendar deserves special mention. The open mic nights and karaoke sessions should be terrible - they have all the ingredients for peak cringe. Yet somehow, the pub's natural unpretentiousness makes these evenings genuinely entertaining. There's something wonderfully authentic about watching aspiring musicians test their mettle in a space that's seen it all before.

The crowd defies easy categorization, which in London's increasingly demographically segregated pub scene, feels refreshing. You'll find everyone from old-timers nursing their regular pints to young professionals escaping their overpriced flat shares, all coexisting in remarkably peaceful harmony. It's like a United Nations of pub-goers, if the UN served decent beer and occasionally broke into spontaneous singing.

Yes, there are points of contention. The lack of clearly displayed drink prices is an annoying oversight that needs addressing. And yes, sometimes the service can move at a pace that suggests they're operating in a different timezone. But these feel like authentic quirks rather than deal-breakers.

For those seeking The Archway Tavern, it's impossible to miss - it's the imposing Victorian building right by Archway station that looks like it's been there since the dawn of time (and probably has). Whether you're a North London local or a curious visitor, you'll find something here worth your time. And trust me, it pains me slightly to admit that.

Go for the drinks, stay for the atmosphere, and return because, despite your best efforts to maintain your cynicism, The Archway Tavern will probably become your local. Just don't tell them I sent you - I have a reputation as a critic to maintain, and admitting I actually like a place could ruin me.