The Hungerford Arms, Shadwell, E1

There’s no real ale here, nor any sign of food when I dropped in on Wednesday afternoon. This just isn’t the sort of place that would do anything fancy. I wouldn’t have been surprised to see a bowl of clingfilm covered cheese rolls, but I just don’t suppose that there’s any market for anything more than a bag of crisps or pork scratchings. This is another locals’ pub, with a dozen or so apparent regulars in, some using earthy language. There’s a pool table at the back, a few potted plants around the place, a piano near the door, and some very basic, but standard issue, normal tables and chairs. There’s a solitary picnic bench outside. And that’s just about it. I’m glad this pub’s still here for those who appreciate these down to earth places and are happy to drink bogstandard lagers, but I’m unlikely to return.