I had to go to north London today - it was horrible.
Quite aside from the fact a friend has just died, Ms Hatter feeling unwell and me being up all night with baby hatter and no sleep, we had to meet Ms Hatter's bro for his birthday lunch. We went to a 'pub' in Maida Vale, which was really a restaurant/gastropub masquerading as a boozer. The sort of place where you walk through the front door of the pub and they tell you 'there are no tables available at present sir'. iPad-toting posers were having lunch together - an £18 roast or a £28 chicken to share (even the vegi option was £12) - but seemed more glued to their screens than engaged in conversation with each other. Cutlery was in wanky old battered tea pots. The sugar bowl was an old syrup tin and the salt was in a jar with what looked like a little coke spoon to dole it out. At the bar, only hipster beer was on sale for £4.35 a pint.
It was nice to see ms Hatter's family, but this was everything I hate in a pub. Full of rich wanky people swanking it up trying to look cool and paying through the nose for average food. For all its faults, Brixton isn't this bad yet. Please let's not let it get like that….