The local

The Faltering Fullback in Finsbury Park - my local for 3 years and probably the best pub in the world. Hands down. 

(photo from fancyapint.com)

The local must not be underestimated in London. Friendships are kept in a local. Friendships are made in a local. Pints are drunk. Whole rainy afternoons are spent idly sipping cider to nurse a hangover from the previous evening out on the town. The local and everyone's locals are what I miss most about London. It's the social glue of the entire British culture. It's not for drunks and vagabonds (though of course they'll be there too), but for the everyday folk to spend time with friends or a good newspaper (ideally the Sunday's Guardian) unwinding.

When I first moved to London I had the impression that most Brits were drunks. This was the result of three incidences that happened within the first month of arriving in London. The first two were at pubs in Finsbury Park.

The first:

(photo from fancyapint.com)

The T-Bird. A middle aged gentleman breaks his face open by falling forward on the wooden table in front of him from a standing position (ie passed out). Blood everywhere. The guy staggers up (smashing your face will wake you up) and starts dancing. Good reggae will get anyone dancing I suppose.

The second:

(photo from fluidnetwork.co.uk)

The Worlds End. A 40ish year old man in a nice suit and shiny black shoes is passed out in a drunken stupor outside the door of the pub. It's 700pm. It's a Wednesday. I'm getting home from work. His friends come outside and laughingly try to help him get up. Because that's what friends are for.

The third:

The Devil's Juice - Snakebite

(photo thomaspatterson.co.uk)

The central line, westbound. After experiencing my first taste of Snakebite - typically reserved for university students, courtesy of my amazing hockey team's first team night out, I arrived at Sheppard's Bush attempting to go to Finsbury Park from Loughton. Of course non Londoners have no idea what I mean, so in Toronto that's like leaving from Ajax to go to Bloor and Spadina and finding yourself in Oakville.  It was my first week and I had no idea where I was or really where I was going. Thanks Snakey B! Luckily my taxi driver could speak Spanish. 

These three incidences would I think, clearly lead anyone to think that Brits are drunks, but these still stand out as rare occurrences that just happened to all be some of my first pub experiences.  After that, I found out that visiting a good local was great for friends mingling and hanging out. I think if you work at a place with lots of young people in London you will easily make new friends because of this common and celebrated part of life. And that's what I miss the most today about London. By the way, I never found myself asleep on the tube again (with the obvious exception of every single weekday morning on the commute to work. those local pubs will tire you out!).