You don’t go for the food. You go for the vibe. It’s a pub that refuses to be modern. No WiFi. No bright lights. Just booze and history.
Sit in the corner. Touch the wood. It’s stained with centuries of spilled ale. You are touching the 17th century. That’s wild.
Beware the toilets. They are in the basement. A dark, narrow spiral staircase leads down. It’s like entering a dungeon. But with hand soap.
The Real Fun Fact
The pub has a resident “cellar book.” A log of every beer ever served. It’s a history of British brewing. And a record of terrible hangovers.
On the wall, there’s a framed letter. It’s from the Boston Tea Party participants? No. It’s from a drunk writer apologizing for a bar fight. Seriously.
This pub is a survivor. The Great Fire. The Blitz. The 1980s. It’s still here. Drinking ale. Waiting for you.
