I almost had to leave my sunglasses on. The Palm Tree is brighter inside than you'd expect. Gold-patterned paper adorns its walls; its sticky blue carpet makes your eyes go funny if you look at it too long. The bar stools are covered with a jolly shade of purple. In the corner is a decrepit drum kit and band set-up for Saturday nights. The same group of blokes have been entertaining Palm Tree patrons for years. Some of them are reported to be barely still breathing.
The best bit is the theatrical red trim festooning the top of the circular bar, above which sits many dated photos of local celebrities. There's no explanation why they are there. I had no idea who any of them were. In the midst is a proudly framed award declaring the Palm Tree the "Pub of the Year 2007". I sincerely hope the band was on deck the night that went down.
Holding court, with a pint, behind the bar was publican Alf. We ordered two shandies. He poured one before wandering off to ring it up on an ancient cash register (a sign advises no cards are accepted). I reordered my drink. It was awful. I tipped it into my mate's glass and went back to the bar.
"Could I have a small beer please?" I repeated a couple of times. I had to choose which beer I wanted from the grimy taps without knowing what any of them were. Alf brought me over a shot glass of lager.
"That small enough for you?" he asked.
"That'll be £12 please."
A punter helpfully told me to ask for a "half". Alf obliged.
"That'll be £43 please."
What a character. I couldn't get enough. Someone asked him what he'd had for dinner the night before. He told them he'd roasted a squirrel. My friend asked if he had any salt and vinegar crisps.
"Do I?" he hooted.
"Only the best salt and vinegar crisps in the world! From Ireland! I'll be back in a moment."
He disappeared out the back.
When he reappeared a minute later, he was empty-handed. My mate waited.
"What can I get you love?" he asked.
"Er, the best salt and vinegar crisps in the world?" she reminded him.
"Oh yeah!" he exclaimed, and reached behind him for a packet. They were good but I've had better.
Unfortunately, another barman turned up for his shift soon after and Alf disappeared out the back again, for good this time.
Entertainment over, we downed our drinks and wandered back out into the weak sunshine before it buggered off again.
Best Sunday Session ever.
CHECKLIST
Palm Tree is at 127 Grove Rd, London E3 5RP, United Kingdom.
Getting there: Emirates flies daily to both London Heathrow and Gatwick from Auckland via Dubai.