First, there’s the ceiling. It’s this massive, ornate, Victorian masterpiece that makes you forget you’re eating a £4.99 burger. People tilt their phones up, and bam—suddenly they’ve got a shot that looks like a museum exhibit, not a Wednesday lunch.
Then you have the grand staircase. It’s the kind of staircase you’d expect in a Jane Austen movie, not one leading to the toilets. Families pose there, kids get their photos taken, and you can’t help but feel a little fancy climbing it with your tray of chips.
And the stained-glass windows? They catch the afternoon light in a way that makes your phone camera work overtime. One minute you’re checking the soup of the day, the next you’re an amateur art critic, admiring the coloured panes.
But It’s Still a ‘Spoons
Here’s the magic part: despite all that beauty, it feels like a local pub. You can still get a curry club deal on a Monday. The prices are still low enough that you don’t have to think twice about a second drink.
London's Zone 1 Wetherspoons ranked best to worst according to Google
That contrast is what makes the photos so special. You see a picture of the chandeliers next to a plate of onion rings, and it just works. It’s the same feeling as finding a vintage couch in a charity shop—unexpected and delightful.
I remember popping in last winter. It was raining outside, and the place was packed. A group of lads were taking selfies under the huge fireplace, their scarves still wet from the seafront. They weren’t being pretentious; they were just amazed that their cheap pub looked this good.
