A love letter to the great British pub
There's a reason the British public mourned the loss of the pub during lockdown. As many begin to reopen, we celebrate some of London's finest...
Foreword by James Blunt; Co-owner of The Fox & Pheasant, Chelsea.
We gathered in large numbers, from different schools, on the street outside The Admiral Cod. We were all underage, as far as I can remember, and most had managed to get served. But the excitement was in the gathering. Cars struggled to get past, and to this day, I’m unsure how the pub managed to keep its licence.
For us, it was the start of the summer holidays, of a close relationship with each other as friends — and with pubs as a whole. Tell me a name, and I’ll have a memory. From The Goat in Boots, The Ifield, The Cadogan, The Shuckburgh, The Man in the Moon, The Black Bull, The Bush in Ovington or the Oyster Catcher in Rock — these are where I met my friends. Not met up with them. Met them, for the first time — and I have kept those friends to this day.
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