The London Walker

Ah, the magical pleasure of supping a beer in a good old London boozer. There are so many glorious and fabulous pubs in London that we are truly spoilt for choice. At any one time it is estimated that there are between 3,500 and 4,000 licensed properties operating in the city.

While many pubs are sadly closing, it seems that as one closes its doors, another magically opens. With the diverse explosion of microbreweries, you’re never far away from a little cosy spot which serves the frothy brown stuff. From historic taverns, coaching inns to trendy modern gastropubs, London has some of the best pubs in the world. As we approach the holiday season, I thought it high time to explore a couple of the old boozers I have long frequented, know, and love, and to examine their history and folklore.

It’s truly difficult to know where to start. You know – what’s your favourite pub, and on what basis do you judge it?

Previously, its been the Hand and Shears in Smithfield and The Grenadier across town in Belgravia – both absolutely cracking pubs. But I’ve saved the best for last. Welcome to The Coach and Horses in Soho, grade II listed and situated on the corner of Romilly Street and Greek street, a stone’s throw from Leicester Square and Piccadilly Circus. For me, this is the jewel of all London pubs. It has everything you could ever want in a boozer.

A great line-up of drinks, Seafarers and London pride always on the cask ales selection, and now some great food to boot. In the old days it was very much a corned beef sandwich and pickled onion kind of catering experience, now you can squeeze through a hatch in the bar, mount some narrow stairs at the back and enter a cosy intimate first floor restaurant which serves a great range of vegetarian tucker.

Downstairs in the main bar you are treated to a fabulous traditional interior, little changed since a rejig of the Victorian model in the 1930’s, it has three distinctive bar areas, light oak partition screens, and charming low tables pushed against the panelled walls. There is an old much loved upright piano where jovial sing alongs are held weekly. Along the base of the bar is a granite spittoon trough once used to help clean the muck and chewing tobacco off the floor. The walls are filled with political sketches and cartoons, there are theatrical reviews and programmes, photographs, drawings and art, which reflect the pubs proximity to the West End as well as a hang-out for journalists and media.

The Coach and Horses, has been pulling pints since 1724. Legend has it that the name derives from the old horse drawn coaches which would run from this site taking people across the city, remember this was a time before the London Underground. The bar sign illustrates the kind of carriages which would have set off from this site. It has stood here in the bustling heart of Soho and the West End for three hundred years.

The Coach and Horses has long been a cherished haunt for the creative and slightly wayward souls of Soho, attracting a roster of writers, artists, musicians, and actors. Among its most famous and illustrious patrons were Jeffrey Bernard, Francis Bacon, Lucian Freud, Peter O’Toole, John Hurt, Peter Cook. The pub’s bohemian and slightly debauched spirit was immortalised in Keith Waterhouse’s 1989 play Jeffrey Bernard is Unwell, which meticulously recreated its interior on the stage of the nearby Apollo Theatre.

More recently the pub has become a lively hub for the staff of The Spectator and Private Eye, where notorious drinking sessions would occur here fortnightly during editorial lunch meetings. As famous as these was the pubs former landlord Norman Balan, who was known as the rudest landlord in London. He wrote a biography which is well worth a read called ‘You’re Barred, You Bastards’. I met him one afternoon behind the bar, he certainly had an aura.

I had a very peculiar afternoon one time at the pub a few years back. Popping in for a lunch time pint, I sat down and at the table next to me among a group of people was the actor Antonio Banderas. Sipping my beer and surreptitiously listening in I discovered he was here for a few days recording additional dialogue for a movie at one of the production houses nearby. Finishing my pint, I rose and pulling on my coat practically walked into Ian Brown, the singer from The Stone Roses, who was coming in through the door.

If you want to immerse yourself in a real bit of Soho life, arrive here at midday, order a glass of beer, sit back at one of the tables, lean up against the wood panelling and watch the people who come through, you’ll never know who you’ll see. Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you, The Coach and Horses, a merry Christmas to you all.