On advice of non-legal counsel, I chose not to linger this visit to Brixton and, as I had already picked up the goat leg for birria tacos a couple days hence, moved on to finish my grocery run near Stockwell Station. A hundred or so meters beyond this stop sits the Duke of Cambridge where I decided to check my shopping list.
Quite the local bar, I was a stranger for the first five minutes. A repeat of Lazio versus AC Milan (I think) was on tele and I asked one of the fellows what happened to the ref (who had a gash beneath his right eye). I never found out as I got into a discussion about boxing with a couple of guys in their mid-20s who look like they might break peoples’ fingers for a living.
Excellent pub.
Endless British Pub Crawl (Part 3) 