William Hageman revisits a favourite haunt and is relieved to find its character has endured a recent spruce-up.
Before a recent trip to Britain, I checked on the status of a favourite stop, The Ten Bells, at Spitalfields, in London's East End.
The Ten Bells has always been on my London itineraries, originally because of its link to Jack the Ripper but more recently because of its charm, lack of pretence and cheap beer. It was a welcoming dive bar.
During my pre-trip research, however, a red flag popped up. A story referred to The Ten Bells as "trendy".
Trendy. The kiss of death. Seldom compatible with charming, unpretentious and cheap.