Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese, Holborn
The battle for the crown of London’s oldest pub is hotly debated with many pubs claiming the premiership title of longevity.
Which won claims top spot we’ll probably never know but this pubs history, list of famous patrons and intimate authentic atmosphere speak for themselves.
Far more talented wordsmiths than I have already written thousands of words waxing lyrical about this hostelry. They are all correct. If you’ve been, then you are probably nodding along in approval and agreement as you read this. If you’ve not it’s one to add to the list, especially to grab the front seat by the roaring fire or to explore the subterranean levels.
When international visitors think of a traditional London pub this is probably the image their minds eye conjures up. A few hours in here nursing pints against a backdrop of dark oak panelling, snacking on sausage rolls and exploring its different levels is a delight and a must-do for any out of towner or new Londoner.
I commented to someone recently that 80% of pubs in Zone 1 which make up the main body of central London are terrible. While I agree that percentage is slightly exaggerated I still believe the figure to be very high. Too many are bars masquerading as pubs or are purely there to serve a purpose near a mainline train station or office for commuters. They regularly have no soul of buzz and cater to a transient customer base often milking punters or unsuspecting tourists like cash cows.
Although many of these hostelries might be historical they don’t cultivate community of have any personal history; other than someone getting the 18:02 to Clacton 5 nights a week. Stories metaphorically don’t come out of the walls as you touch them. Because of these slim pickings it makes it all the more sweeter when you find somewhere real and worth spending your time and money in.
In the Cheshire Cheese’ case even if you can’t use your mobile or swear at your leisure, due to owner Sam Smith’s policies, you’ve found that quenching oasis in the desert. Crossing the threshold here is like stepping inside a portal into the past and you have a sense that not much has changed inside the belly of this warm and familiar beast in hundreds of years. The atmosphere is always intimate and comforting; much like a favourite jumper or a well worn pair of socks. If ever there was an inner-London cocoon to enter to escape the unabating ferocity of the cut and thrust in a global city you’ve found it in here for a few hours.
While it might or might not be London’s oldest public house you have a sense of its past making your way down into the catacombs of its cellars down tiny passageways. Speculating what conversations have been had by those who came before us during the reigns of all the monarchs listed at the front door is a huge part of understanding the pubs rich social history. Be choosing to visit you yourself are become a chapter of its story and rich tapestry. Your murmurs in the cellar or by the fire continue London’s rich heritage and tradition. Go and be a part of it.
