The Tap on the Line, Kew

Just what London needs - another railway-adjacent pub trying to convince us it's not just a convenient spot to kill time between trains. The Tap on the Line in Kew sits smugly beside the station, practically daring you to dismiss it as just another platform-side watering hole. And honestly, I wanted to. The name alone feels like it was conjured up during a particularly uninspired marketing meeting.

But damn it all if this place hasn't wormed its way into my cynical heart like an unwanted but ultimately charming houseguest. Perhaps it's the way sunlight streams through those absurdly large Victorian windows, casting an almost theatrical glow across the polished wood floors. Or maybe it's the staff, who manage to be genuinely helpful without that artificial cheeriness that makes you want to flee into the nearest Underground tunnel.

The interior strikes that infuriatingly perfect balance between historical charm and modern comfort - the kind of space that makes you hate yourself a little for appreciating its carefully curated "authentic pub" aesthetic. Yes, those are original features from its railway-side heritage, and no, I'm not impressed by how well they've preserved them (except I absolutely am).

Let's talk about the food because that's where most station-adjacent establishments typically face-plant into mediocrity. The menu at The Tap on the Line Kew reads like a greatest hits of British pub fare, which initially had me rolling my eyes so hard I could see my own brain. But then the food arrived, and... well, suffice it to say, I've been forced to eat my words along with some surprisingly excellent dishes.

Their sharing platters - which I ordered with the full intention of finding fault - emerge from the kitchen like edible works of art that actually taste as good as they look. The portions are generous enough to make the pricing feel reasonable, which is becoming rarer than a punctual Southern Rail service in London these days.

The drinks selection deserves special mention, if only because it forced me to abandon my "just another pub" narrative. The craft beer rotation shows actual thought rather than just tapping whatever's trending on Instagram. And their wine list? It's curated with the kind of care you'd expect from a proper wine bar, not a station-side pub in Kew.

The outdoor terrace - and I can't believe I'm saying this - is actually worth braving the British weather for. There's something oddly satisfying about sipping a well-pulled pint while watching harried commuters dash for their trains. It's like dinner theater, but with more delayed service announcements and fewer jazz hands.

They've managed to nail the atmosphere too, striking that elusive sweet spot between "lively enough to feel alive" and "quiet enough to hear yourself think." The live music events are carefully curated to avoid the usual painful pub-band scenarios, and the fact that they're dog-friendly means you can at least distract yourself with other people's pets if your conversation runs dry.

What really gets me - and I'm gritting my teeth as I write this - is how they've managed to create a space that works for pretty much everyone. Families with kids during the day, commuters seeking refuge from the rail replacement bus service, couples on dates who actually want to hear each other speak, and groups celebrating special occasions without descending into chaos. It's annoyingly well-thought-out.

Here's the thing about The Tap on the Line in Kew - and I hate that I'm about to write this - it's actually worth making a special trip for, rather than just falling in because your train is delayed. The fact that it's perfectly positioned next to Kew Gardens station is almost irrelevant to its appeal, which is perhaps the highest praise I can give a station pub.

So fine, I admit defeat. Book a table (yes, you actually should book, especially for weekend evenings), take the train to Kew Gardens station, and prepare to be charmed against your will. Just don't blame me when you find yourself becoming one of those irritating people who keeps suggesting it for every social occasion. I've become one of them, and I'm somehow okay with that.