The Sultan, SW2

Old multiple room pub, now mostly opened out into one long, continuous space around a central servery, with some evidence of former partitioning still visible here and there. The pub has a good old-school feel to it, with scuffed floorboards throughout and two-thirds height wall panels painted in various colours below plain upper sections. The bar has a very long counter, running in an approximate square shape, with nice, panelled frontage and a simple bar back topped with a random lone trophy. A dartboard can be found in an empty space to the front right, but the rest of the room has been filled with bench, chair and low stool seating. Attractive fireplaces stand at either end of the room, including a smaller one to the right which has a great Victoria tiled surround – a detail that was somewhat spoiled by the plasma screen TV above and the large pull-down projector screen to one side. The décor all had a bit of a corporate feel to it, with plenty of adverts for Coca-Cola and Guinness (which was ironic, as they’d run out of the latter). Perhaps the pub’s greatest asset is its glasswork, as exemplified by the entrance door and rear windows – sadly the front windows have been replaced with some ugly, modern etched panes. The best example was found in the partitioning screen to the right of the bar, where a series of leaded, stained glass panes frame the retained doorway. Through the door is an open plan space occupied by the only other customers on my midweek evening visit. More seating can be found back here, along with a second dartboard and a TV screen showing some random light entertainment programme which one old boy was inexplicably glued to, despite the lack of sound. There were two pumps clipped with Sharps Doom bar, but both clips had been reversed, and with no Guinness on either, I ended up with a pint of Camden Hells – a fairly uninteresting brew that was served to me by a pleasant barmaid who seemed shocked to see a strange face waiting to be served. This place showed a few tantalising glimpses of the attractive pub it no doubt used to be but has been knocked about too much to be of much more than a passing interest to even the most enthusiastic heritage pub seekers. The lack of cask ale, stilted atmosphere and general feeling of a pub on its last legs, meant this was a fairly depressing visit and with a packed Hand in Hand doing a much better job just a few doors down, I can’t see any reason to return.

On the bar counter are two beautifully polished black, brass surmounted handpumps. Unfortunately they seem to be solely for decoration now. The landlady told me that they had attempted to sell real ale but hadn’t been able to shift it. Shame, but one can hardly expect her to stock something that doesn’t sell. The pub is bare-boarded, but in a traditional sort of way rather than the shiny varnished floorings we sometimes see in gastropubs. Furnishings are normal tables and chairs. On the whole it’s got a fairly Spartan interior, with little or no decor, although the dark stained wood panelling on the walls looks in keeping with the place. There’s an interesting, sort of hidden, room at the back with just a single pool table in it, reached either through a pair of glass panelled swing doors to the rear and right of the central bar counter, or a small doorway directly behind the servery. A secret garden is also advertised – not visited during my February visit, but no doubt reached through more glass panelled doors at the rear of the main room. These glass panelled doors look to be the pub’s best feature in my opinion. I didn’t see any sign of food or menus during my Monday afternoon visit. I reckon that this a fairly decent little boozer, but I don’t expect that I’ll be making a return visit as I doubt whether the landlady will chance her arm on the real ale front again.