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A recent post by a Pub-Tok influencer described The Dacre Arms as ‘a slice of the Cotswolds in Lewisham’, and, improbably, it's hard to disagree. Outside: a quiet street, trees, a church and a red telephone box full of books to take or replace. On the corner, the pub seems deceptively dinky and dainty. It has blooming hanging baskets and a set of tables down the side catching the late afternoon sun. Step through the door and, suddenly, you're in the 1950s, thanks to charming original features that survived even a 1970s refit.
On tap, Cruzcampo is the exotic choice. You might get the bartender whose sardonic humour and childlike twinkle gives you the feeling of being served by a lost BBC sitcom character. The modern world has not changed The Dacre Arms. They do not do food. But they do do Scampi Fries. Get some.
Drink secured, try and fully take in the tat-filled walls. Or see what competitive sport on the telly has the locals rapt, equally interested in daytime women’s curling as in the World Cup. Out back has the feel of your mum’s friend’s garden, all chunky furniture and declarations of when gin o’clock is.
There can’t be many of these pubs left
So what’s so great about The Dacre Arms? Everything, really. It’s a pub that possesses the very spirit of the pub. It’s picture-book pretty but it’s a little rough-edged. Everyone seems to know everyone. There can’t be many of these left in London, or even Britain. So this is a neighbourhood pub of the rarest breed - unchanged, absolutely effective at what it does, still essential and trying to impress absolutely no one ever. Especially not influencers, one suspects.
Order this
Cruzcampo and Scampi Fries.
Time Out tip
Carry on your bucolic pub crawl in walkable Blackheath Village.