Highbury pubs

Alwyne Castle, 83 St. Pauls Rd, N1 2LY

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An exceedingly appealing exterior opens up into yet another gentrified Highbury and Islington pub, boasting sprawling sofas, fancy beers and a conservatory extension. All very nice and comfortable, and, well, pleasant, but I can't help worrying what happened to the original inhabitants, who seem to have been driven out by the plush furnishings and 'back to mine' volume 18 playing over the speakers (nothing so democratic as a juke box, of course). There was nowhere to sit because all the tables had been occupied by single inhabitants, stretched-out and small-looking on the huge sofas, bent over newspapers or work but looking contented after a large plate of pseudo-gastronomic food. That was okay, though, as there was plently of room to stand at the bar, listening to the music and occasional natter from the more occupied tables. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this pub at all, apart from the slightly smug, sterile undertone that is exuded by people with too much money and nothing really meaningful to do in their lives, people who are just passing time... The trade-off for increased economic wealth seems to be a touch of blandness. Some people are happy with this, and fair enough; to me it stinks of death.

The Bank of Friendship, 224 Blackstock Road, N5 1EA

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Now thankfully free of the autocratic reign of former landlady Margaret, this classic "boozer" is a must for any fan of Guinness. John the Irish landlord has continued the Bank's fine tradition of serving the best pint of "The Black Stuff" in North, if not all, of London. A quirky mix of seriously old people and young professionals along with celebs including Gooner and writer Nick Hornby and that Lynne Slater off Eastenders make this a worthwhile visit. The Arsenal/Irish connection abounds with signed Liam Brady and Pat Jennings memorabilia on the walls although you could never call this a Gooner pub. A plasma screen and a couple of tellys do make it a great location for watching a match and it's rare that one fails to get a seat and a decent view. Half the pub has no telly so those that don't wish to watch can drink and chat in peace. Music varies from poor to p1ss poor. It's a proper boozer, it's clean, (bar the Gents), the Guinness is to die for and it has a big though strangely planted beer garden. What more do you want? Be warned that on days that The Arsenal play at home this pub is seriously rammed

The Compton Arms, 4 Compton Avenue, Highbury, N1 2XD

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The stratospheric earnings of the regulars within made my nose bleed. Conversations on the role and integrity of journalism abound in the back room (which is the size of a postage stamp) but the front room (the size of a picture postcard that it so closely resembles) is rather more reassuringly normal. This tiny pub bursts with charm, and the sort of warm Sunday afternoon atmosphere that makes a very long stay tempting. I can't honestly remember whether it offered a big football screen or not; my instincts say not, but I perhaps hallucinated a projection type device onto the ceiling. It would be madness. The only people who could fit in the pub at the same time as a big screen would be the bar staff. And even they would find it hard...

The Hen and Chickens, 109 St Pauls Road, N1 2NA

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This, as it announces boldly above the door, is a theatre bar. Not that I know anybody who has ever been to the theatre that looks mysteriously on the first floor. Indeed, the Hen and Chickens is more renowned for its noisy retro gigs downstairs, with the horrible sounds of some dismal cover version drifting out into the auditory chaos of Highbury Corner. Almost unbelievably, this place does have its moments, although very few of them could be said to happen on a Friday night. Most of its moments do involve a late licence, and being so drunk that you couldn't really care where you were, as long as it will sell beer...

The Highbury Barn, 26 Highbury Park, N5 2AB

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It's not a barn, but it is in Highbury. An Arsenal post-match favourite (it used to boast the legend 'An Arsenal Pub' outside, as if we couldn't guess, but that has been dropped either because it's too gauche for these days of cultured attacking football, or because Arsenal threatened them with legal action) it is at other times rather quiet and indeed rather enjoyable. A tarted up interior offers the usual beers plus a big screen, food and a number of tourists dotted round the tables. Just give it a miss on match Saturdays.

The Woodbine, 215 Blackstock Road, N5 2LL

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The seductive, twinkling windows drew me across the road with all the inevitable attraction of an Icelandic biscuit magnate for a failing East End football club. Bad, bad mistake. Once through the door, the seductive glamour faded, and I was faced with a rather revolting combination of complacent and shouty late-twenty or early thirtysomethings, the roar of overly-loud music, and some sort of graffiti thing above the bar that is doubtless an attempt to assert the pub's urban cool, but which was about as hip as a joint replacement operation. As with so many trendy pubs, the Woodbine committed the cardinal sin of going for oversize tables, meaning acres of ex-tree were being occupied by one or two people, while other groups either had to stand around like lemons, or perch uneasily together on the incidental collection of comfy chairs at the front of the pub. The beer was okay and the food is reputedly good, but those things alone - as Yoda probably said in a Star wars out-take - do not a great pub make.

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