City pubs

The Arbitrager, 27a Throgmorton St, EC2N 2AN

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Sitting in the ground floor bar feels like being stuck in the office of a Furniture Removals company, with all the atmosphere and beer selection this would imply. Blokes yell at each other while laying down a thick, poisonous carpet of toxic smog from their fag ends. The downstairs is slightly more pub-like, involving such daring and poncey concepts as decoration and darkness, but it ultimately does little to allieviate the sense of crushing tedium.

The Banker, 2 Cousin Lane, EC4R 3TE

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Not a name that inspires much hope, but after swimming through the thick soup of car fumes on Lower Thames Street, then veering down the canyon-like walk by the side of Cannon Street Station, there isn’t much else to do but go in. Mercifully, it’s not bad, if you can ignore the gaggle of City suits hanging around outside on sunny days, looking like a particularly drab and clueless flock of flamingos pattering back and forth, edging that bit closer to the river whenever a micro-opportunity for advancement beckons. The innards of the place have been subjected to a pretty decent refit, opening the space up and exposing the brickwork, providing two different mezzanine levels (one looking out over the river) and lots of tables. Being a Fuller’s house it has a range of excellent ales and some alright food, and generally does just about enough to keep me sweet.

The Bell, 29 Bush Lane, EC4R 0AN

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Conveniently located around the corner from Cannon Street Station, this small historic watering hole would be a welcome inclusion in any Circle Line pub crawl. Part of a dying breed of "proper drinking-man's pubs" the banter of the mostly suited lunchtime clientele replaces background music whilst the tobacco stained decor moulders pleasantly in the background

The Bolt Hole, 2a Suffolk Lane, EC4R 0AT

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A red set of doors lead down to a gentrified dungeon. Nice clean brick vaults, any hint of torture scrubbed away by minimum wage contract cleaners, with a wide bar staffed by perky waitresses and a giant selection of expensive wines. Everyone is wearing a suit and drinking white wine. Drinking wine, and staring at me, as if I’ve just plummeted from the moon and am going to say something terrible about organisational psychology or market forces. The low-income lasers failed to take me out at the top of the stairs, and now I’ve broken in and contaminated everything. The whole place is doomed. No draught beers, but some heavy-on-the-pocket ale stuff sold in bottles. Not actually a bad place if you’ve got pockets the size of the QEII, and pretty quiet (especially on a sunny day), but the punters really think they’re something.

Bunch of Grapes, 14 Lime Street, EC3M 7AN

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I am coming to the conclusion that there is an evil scientist at work in this city. He sits in his deep underground lair beneath the city streets cloning crap pubs. The same dcor; dark panelled wood, vomit inducing patterned carpets and curtains; and the same over 40s besuited male drinkers. The Bunch of Grapes falls into this category. Its a bit like Ye Olde Watling not half a mile away except theyve gone a step further and removed all the tables, painted the radiators a poo-brown colour and added a decorative cornice above the bar festooned with grapes. They have Sky TV (sound off) and a jukebox playing just outside the audible range. Very blokey.

The Cartoonist, 76 Shoe Lane, EC4A 3JB

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The Cartoonist occupies the ground and basement floors of a hideous concrete monstrosity near the Shoe Lane library. As its name suggests there are cartoons and satirical sketches all over the walls which are presumably a tribute to the former newspaper industry in nearby Fleet Street. Seating was at a premium upstairs so I ventured down to the basement bar which was totally empty apart from a pool table. As I slowly drank my beer I could feel the will to live slowly ebbing away from me. By the time my lunch finally arrived a small group of lads were playing pool, so at least that provided some meagre entertainment. It also took my mind off the food. The phrase "Gandhi's flip flop" sprang to mind as I tried to chew my burger. My advice to anyone foolish enough to venture in here is to leave immediately, there are plenty of better drinking establishments in the vicinity. It wasn't just pants, it was Rik Waller's y-fronts.

The City Retreat, 74 Shoe Lane, EC4A 3BQ

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Occupying the ground floor of a building spawned in hell by an aficionado of all things concrete, this is definitely not the prettiest pub in London. However the interior has a comforting air of familiarity about it. The vaguely octagonal bar area has all the usual trappings of a traditional pub: dark wood, red anaglypta walllpaper on the ceiling and the sort of patterned carpet which masks all traces of spilt alchohol and vomit. The beer is every bit as good as you would expect in a Youngs pub. The Winter Warmer ale was sublime and did exactly as its name suggested. Low level background music encourages a convivial and relaxing atmosphere.

The Crutched Friar, 39-41 Crutched Friars, EC3N 2AE

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A pub with character! The staff are very friendly and the atmosphere is great. The prices are reasonable and the best thing is that the pub does not become packed after work as most people would probably walk past it.

I would definitely recommend it to groups of people just wanting to go out for a few drinks...

Dirty Dick's, 202 Bishopsgate, EC2M 4NR

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Dirty this isn't. A very well maintained establishment set on several levels. Perhaps slightly too neat and too upmarket to actually have much of a personality, coupled with a transient population of suits, brings a feeling that is somehow less than satisfying.

The Golden Fleece, 8 Queen Street, EC4N 1SP

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This grandiose establishment lies close to the beating heart of the city and is another pub which claims to have survived the ravages of the Great Fire, yet has somehow managed to lose all trace of the 17th Century. The brass chandeliers hanging from the high wood panelled ceilings create a feeling of opulence. Besuited men gravitate towards the centrally positioned horseshoe shaped bar to reinforce the notion that alchohol lubricates the wheels of the corporate city. The attentive bar staff are quick to serve beverages to the thirsty customers. The fact that there is a cigar machine instead of a cigarette machine further illustates the type of clientele which normally frequent this place. A spiral staircase leads downstairs to yet more space which is occupied by comfy chairs, two pool tables and the very clean toilets. On leaving the pub the steps between the bar and the exit are a test for the intoxicated and unwary.

The Hatchet, 28 Garlick Hill, EC4V 2BA

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Within stumbling distance of Mansion House tube, the jolly atmosphere in this traditional pub is the perfect antidote to the manic city streets. The change left over from my pint is accompanied by a beer token. Ten tokens buys a t-shirt and for eighty two tokens you are rewarded with a night on the town with barmy Bez the barman. The man himself suggested that for the bargain price of ten pence I could have a night out with the busty, if slightly reluctant barmaid instead. The charming back room is a sanctuary from the bar bedlam and provides the perfect surroundings to enjoy the reasonably priced pub grub. Definitely one of the better pubs in the square mile.

The Hung Drawn and Quartered, 26-27 Great Tower Street, EC3R 5AQ

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A Fullers pub with a gruesome name. In the old days being hung drawn and quartered was normally reserved for traitors of the realm. The condemned were executed in this way on nearby Tower Hill before having their body parts left as bird food above the gates to the city. Things are a bit more civilised on Tower Hill these days and the only hazard to negotiate are the hoards of tourists. Despite its proximity to the Tower this place has avoided becoming a tourist trap. Pictures of England’s kings and queens adorn the walls but that is it. The food and drink are of a high standard. Popular with local office workers.

The Jamaica Wine House, 12 St. Michaels Alley, Off Corn Hill, EC3V 9DS

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Accidentally stumbling upon this pub is quite easy, whereas deliberately finding it is rather more awkward. I sometimes get City blindness (dazzled by all the sharp suits and the moneyed punters, doubtless) where all of the streets round the Royal Exchange look exactly the same, and then I panic, darting into the dingy back streets and heading into the first non-chain-pub drinking establishment I can find. Fortunately, that's usually this one. Tucked away down a narrow alley off Cornhill (as the address would suggest), at the start of a maze of back streets, church yards and very peculiar shops, the entranceway to the pub cowers under a rather oversize (and very noticeable) lantern, which is painted black, rather negating the usual effect of lanterns. Despite large, clear glass windows, the wooden interior feels cramped and slightly dingy (something I rather like), split into several different compartments which you have to weave through to get to the toilets. It's a place that gives the impression of not having been messed with for a very long time, so much so that fellows in silk stockings and huge grey wigs would fit in more than the current crowd of screaming suits. There is a downstairs bit as well, that apart from going to the toilet, I've never ventured into, but which does seem even more time-warped and dingy than the upstairs. The selection of beer is good, it has an excellent range of wines, although everything is on the pricey side, and it gets very crowded on a Thursday and Friday night. Go here, have one too many to drink and then get lost in the maze of surrounding alleys. Not open Saturday or Sunday, and I haven't noticed a TV yet (although don't take that as gospel).

The Lamb Tavern, 10-12 Leadenhall Market, EC3V 1LR

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Nestled inside the wondrous Leadenhall market, dark wood and frosted windows, mysterious upper levels, cramped toilets, crowded, noisy, downright enjoyable. A pub that looks like it hasn't changed much since the first World War at the latest, which it is all the better for. The best place to sit is on the first floor, staring out at the bustle below. This is also the supposed non-smoking area, which is a bit strange considering that smoke rises and a considerable amount of fumigatory pleasure is undertaken beneath. And ashtrays are also supplied. The only downside of this splendid establishment is that it is not open at weekends or after 10pm at night

The Mail Coach, 1 Camomile Street, EC3A 7BH

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Ah, the joys of underground pubs. When the sun shines, there’s nothing better. Stick yer outside, with its chain smokers, exhaust fumes and skin cancer, I’d rather be in a dimly-lit underground dungeon with, er, well, not very many other people, actually. And that’s the advantage: the Hogshead down the road is bursting at the seams, with faces, legs, suits and great big fat wallets all pressed up against the windows, much like a Central Line carriage that’s had beer, crisps and a white wine for the lady thrown into the mix; The Mail Coach, by comparison, is serene, with plenty of empty tables, a few blokes playing darts and post-punk music shimmying out of the speakers. There’s nothing not to love, from the William Morris wallpaper and the trad pub vibe to the cheery barman, the selection of real ales and the pretty decent food. As Darth Vader never tired of telling Luke Skywalker, succumb to the dark side…

The Old Dr Butler's Head, 2 Masons Avenue, near Guildhall, EC2V 5BT

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The most exciting thing about this pub is finding it. Hard by the Guildhall are a series of narrow east-west running passages, leftovers from 18th century London that have amazingly survived various redevelopments, the Victorians, the Blitz and the 1980s. Pick the right one of these and you will be rewarded by the narrow path opening out to provide the glorious vista of a restored, Tudor-looking building. The inside isn't so bad either, sensitively refurbished in dark wood and providing a generous number of tables and a large standing area for those Friday night crowds. Stuffed to bursting point with suits yakking about their pay packets, the atmosphere is no great shakes, but it's worth the trip for the visual impact of the outside alone. Sky Sports, food at lunchtimes, decent beer, not open weekends.

Ye Olde Watling, 29 Watling Street, EC4M 9BR

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Another pub built by Christopher Wren for the craftsmen working on St Mary and St Mary Aldermary churches nearby. It's small and has very little in the way of seating: only one table and some uncomfortable bar stools lined up against windows on two sides. It gets absurdly full up with annoying people at the end of the working day.

The Porters' Lodge, 17 Arthur St, EC4R 9AY

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Bad reviews from other sites, plus the giant 80s corporate sign outside the entrance - complete with a filthy England flag flapping below it - made me rather wary as I escaped from the sunlight and down into another troglodytic drinking den. Odd, then, to discover a perfectly decent slab of subterranea: all wooden walls, traditional pub feel, plenty of tables and lots of cheerfully nattering groups. With absolutely no pretence about it, and seeming to attract a more human type of punter than the nearby Bolt Hole, I found myself heartened by the whole experience.

The Printers Devil, 98-99 Fetter Lane, EC4A 1EP

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This pub’s name hints at the area’s link to the newspaper industry and makes it an attractive proposition for anyone wanting to organise a Halloween Party in the upstairs bar. Unfortunately that is about as exciting as it gets. Popular with drunken office workers that don’t mind paying £3 for gassy lager.

The Red Lion, 8 Lombard Court, EC3V 9BJ

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The Red Lion is officially Britain’s most common pub name. Apparently we have King James I to thank for this. He decreed that all pubs should be emblazoned with his family’s coat of arms (the Scottish red lion).

This particular Red Lion, run by Nicholsons, is not easy to find and is hidden in an alley between Gracechurch and Lombard Streets. The ground floor bar is tiny and no more than fifty people are allowed in. The moment a fifty-first person walks in the floor will probably collapse. The main bar down in the basement is huge in comparison and there is plenty of room to relax without fear of structural collapse. Traditional pub food and ales are served.

The Sea Horse, 64 Queen Victoria Street, EC4N 4SJ

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We at RPF really have our fingers on the pulse, we have reviewed this place just as it has just come under new management. The new owners did not even have enough time to chill the beer for my review. The staff were keen to impress and despite the local competition they should do well. The main draw here for the post work crowd are the cocktails and the orientally inclined food. The wine list is decent and there’s a big plasma screen suspended from the ceiling for sports fans. It’s too early to judge but this probably isn’t one for serious beer drinkers. Nevertheless there is something for everyone here and it will undoubtedly prove to be a popular choice

The Ship, 11 Talbot Court, EC3V 0BP

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This popular watering hole located in a quiet courtyard off busy Eastcheap is conveniently located close to Monument tube. Being a Nicholson's pub it serves decent beer and good solid fayre. Lunchtimes are busy as the local suits treat this place as a boardroom which serves pints. I sought refuge in the upstairs room which is accessed by a winding staircase. To my delight, I discovered another bar up there and then promptly grabbed a vacant table. However, as the place filled up I was forced to defend my table from the jealous glances of the besuited clientele. Get here early or find somewhere else is my advice

The Ship, 3 Hart Street, EC3R 7NB

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Great little pub just been taken over by new people. Planned refurb early January, which is desperately needed as it has been a very dark dingy place for too long. From speaking with the new people they have plans to make it brighter and more inviting and still keep the pubby feel. Good on them, finally The Ship is having some wind put in her sails!

The Ship Tavern, 27 Lime Street, EC3M 7HR

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This is one of a few nautically-themed pubs in the City of London. A trip to this one involves descending into a subterranean world where old men can drink away their cares oblivious to the hustle and bustle of the world above. On our visit most of the punters seemed to be involved in a game of darts. We chose instead to watch the rugby on the telly. The sight of 30 sweaty and overweight men chasing after an oval ball reminded me why I normally prefer to watch football. There is a standard choice of beers at the bar, but the more intrepid can take a trip to the gents which is rather like a journey to the centre of the earth.

The Sterling, Swiss Re Building, 30 St Mary Axe, EC3A 8EP

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Sprawling, fancy bar on the ground and first floors of Foster's 'erotic gherkin', this is very definitely a classy joint. No expense has been spared on the fittings, and it's easy to luxuriate in the revoltingly fashionable surroundings whilst staring rather snootily at the rest of the world. Food, posh beers etc. It's kind of like the place All Bar One wished it was.

The Swan, 77-80 Gracechurch Street, EC3V 0AS

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Lurking just outside the coloured rafters of Leadenhall Market, and tucked slightly away from the noise and pollution of Gracechurch Street, this is an absolute belter of a pub. Extremely traditional, with no time for faddish contemporary nonsense, it combines an intimate atmosphere with a generous range of Fuller’s ales. In addition to the jam-packed downstairs bar is a slightly more open upstairs, with a small TV wobbling on the top of an extremely ornate wooden podium. Not much seating, either way, so be prepared to stand. Friendly barstaff. Does sandwiches. Not open weekends.

Throgmorton, 27b Throgmorton Street, EC2N 2AN

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Situated at the heart of the City's stock-trading business, there's so much cash filling the air about Throgmorton Street that it sometimes feels like a plague of bats flapping round my head. 'Throgmorton' itself, housed in a low-key but attractive building, used to be just a restaurant, but has diversified in recent years, opening up its vast basement areas for the delight of the general drinking public. Descending an opulent, darkly glinting stairwell, the first bar area I encounter (the - cough - 'long room') feels rather like a hotel lobby: there's wood panelling, comfy sofas and lots of people in suits talking loudly and flinging money around; the difference lies in the provision of hugely expensive German beer, which while being tasty cost in the region of £3.50 per pint. Not finding the experience unpleasant, I try my luck further, descending another level to the 'sports bar', which is more excitingly dark and less furnished by pot plants, boasting some pool tables, a huge TV screen, and a slightly more down-dressed class of punter. Food is on offer, doubtless platinum-plated and veering towards the price of a Ritz cucumber sandwich, and there's a generous selection of (expensive) wines. The whole place is of curiosity value only, and if you do come, remember to have a wallet the size of the Ark Royal - you'll need it. Or maybe you can just catch some of the money flapping through the air on the street outside; there's enough of it in the City, after all, to keep us all happy, as Joyti De Laury realised.

The Underwriter, 15 St. Mary Axe, EC3A 8AH

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When walking around St Mary Axe, most people's eyes are tilted upwards, admiring the swelling eroticism of Foster's just-landed-from-outer-space Swiss Re building. In a reaction to the upwardly mobile buildings and workers of its surroundings, the Underwriter pub presents itself as a set of stairs going down into the ground, in a certain sense underwriting the City. I've always had a soft spot for underground pubs, but this one used to be fairly grubby and unassuming. A bright new refit - sweeping clean lines to bring out the generous size of the interior, lounge-style cube chairs, funky music and art on the walls - has actually made it a far more interesting place. Cheery bar staff, good food and a decent range of beers add to the positive impression. Not recommended for the street gazers amongst us, but well worth a visit for those with downwardly-mobile urges. Not open weekends.

The Walrus and Carpenter, 45 Monument Street, EC3R 8BU

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A man goes into a Young's pub and asks for a bottle of Young's beer, only to be roundly abused by the landlord, who claims rather aggressively that this isn't a Young's pub, despite the rather large signs on the wall saying "Ram Brewery" (which is, for those who don't know, where Young's beers are brewed). Rather like with religion, you have to ignore the evidence of your own eyes and just believe the ranting nutter in front of you. So I did, accepted that this WASN'T a Young's pub, and everything continued splendidly thereafter. Stripped down and rather scruffy, this is a pleasing establishment close to the Monument, lacking the loud music, testosterone and heaving crowds of the Hogsheads etc nearby. It serves decent Young's bitters on tap (yes, that's right, the same Young's that the pub is absolutely and totally not connected with in any way - as Tony Blair said about Iraq and WMD: "trust me on this one") plus the usual host of lagery stuff. Surprisingly good for the area, but they do need to sort out the "Ram Brewery" signs on the wall. Not open weekends.

Williamson's Tavern, 1 Groveland Court, Off Bow Lane, EC4M 9EH

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It is a bit of a challenge finding this one on account of it being tucked away down a Dickension alleyway around the back of the famous St Mary-le-Bow church. I had the place to myself when I first turned up which lead me to believe that other people were finding it equally difficult to locate. The Four Tops was playing on the radio as I perused the fairly bog standard range of beers, wines and spirits on offer. Pint in hand, I was then faced with the dilemma of staying in this bar or moving to one at the other end of the pub. After agonising for..oh about half a second I found a spot by the window colonised by some cushions, which I promptly moved before I succumbed to the overwhelming urge to nod-off. Gradually people started arriving until the atmosphere was filled with the pleasant chit-chat of businessmen. You won't find annoying merchant bankers with mobile phones here - they don't seem to work (no signal). Instead, people come here to drink, chat, read and smoke. It's what pubs are all about really. The pub has an interesting history as well, but you will have to go there and find it out for yourselves.

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