Remove the direction from South Kensington and you land with a much less sought-after neighborhood, and as aptly described by others, by a desolation alike that of small parts of the Shire should’ve Smaug ever found his way there. No burning buildings, mind you, but emptiness and a cold harsh wind that blows from the west.
Camera: Nikon D80, Nikkor 50mm lens
All is not lost, however. The Cumberland Arms is a quaint little pub on a Sunday, equipped with regulars and even a table of a couple of young’uns playing board games. The mahogany bar, the wooden tables, the rather quiet environment is all, dare I say, quintessentially British.
The food is quite alright actually – decently sized portions, the risotto spewing steams of truffle goodness. The service is fast and they offer you free bread (which is also delicious), so what else do you really want from a pub? Joyous times await as pints will be drunk. Or something along those lines.