Walworth pubs
Glimmers of a much older London remain in Walworth's lively markets, grubby streets and heroically down-at-heel taverns.
The Beaten Path, 267 Walworth Road, SE17 1RL
Fair-sized, wooden and cheerful, with side booths for those who value their privacy. Almost the only place to get a pint of real ale between the Elephant and Camberwell.
Reviewed by Fred Flange, Feb 2007
Telephone: 020 7708 0392
Nearest station: Kennington, Zone 2 (650 metres)
The Good Intent, 24 East Street, SE17 2DN
Photo provided by
Graeme Dawes
Reviewed by Doogal Bell, Feb 2011
They don't make pubs like this any more. A proper Irish local populated by scary old men and some scarier young ones, with so much cigarette smoking going on its like the Great Fire of London never went out. Tatty and run down, it nonetheless hasn't resorted to abandoning its regulars in the hope of drawing in the young trendy folks, those with large disposable incomes and a tendency to think they're much better than they actually are. And so while I can't actually recommend it, there's a part of me that admires it for sticking to its roots, and at least I found it a comfortable place to drink, something I couldn't say about most trendy lounge-style gafs.
Reviewed by Fred Flange, Feb 2007
Telephone: 020 7740 6755
Nearest station: Kennington, Zone 2 (780 metres)
The Mason's Arms, 109 East Street, Walworth, SE17 2SB
A forbidding Victorian giant standing at the top of East Street market, all crumbling plaster and fading paintwork. I was intrigued by the claim on the outside wall that it offered toning and sun beds, imagining the inside to be a mixture between a traditional pub and the mysteriously popular Tanning Shop chain. Sadly, the sign seemed to be a ploy to bamboozle the unwary, as inside there was no hint of sun beds, or their attendant local beauties frazzling themselves to a nice shade of bacon. In fact, the whole place was steeped in the sort of festering gloom that wouldn't have been out of place in a Samuel Beckett play. Peering through the murk, it seemed that many of the clientele, far from spending their evenings languishing on pub sun beds, had complexions that made Gollum look like a bronzed Adonis. Settling in after my initial disappointment, I soon realized that I was in Pub Hell. Some blokes played pool. Other stared at their pints. Rather than the convivial sound of conversation, a sepulchral silence reigned. The decor seemed to be based on a bar for officers in a penal colony. To describe the Mason's Arms as grim would be to understate an atmosphere bleaker than Pluto after it had its planetary status revoked, and any fun that might have been going on would require an electron telescope in order to be discovered. Apparently Charlie Chaplin was born just a few doors down the street; and it may be worth speculating what part this hideous pub may have played in his decision to emigrate.
Reviewed by Fred Flange, Mar 2007
Telephone: 020 7703 2135
Nearest station: Elephant & Castle, Zone 1,2 (1000 metres)
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