A rainy night in Soho

A unique Saturday night experience

I hadn’t been out in Central London on a Saturday night for a long time (we are talking 20 years or more here) so I was wondering quite what to expect. The first thing that was self-evident is that it is not a dormitory town where the lights go off when the workers leave. Quite the opposite in fact! I met my date in the bar at the BFI (that’s the British Film Institute) close to Waterloo Station and we hatched a plan. Early evening London was positively buzzing and the South Bank was no exception as we considered our options. Soho or Covent Garden – a real no brainer to an ex-native like me. It was raining and as a Pogues ‘aficionado’it had to be the former. So off we went into the damp night air. Over the Millennium Bridge and up Villiers Street, pausing only to quiz my companion as to the name of one of its famous previous inhabitants (Rudyard Kipling of course). Then over the Strand and through to Shaftesbury Avenue and through the cacophony of night-time chatter, crowded pavements and November drizzle and just over to the left -Dean Street - and we were there – at the start of Soho.

Soho is a very hard place to pin down. The district – and its southern subsection Chinatown – teems with visitors – show-goers, hungry patrons like us looking for some of London’s best restaurants and revellers just looking for a long night out in one of the areas splendid clubs, pubs and bars. Shane McGowan, the (in)famous writer of ‘A Rainy Night in Soho’, may well have lamented the evolution of Soho’s change from sleazy sex district to upmarket bohemia but the place does not disappoint. It’s simply heaving with all manner of fascinating nooks and crannies NB -Soho was also home to many historical figures, including Mozart, Karl Marx and The Sex Pistols. Many Londoners still think it’s all about sex, but the fact is, Soho should be as notable for its history and culture as it is for the sleaze. London’s once seedy yet exhilarating district of bars, cafes, clubs and cabaret is rapidly being transformed by the relentless tide of gentrification and globalisation.

Anyway, we decided on a quick libation in the French House Pub, a gorgeous place full of atmosphere, with some great local characters and an upstairs dining room which is small and intimate. Time for a quick review check on the iPhone to see what lucky eaterie was going to take our money. Apparently most with most restaurants on a Saturday night you just have to turn up and see if they will take you in. Being the philistine I am I opted for some draught beer over the bottled variety and we went straight to the Glass Blowers which serves a fine variety of self brewed ales. Then it was time for a blunder into the damp night air to find a high-class dinning experience. Having eschewed a number of options we were fortunate enough to happen upon the Chotto Matte – an extravaganza of Japanese style open grill ‘slice-and-dice’ with Peruvian spices. This place definitely pushes all the right buttons if you are looking for something pretentious yet extraordinarily good. This place is well worth all the ‘poncing about’ – ‘nuff said’ – although I am unclear as to whether any guinea pigs were consumed.

Having eaten my own body weight in Jappo-Peruvy cusine it was time to barrel through China Town, onto the Mall and a short cut through Green Park to Victoria where our carriage awaited (well the 11.15 to East Croydon anyway).

I am not sure whether Shane would approve of the 2015 version but I would heartily recommend an evening in Soho to refresh the most jaded pallet and in hind-sight would advise a little planning to make sure you get the best out of your experience.

Evie The Scribbler

TripTide User