The Lambeth Walk is not as billed in the song. Quite a bleak but somehow beautiful mishmash of architectural accident–or–design; a legacy of stray WWII bombs intended for more auspicious near-at-hand targets, such as the Houses of Parliament. I study sculpture here each Monday; a lovely workshop inside. The exterior features one of only a few examples of an outside pulpit, apparently for the minister to take his message direct to the shoppers, in the Walk's heyday.
A residential estate that once housed 40,000 people which has now become an abandoned ghost town. Minutes away from Elephant & Castle, is an unexpected dystopian treat.
The Nightingale is the antithesis of the hundreds of soulless gastropubs that a lot of decent pubs have recently become and remains everything a proper pub should be. Britain's pubs haven't had it easy lately. The smoking ban and the general effects of the recession have hammered the industry hard. The Nightingale continues to be what it has always been, a proper pub at the heart of the local community. Its annual charity walk has raised nearly £500,000 for good causes in over 30 years and it seems determined to do the things a pub should do and do them properly. Once inside you feel like you could be in a country pub instead of in the middle of South London. There's no jukebox and the TV is hardly ever on, but there’s a great atmosphere with a good set of locals and good drink and food. Bliss.