London is full of pubs and how you choose which one to go to can be as simple as “there is a pub” or as complicated as you make it.  But sometimes, you don’t choose the pub, the universe leads you there instead.  For me and UK pubs, the universe has a history of working in mysterious and memorable ways.

I was staying in Fitzrovia and not knowing this London neighborhood, despite it being a few blocks away from my normal haunt of Soho, I relied on the concierge to suggest a pub.  I was meeting an old friend and given that the “weather was pants” (his words) we ditched our normal pub in Hampstead to try something different. While there were at least five pubs within a block of the hotel, none quite gave me that “perfect fit feel” so I asked the hotel concierge for a suggestion. He gave me a name of a pub that was a ten minute walk, showed me the internet site and rather than draw on a map, he printed out walking directions.  I thanked him and shoved the paper in my purse on the way out of the hotel to meet my friend at the tube station.

We decided to walk around the area and see what pub “felt right”.  We passed a busy pub full of people cheering on the football (fun crowd but too loud to catch up), we passed an empty pub (too quiet, not a good sign), and a pub that I mistakenly thought was the concierge’s suggestion.  We kept walking into a desolate, quiet area of closed businesses and offices (no pubs).  By this time, we were quite thirsty and in need of a pub (only in London can you “need” a pub).  So at the corner, I turned to the right and said “there’s neon down that street, so maybe restaurants and pubs?” (yes, I know grasping at straws with my logic, my friend was a good sport to continue the search).  There would be many small, empty restaurants (it was 6pm on a Saturday) and a few pubs.  We looked in one and saw less than ten people, both agreeing it didn’t look fun.  So we passed on loud, quiet, empty, old, no fun and were starting to think we wouldn’t find a good compromise and would need to turn around and reconsider rejected spots.  I then spied a cute sign of a cartoon drawing with a crown on top and said “Pub Ahead!” so we walked there and I started to laugh and shake my head in disbelief.

My friend, wondering if this was another weird American thing I do, asked me why I was laughing and I said “I think this is where the concierge was sending us” and searched my purse for the printout.  Sure enough, The Crown & Sceptre was the pub we were meant to go to, one that we found on our own after a myriad of decisions along the way.  Had we walked here immediately, the story would be so different – we would have had a destination to go to rather then the journey of discovery that we had.

Entering the pub, I snagged the last open table while my friend ordered our drinks at the bar (a pint and a large glass of Malbec for me) and I thanked the universe for guiding us here – to the pub we were meant to drink at – the pub that is now added to our collection of “remember that pub” stories.