Birchwood, Thamesmead  

Located just a brick's throw from a near-devastated edge-of-civilisation cityscape of decaying garages and houses draped with England flags, with the tang of Beckton sewage works evident on the bitter marshland wind, the Birchwood stands out as a haven of warmth and welcome. Even its sign-an elegant, sparkling mosaic, depicting a birch leaf, topped by a big chunky gold-plated cockerel, suggests that this pub has greater ambitions than do the other unspeakably, despicably, dire drinking dens in this vile neighbourhood. Inside, a silent orchestra of musical instruments hang from the ceiling and walls-lots of brass, but also a fiddle and a bodhran, with a Galway road sign adding to the very slight Irish flavour. There's also a small library, of sorts, and a collection of Toby mugs, which sit comfortably amid the Tudorbethan-effect interior, wood beams and all that. Although you're bound to hear a fair bit of effing and blinding here, all in all this is a lot less rough n ready than other pubs nearby, and, despite its slightly obscure location, is a fair bit more lively than most of them too. This pub, which in other contexts, might be just a fairly ordinary, but reasonably pleasant, place of respite, is a real asset to the area.

pub features:(click on an icon to see an explanation)