As American Expats in London we have completely embraced two things: walking and pubs.
In Los Angeles, we drive everywhere. Whether it’s over the hill to the Westside or across the street to a bar…we drive. So after work we’d have to strategically plan our happy hour endeavours depending on how far we had to drive home afterwords and how smashed we intended to get. Because that’s the other thing, we don’t drink calmly and socially. We go big and for no good reason at all.
But here, we love the simple notion of walking from the office to the local pub and having a pint of Guinness with our colleagues to unwind and have a laugh before heading home. There is such a surprising joy in the simplicity of walking from our flat a few steps to our local pub where the manager, Francis, knows our names and asks what new adventures we’ve been on over the weekend. Where I can walk in, grab a seat wherever there is room and hang by myself or strike up a conversation (yes, at your local pub this really can happen…even in London) or join a team for pub trivia. Our local is a fireplace and game of scrabble. Our local is finding a friend who’d also just stopped by. Our local is a decent fish n chips. Our local is good music and the guy in the corner who always sings the words. Our local is joy.