Surely one of the world’s most well-known brands is Guinness. With its iconic posters and unique tick-follows-tock TV advertising, it’s really taken the world by storm. Famed all over the globe for its clean, bitter taste and smooth black appearance with a creamy white head, it’s a beer that is as Irish as a leprechaun doing a jig to a Boyzone classic, right? Well… not quite. Many people don’t know that Guinness has an older brother, which goes by the name of Porter. This London stout never got the same snazzy marketing campaigns or international acclaim. No, Porter is like the older sibling that stayed at home with mum (and, you know, with all the true stout connoisseurs) whilst baby brother went gallivanting off on a gap year and never came back.
Porter was brewed in London from the early 1700s. It quickly became popular with London’s dock workers and market porters. Not only was it a tasty drink, it was also full of malt which contained plenty of calories for the hard dock labour. In 1776, a now rather well-known heavyweight of brewing visited London: Arthur Guinness. On this trip, he discovered Porter. He quite probably sampled it at one of the several pubs around Smithfield market, where you’d be served it at lunchtime, dinnertime, or, indeed with breakfast. On tasting it, Arthur realised, he rather liked it. He managed to get hold of the recipe and returned to Ireland to start his very own version. Transported from the ports of London to the ports of Ireland for all the porters to drink, the Irish version of Porter beer was called… Guinness.
By the mid-19thcentury, Guinness was a very popular drink in Ireland, but it had yet to take off in the rest of the British Isles. In London, particularly, a population living next to the filthy Thames had started to become aware of the dangers of dirty water. With this, a new trend for clearer ales and lagers took off, as Londoners became more suspicious of just what went into dark, opaque stouts. The clearer and cleaner the beer, the better it was. Porter’s sales went into decline.
Now, of course, Guinness is hugely popular in London and, indeed, bitters, craft ales and stouts seem to be back with a bang (we just try to avoid thinking of the Thames when drinking them!) CAMRA (The campaign for real ale) in the 1990s helped to promote the various flavours and varieties of beers and saw us begin to turn our backs on blander lagers. Today, a new craft beer house and independent brewery trend is taking London by storm, and, with it, even Porter is making a comeback. It’s stocked in many Fuller’s pubs and although it’s still not as famous as Guinness, maybe that cheeky little Irish brother should watch its back. The good ol’ traditional London stout is on the rise! And given the fact that Mr. Guinness slightly ripped off this British recipe, I’d say Porter has every right to feel a little bitter.
If you are ever stuck waiting for a delayed train at Liverpool Street, head off Bishopsgate into St Botolph’s churchyard and you’ll discover a very Victorian Turkish delight. Once a well-known name amongst wealthy Londoners, Nevill’s Turkish baths were theplace for any discerning City worker to take some respite from their hectic schedules. Relaxing in one of London’s bathhouses was a very popular pastime and Nevill’s was a particularly respected establishment. St Botoloph’s is the home to one of this popular chain’s most opulent buildings, and it remains beautifully intact, 120 years after it first opened.
As soon as you turn off Bishopsgate, you spot some intricate mosaic patterns glinting in the distance. If you didn’t know better, you might mistake this small kiosk-like churchyard building or the most elaborate gardener’s shed you’ve ever seen. Exotic Arabic patterns, colourful stained glass windows and an Ottoman minaret, complete with dome and crescent moon makes an incongruous sight. In fact, this fascinating building was the decorative grand entrance hall to a subterranean gentleman’s spa, opened here in 1895 as the fifth in Nevill’s chain of Turkish baths.
There’s something truly mysterious about this impressive structure. In many ways, it’s not hard to imagine passing through it and descending into an underworld maze of showers, baths and caldaria. It’s almost a magical portal – think Alice in Wonderland or Mr Benn – that would have taken its City gentlemen patrons into a world of exotic shampoos, ouds and medicines, including a dry Turkish sauna and a rose-scented shower. The décor inside would have equally fitted with the Middle Eastern theme, Arabic mosaics, marble floors and Persian rugs – pure, pure luxury. Breathing in these exotic scents and going through traditional spa bathing and massaging rituals wasn’t just seen as fun, it was also considered medicinal. Nevill’s were marketing gurus of their day, promising “strength, health, beauty” on their pamphlets, which also featured testimonials from medical professionals, lauding the health benefits of spas and declaring Nevill’s as a cure for everything from skin rashes to the common cold. Think of a filthy, polluted Dickensian London and it’s no wonder Nevill’s Turkish bath felt like a healthy, underground oasis to escape from the dirty metropolis above.
By the 1950s, the popularity of this pastime was in decline and Nevill’s closed their doors. Thankfully, the stunning St Botolph’s location gained Grade II listed status and remains for all to see today. Throughout the second half of the 20thcentury, a few restaurants and nightclubs set up shop here and it is currently a luxury cocktail bar called The Victorian Bathhouse, Bishopsgate. Keeping much of the spa’s original interiors, and also boasting a “Victoriana menu with a modern twist,” it’s truly a bar like no other. From both the outside and the inside, this building is well worth checking out. It’s a fascinating glimpse into a hobby of Londoners from a bygone era; a look at a Turkish haven that seems incongruous in a City churchyard. Saying that, it must be one of the most beautiful sore thumbs in London!
Coutours can create private and bespoke tours of London to include such hidden gems as the Turkish bathhouse and other oddities.
Hidden down a small alleyway just off Cable Street in Shadwell sits a building that is something of a time capsule, ready to transport you to the London of days gone by. Indeed, the magical Wilton’s Music Hall is something you really have to see to believe. This atmospheric slice of Victoriana is an authentic celebration of the East End’s musical heritage. This building once housed one of London’s most popular music halls over 150 years ago and has been re-opened today to host many a modern, and many a good old-fashioned, London knees-up.
The quintessential London music hall was a mix of the cultures of the East End’s Yiddish Musical Theatres and traditional working men’s pubs. By the 1850s, the pub was the go-to social destination for London’s working classes, and, a few beers later, often turned into a good old drunken singalong. This trend led to music hall venues being built that were more specifically designed for both performers and punters to drink, sing and dance. They were larger than pubs, often with a stage at the front, but, although they may have looked somewhat like a theatre, the atmosphere was vastly different. Food and drink were served for people to enjoy during the performance. It was a chatty, convivial, singalong atmosphere, far from the prissy theatres of the West End. Music halls were a working class and East End pastime, through and through. So raucous were they, that they often included single-galleried balconies for single ladies to stay away from the drunken rabble below. These creative places were the birthplace of many catchy, innuendo-ridden songs we still know today, from “Don’t Dilly Dally On The Way” to “Any Old Iron”. Many would say the fun-loving, fast-paced, quick-witted nature of the entertainers at these establishments gave birth to a quintessentially British form of variety entertainment. Music halls remained popular in the East End right through until the 1960s, and with subsequent nightlife trends being European ballroom dance halls, American discos and now international-feeling super-clubs, perhaps it could be said that they are the last uniquely British form of nightlife.
The ground on which Wilton’s stands was originally used for an alehouse in the 18thcentury, before becoming a saloon bar with a concert space. When it was eventually opened as a music hall in 1859, its popularity took off almost immediately. It was jam-packed with over 1000 punters, drinking, smoking and dancing the night away. They would queue around the block for the chance to see some of the top showbiz names of the time. In its heyday, it played host to George Ware, who wrote “The Boy I Love Is Up In The Gallery” and George Leybourne, who wrote “Champagne Charlie”. Despite its popularity, by 1881, it had sadly fallen into disrepair.
However, the beautiful musical hall of a bygone era has returned in its original building in Shadwell. Its period nineteenth-century cast-iron pillars and galleried balcony remain intact, making it a truly special sight to behold. The original features are complemented by a range of Victorian-style décor, including intricate woodwork and glamorous but faded chandeliers, all in keeping with the down at heel 19thcentury feel. It’s all very shabby chic, which only adds to its mysterious charm – you can almost hear “A Long Way To Tipperary” echoing off the walls. Indeed, sometimes you can, as Wilton’s Music Hall continues to host plenty of old school knees-up singalong events, as part of their diverse schedule of theatre, music and cabaret. So stick on your whistle n flute, warm up your Hobson’s choice and get on down to Wilton’s and sing along to the Old Joanna for a truly unforgettable East End experience.
It’s Sunday morning. You’re in Shoreditch or Bethnal Green or Hackney. And, all of a sudden, you start to spot a little trend. A cactus in a coat pocket. Some tiger lilies pouring out of a tote bag, some blooming buddleias brimming over a bicycle basket. Ah, yes, it must be Columbia Road Flower Market day.
Every Sunday, just off Hackney Road, this usually peaceful street is jam-packed full of locals and tourists, scouting out a floral bargain. It’s a real sensual overload – of course the scents of trees and herbs, the colours of blooms and buds and the sounds of the market traders bantering and bartering away and the punters cooing at the beauty that surrounds them. Seasonal flowers, trees, shrubs, herbs and bushes go on sale first thing in the morning, and, it’s all over by 3pm. Come at 4pm and you’ve missed it. It’s all deserted again. With a short day like that, you can see why it feels like a rush, with everyone trying to make a deal before trading’s up.
If flowers aren’t really your bag, this market is still well worth a visit. Columbia Road is lined with 60 independent retailers, selling a range of wares. There’s vintage fashion at Glitterati, antique furniture at Two Columbia Road and quirky gifts at Dandy Star. There are also art galleries, casual cafés and, naturally as this is the East End, there’s also a pub or two. If you need a snack for all your flowery, arty, gifty perusing, try Lee’s Seafoods, which has been serving fish here since the Second World War.
Of course, I wouldn’t be doing my due diligence as a tour guide, if I didn’t point out a bit of interesting history on this street. Columbia Road had humble beginnings as a simple path for farmers and their sheep, traipsing from the rural East End towards the slaughterhouses of Smithfields. It became famous in the 1830s thanks to an even more gruesome story. It was the address of the London Burkers, an infamous gang that would dig up bodies just after they’d been buried in order to sell them to hospitals for medical studies. In fact, on this street, then called Novia Scotia Gardens, they even went one step further and committed several murders. Their crimes gained this road true notoriety in London at the time – so much so that people even visited it as a tourist destination! The police charged 5 shillings for entrance into their house, where, naturally, there was even a gift shop. Charming!
Throughout the first half of the 19thcentury, the street fell into disrepair and became one of the East End’s many slums. On seeing the poverty here in the 1860s, the philanthropist, Angela Burdett-Coutts decided to do something about it. She started a project to build social housing here and, rather than kick out the residents as some similar projects of the time had done, she also founded a market here, to give them the chance to earn a living. Burdett Coutts endowed the Bishopric of British Columbia, so the road was named in honour of her. By the end of the century, this area had a large Jewish population, so the market’s trading day was moved to Sunday instead of Saturday. The Saturday traders from Covent Garden flower market saw a new opportunity to sell their leftovers for bargain prices in the East End on Sunday in Columbia Road. And that’s how it came to be what it is today. So, there you go, now you have something to tell your friends about and to look all knowing on your next visit, when you’re knee-deep in roses and hydrangeas. Why not give Columbia Road Flower Market a visit this Sunday?
Coutours offers private tours of the East End’s markets including Columbia Road, Spitalfields, Brick Lane and Petticoat Lane.
Sitting pretty above the market fashionistas and the pub revellers around Spitalfields and Brick Lane, you’ll notice some beautiful architectural details that tell you you’re in East London’s old French Quarter. It’s well worth taking a moment to look up and gaze at the stunning 17thcentury houses and to ponder on the fascinating historical stories they hold.
In 1685, Louis XIV decided to revoke the Edict of Nantes, which, since its introduction in the late 16thcentury, had given protection to Protestants worshipping in France. A new wave of intolerance spread across the country and French protestant Huguenots fled to find religious refuge in places as far and wide as Germany, the Netherlands, America and South Africa. Many of them wound up in the relatively tolerant East End of London, particularly in the area known as Spitalfields. Thousands of French Huguenots settled here in the late 17thcentury, bringing with them a brand new trade: silk weaving.
They fled France quickly and arrived with very little but they soon managed to trade thanks to their silk weaving skills. Situated just outside London’s city wall, they were close to the rich City workers and began making money from their high-quality silk. Within a few decades, many of the most successful weavers were able to build the beautiful town houses which now surround Spitalfields. Just take a look around Elder Street, Fournier Street and Princelet Street to see the architecture that characterises this small part of the East End that seemingly overnight became very wealthy and sophisticated.
These tall, imposing working houses (with workshops for looms on the top floors) were built with several impressive features, including grand entrances and charming shuttered windows. The most beguiling feature of these houses, however, is a little bit harder to spot: tiny 2.5-cm-tall heads used as to keep the shutters in place when they were open. They were installed in these houses from the 1720s onwards and all seem to have their own stories and personalities, from a man in a turban to a few genteel ladies in bonnets. When you see them, you can’t help but smile. And if you can’t spot them, you’ll have to come on one of my tours for me to point them out!
These faces have witnessed a lot in this area over the centuries. New technologies and trade agreements made the Huguenots’ East End silk business less profitable from the mid-19thcentury, forcing them to move elsewhere. They were replaced by new immigrants from various parts of Europe, most notably those fleeing the potato famine in Ireland and those fleeing religious persecution in Poland and Russia. Homes that once housed one family and some workers now housed several Jewish families at once – sometimes one family per room, rather than one family per house. It was a dangerous place at this time – perhaps these heads even caught a glimpse of Jack The Ripper. After 1945, this area became a largely Bangladeshi area as Brick Lane became the restaurant hub we know today. Now, of course it’s all about a wealthy new generation of artists and coffee lovers in these parts, as these roads fill up with trendy cafés and vibrant street art. The heads on the buildings of the East End’s French quarter are sitting pretty, silently watching the area as it continues to change. Next time you cross their paths, be sure to look over and give them a nod.
Whilst all the Instagrammers and Snapchatters are gramming and snapping their way up and down Brick Lane, capturing a whole host of vibrant street art created in the last few years, they are all missing a rather older piece of street art just around the corner. Just by Spitalfields market, above Honest Burger on Widegate Street, sits a piece of art with an interesting historical story – four sculptures of some busy East End bakers.
The streets around this area, like Artillery Passage and Widegate Street, are often packed full of night time revellers and daytime Jack The Ripper tourists, but if you stop and look up, you realise you are walking through a truly beautiful time capsule. Long before Honest Burger and Simmons Cocktail Bar were here, these nooks and crannies were host to many a business with many a story. The four ceramic reliefs of bakers tell just one of them.
At the turn of the 20thcentury, this area was largely Jewish and was home to several Jewish bakeries. The four bakers, which adorn Honest Burger today, mark the location of one of the most famous, the Nordheim Model Bakery, which rustled up beigels and other Jewish delights for those who lived in the surrounding alleyways and beyond. These glazed ceramic reliefs were installed in 1926 and were made by Poole Pottery. They were designed by an artist named Philip Lindsey Clark and they demonstrate the four stages of the bread-making process.
These fascinating sculptures, however, also came with their fair share of controversy. Many felt that they did not simply depict bakers innocently going about their daily baking, but were rather subtly hinting at religious persuasions – and not Jewish ones. Clark, who later became a Carmelite monk, often referenced religious iconography in his work and many thought that these pieces were no different. Many noted that the baker carrying bags of flour is in a pose similar to that of Jesus carrying the cross. Indeed, the bread itself was also criticised as looking far less Jewish and Eastern European, but rather more English. These bakers seem to be preparing soft, bouncy cottage loaves, not traditional Jewish unleven bread, as the Nordheim would have done. In a period where there was enormous tensions between different populations in the East End, this piece of art was actually covered up and hidden, due to the controversy it caused.
Take a moment to stop on Widegate Street and look up at the bakers busily working away. This piece of art serves as a reminder of the Jewish populations that have made this area their home at different points in history. Many Portuguese Sephardic Jews settled here in the 17thcentury and, more recently, in the late 19thand early 20thcentury, many Polish and Russian Jews lived here. Their legacy can be felt all around, in bakeries, such as Beigel Bake and Rinkoff’s, the fascinating Secret Synagogue and also from the fact that Petticoat Lane is a Sunday market, rather Saturday one – the Jews working here couldn’t work or shop on Saturdays. The wonderful piece of historical street art depicting the Nordheim Model Bakers is another, slightly more secret, reminder of the Jewish history here – even if these bakers aren’t particularly Jewish at all.
Well, well, well. If you think of stopping for lunch around Brick Lane, you might think bagel or you might think curry, but, would you think… “I know, I’ll stop for some afternoon tea and some cat stroking?” Well, that option is open to you too. If you like tea and you like felines, Lady Dinah’s Cat Emporium is the perfect place for you. This English tearoom, situated on Bethnal Green Road, just near the top of Brick Lane, is named after Alice’s cat in Alice in Wonderland and is one of the most unique places to stop for a cuppa in London.
The world’s first cat café opened its doors in Taipei in 1998 and became quite the tourist destination. It was particularly popular with Japanese visitors and the concept was eventually adopted and replicated, first in Osaka, then all over Japan. Many Japanese pet-loving city dwellers are not allowed to keep animals in their small apartments (where there’s not much room to swing a cat, ba dum tsss) and so the cat café concept really took off. In other big world cities, where many people rent small flats, cat cafés have also been opened, so… it was only a matter of time before the idea came to London. Lady Dinah’s opened in 2014, to huge media attention. It’s fully booked on most weekends and it’s quite a unique experience. Let’s just say you can take the concept out of Japan, but…
This place is cat crazy, complete with waiting staff wearing cat ears. There are up to 11 cats which just go about being cats around you whilst you eat your soup or croissant and drink your tea or coffee. They play, sleep and mooch about, as cats do, and you are free to play with them. If you don’t want to order food or drink, you can also pay a small fee to simply sit and watch and play. Pets help lower blood pressure and reduce stress, so it’s a great place for a bit of relaxation. The animals are well looked after. There are trained members of staff around to check they are not over petted and also to ensure they are given breaks when needed. Lady Dinah’s Cat Emporium is a weird and wonderful place to while away an afternoon, eating like a fat cat, posing like a hipster cool cat and really feeling like the cat that got the cream tea.
For further information, simply visit: http://ladydinahs.com
There’s been much development in Britons’ opinion of chocolate over the last few years. Tastes are changing; gourmet chocolate shops are popping up all over London and we are getting a taste for dark, high cocoa content. In fact, it seems the darker the better. These are far off the days when we were obsessed with a cheeky Curly Wurly or a huge slab of Dairy Milk. Not so long ago, chocolate was considered one of the unhealthiest snacks possible, but it seems we don’t judge it quite so harshly these days. Whilst the sales of sugary milk chocolates are dipping, gourmet dark chocolates, eaten in small quantities are on the rise, even to the point of them being considered a healthy option. And it wouldn’t be the first time. When chocolate originally arrived on our shores, it was considered a healthy superfood. Is it on its way back up the health charts again?
All over Europe, people have been obsessed with chocolate ever since it was introduced from the New World in the 16thcentury. It was a Frenchman who first put it on general sale in London, in the form of a drink. He opened a chocolate house in the East End in 1657 and, after promoting it as a healthy beverage, Londoners were pouring in through the doors and simply couldn’t get enough. He marketed it as an exotic health food that would solve many a problem – it would help digestion, reverse ageing, cure a hangover and was even a rather potent aphrodisiac. “Sign us up!” said London.
It reached a broader audience through coffee houses, a haunt of London’s intelligentsia, where a new recipe took off. It was made to be less bitter by adding milk, which also made it cheaper. As time passed, typical Brits, we butchered the recipe more and more. I’m sure the French were tutting away, as we chucked in some eggs, added a bit of cinnamon, tried a bit of vanilla and then doused it with sugar. These recipe changes were spearheaded by a man named Sir Hans Sloane, who became obsessed with chocolate on a trip to Jamaica. And, once he’d made it more popular with all the milk and all the sugar, alas, those health benefits seemed to somewhat dwindle.
Chocolate was first produced as a bar in 1847 by Joseph Fry and this is where the mass popularity of chocolate began. The most expensive ingredient in Britain was cocoa, so the reduced cocoa mass and added milk and sugar, made the product cheaper and cheaper. London’s oldest surviving chocolate brand is Charbonnel et Walker, which holds the Royal Warrant and is the Queen’s personal favourite. They’ve been producing a huge range of interesting flavour combinations since 1875. They make dark, milk and white chocolates, but, their most popular recent concoction is the Marc de Champagne truffle – with a very sweet, pale pink coating. I guess we’re not all in love with the new healthy bitter chocolate trend then!
If you’d like to have a walk around London and muse on our mixed relationship with the sweet stuff and changing tastes in chocolate throughout history, why not head to Chelsea Physic Garden near The King’s Road? This botanical garden was built on land donated by Sir Hans Sloane, the man who popularised milk chocolate in London. Then, after all that thinking, you probably deserve to stop off in Rococo’s first shop on The King’s Road for a few healthy, or not so healthy, samples.
Look out over the Thames at low tide and you’ll spot something that gives a real insight into the foodie history of our great city: oyster shells. Londoners have been munching away on oysters for nearly 2000 years, ever since the Romans introduced us to the custom. Today they may be considered a dish for the wealthy, but this wasn’t always the case, and these discarded shells tell the story of London’s original working man’s street food.
The Roman capital of England was Camulodunum, now Colchester. Here, the Romans began to farm oysters. Indeed, they enjoyed English oysters so much, they would even pack them in ice and ship them back to Rome as gifts. A British Roman seaside delicacy, you know, an old school version of a … stick of rock. Today, Colchester and Mersea oysters continue to be considered amongst the finest in the world. On my Secret History of Street Food walk, we visit Richard Haward, a seventh generation oysterman from Mersea, who brings oysters and clams to London every day. We sample some of his delicious wares by stopping in at his stall in Borough Market.
Perhaps, for most, the image conjured up by oysters is that of the glamorous 1920s. The young, trendy crowd using oysters and champagne to fuel their parties and their libidos. Indeed, Cassanova ate 50 oysters every day for breakfast. However, oysters weren’t always the food of the rich. Until as recently as the mid-19thcentury, they were in plentiful supply in the Thames and were easy to farm, so, they were very cheap. They were eaten as snacks on the riverside, their shells serving as handy little plates. As more and more industrial waste began pouring into the river, it became increasingly polluted, which saw the oyster population begin to dwindle. Later, during the World Wars, when beaches were often off limits and many boats were taken to be used in the war effort, the oyster beds were no longer tended to. Oysters became rarer, pricier and… what do you know? Suddenly more fashionable!
Today, oyster numbers have increased again and are gaining in popularity and not just at champagne parties. If you’ve never risked one, I’d highly recommend you give them a try. Native oysters are better eaten in cooler months (September to April), which is when they thrive. There’s also a non-native oyster in British seas called a rock oyster, which can be enjoyed all year round. So, how do you eat one? Well, generally a small squeeze of lemon juice or a little splash of shallot vinegar will help to bring out the flavour, and they should be chewed. It’s all very simple. But if you’re still not sure, perhaps you should join my Secret History of Street Food tour and we can try a Mersea oyster together. And you can trust me… I’m a Colchester girl myself.
If I’d put you in a blindfold and taken you straight to the middle of Lauriston Road, you wouldn’t believe you were in London. With a quaint redbrick church, a tranquil countryside vibe and a luscious green landscape surrounding you, you’d feel like you were in a small English village. And indeed, you would be. South Hackney is home to the calm, leafy area known as Victoria Park Village. It’s that Vicar of Dibley feel, in the heart of London’s East End – and it’s well worth a visit.
This charming little oasis of calm is the perfect place to spend a sleepy Sunday. It boasts a handful of independent cafés and restaurants and a row of the types of local shops you’d expect of any village – a butcher, a florist and a bookshop. Don’t worry though – after a coffee and stroll around the shops, there are also plenty of pubs for a Sunday pint or three. As the name suggests, it’s also right next to Victoria Park, one of London’s most beautiful parks, which has its very own fascinating little-known history.
It was opened in 1845 and became somewhat of a border between the working classes living in Bethnal Green and the slightly more upmarket Hackney. It was known as the People’s Park and was a key location used by Suffragettes and other activists for gatherings of the masses, playing host to many rallies and speeches. During World War 2, it was put to use as an allotment for growing vegetables and as a base for anti aircraft or Ack Ack guns.
Compared to the rest of the East End, the village in South Hackney always had a better quality of Victorian housing, aimed at the middle classes. It was also lucky enough to avoid significant damage during The Blitz. These two facts are probably what allowed it to escape the 1960s regeneration projects that have given much its neighbouring districts rather generic, unappealing high-rise blocks of flats. This, in combination with a lot of hard work and dedication from the locals, have allowed Victoria Park Village to keep its hamlet-like atmosphere and right now, business seems to be booming… in a calm villagey way, of course.
So, you don’t have to venture out of London to feel like you’ve had a bit of a countryside rest bite. Go for a brisk walk in Victoria Park, before stopping off in the village for some of their wonderful shops, like the butcher’s The Ginger Pig, the wine specialists, Bottle Apostle and the quirky gift shop, M.E.G. After all that walking, you’ll need a good old traditional East End pub pit stop, so choose from The Lauriston, The Royal Inn on the Park, The Village Tap or The Empress. Even though that’s a lot of walking, shopping and drinking, somehow the atmosphere here means that time just moves at a more leisurely pace. A day out here makes for the ideal lazy London Sunday.
Emma Parker and Shaamar Samuel