Ye Olde Watling

Quintessential English Pub Delight with Stunning Views

Ah, Ye Olde Watling—a name with a nod to the annals of history for a pub flanked by the towering grandeur of St. Paul's Cathedral. A venue fashioned for such articulate sleights as “consuming ale” and discussing pie fillings, it is a labyrinth of charming cobblestone nuances and pleasantly warbling clientele, most especially on jam-packed Thursday evenings when the air outside is spiced with office laughter and lingering tobacco whispers. It's moulting the old-world charm draped in the hearty offering of pies, which might transport you back to your nan’s kitchen, prompting an involuntary murmur about lamb melted like butter.

In the manner of classic English fun, the serving staff—both swift-footed and amiably leggy—navigate the diary-cluttered conversations of transactions, immersing themselves in the tides of drink orders that scatter across their convivial floor. Accolades to AJ, Shalina, and the epic Scott, who seem to raise not just spirits (the literal and figurative type) but expectations in quite the fabulous, sometimes flawed manner inherent in such esteemed haunts. Mind you, monetary highs followed by tipsy lows succinctly define the experience here, where one might as delightfully rue the cost of libations as bask in their bliss. Nevertheless, in this titanic narrative stretch along Watling Street amid ancient anecdotes—or urban legends—it's sure worth carving out another tale of your own. — Penelope Savory