The Old Justice

Just what London needs - another "authentic" pub claiming to restore some mythical golden age of British drinking culture. The Old Justice in Bermondsey had me rolling my eyes before I even crossed the threshold. After all, how many times can we romanticize wood paneling and leaded windows before admitting we're all just chasing an idealized past that never existed?

And yet, damn it all, The Old Justice is actually good. Really good. The kind of good that makes a cynical reviewer question whether they've become too jaded for their own good. I blame the Guinness - it's poured with the kind of reverence usually reserved for religious ceremonies, taking the full 119.5 seconds (yes, I timed it) to achieve that perfect cascade of tiny bubbles. The barkeep actually apologized to a rushed patron for not hurrying the process. In London. In 2025. I nearly fainted.

The space itself refuses to pander to Instagram-friendly pub renovation trends. No Edison bulbs. No exposed brick painted stark white. No clipboard-wielding hosts wearing suspenders without irony. Instead, The Old Justice offers two simple rooms that feel lived-in rather than curated. The wooden tables bear honest scratches from decades of pint glasses, and the stools wobble just enough to remind you this isn't some corporate-engineered "authentic pub experience."

Let's talk about the beer selection, because it manages to thread an impossible needle. You've got your craft options for the beard-stroking hop enthusiasts, but they haven't let the pendulum swing so far that your granddad can't get his preferred bitter. The rotating taps suggest someone behind the bar actually gives a damn about what they're serving, rather than just stocking whatever the distributor is pushing this month.

The real surprise comes when you realize this place has actual personality. On any given evening, you might find a local band practicing in one corner while a heated football match plays silently in another. There's a pub quiz that somehow avoids the usual tedium of pub quizzes (miracle of miracles), and the regulars haven't formed those intimidating clusters that make newcomers feel like they've wandered into someone's private living room.

They've even managed to crack the seemingly impossible code of hiring staff who appear to genuinely enjoy their jobs. In a city where bartender surliness is practically an art form, the folks behind the bar at The Old Justice engage in actual conversation. Not the forced "how's your day going?" variety, but genuine human interaction. I'm still not entirely convinced they're not actors.

The outdoor seating area isn't trying to be a Parisian café or a Berlin beer garden - it's just some tables where you can sit outside with your drink when London's weather occasionally cooperates. There's something refreshingly honest about that. They'll let your dog join you too, assuming your four-legged friend maintains a reasonable level of decorum.

For those interested in the practical details: they take cards (including contactless), the bathrooms are actually clean (a shocking development in pub culture), and yes, you can reserve tables for larger groups. They've partnered with Yard Sale Pizza for food, which is a damn sight better than defrosted pub grub, even if it means admitting that sometimes change is good.

Look, I didn't want to like The Old Justice. I've made a career out of puncturing the pretensions of London's drinking establishments. But this place has managed to be everything a proper pub should be without turning into a theme park version of itself. It's the kind of spot where you can actually hear yourself think while simultaneously not feeling weird about laughing too loudly.

So here I am, eating crow and washing it down with a perfectly poured pint in Bermondsey. The Old Justice isn't trying to reinvent the wheel - it's just keeping it perfectly round and rolling smoothly. If you're in London and looking for a pub that remembers what pubs are actually for, drag yourself to The Old Justice. Just don't tell them I sent you. I've got a reputation to maintain.