For my 30th birthday my ex-girlfriend, Nicci, presented me with an umbrella. This was not just any umbrella but one from James Smith & Sons of New Oxford Street, London.

Anyone who has spent more than a few months in London will have noticed this shop. It looks like it hasn’t changed for about 140 years. All the surrounding shops look shoddy and temporary in comparison. It makes me long for the wondrous Victorians who put so much pride into the everyday.

But the outside is but an hors d’oeurves to the wonders that lurk within. As you would expect, there are more brollies than you can shake a stick at. Who would have thought that the humble umbrella could exist in such a multiplicity of varieties?

If you want an umbrella with a handle shaped like Sherlock Holmes they will have it. How about an umbrella with a retractable blade like Patrick McNee used in the Avengers? Not a problem, sir!

They are not cheap but you are paying for rare craftsmanship, each umbrella is hand made. The manager told me that due to two terrible summers in a row, they have far more business than they can handle.

He was slightly reluctant to let me take pictures in case this piece sent a flood of bright young things through their doors. But don’t let him put you off. Visitors to London will need an umbrella and this is the place to buy one.

James Smith & Sons, 53 New Oxford Street, London WC1A 1BL 

I had fallen into a conversation at the bar with a man called Steve. Alice, my romantic possibility, waved and said that she would like a Gin and Tonic. “Is that your bird?” Steve said. I nodded. "If you don’t mind me saying. She’s a bit out of your league mate.”

I didn’t mind. We were at Trisha’s in Soho, or maybe the Hideout, or is it called the New Evaristo Club? No one seems to know. It is technically a private members bar but anyone can come in as long as they like the look or you or don’t dislike the look of you too much.

There is a doorway at which a man sometimes stands, you then go through a hallway that looks like the entrance to a not very prosperous accountant’s office. Head downstairs and you come into murky little room decorated with pictures of boxers and mafia types and British and Italian flags on the walls. The tables are formica and the toilets are basic.

The best thing about Trisha’s is that you never know what you are going to find or who you will meet at the bottom of those stairs. That night there was a man playing Kate Bush numbers on a guitar in a trad jazz style.

When I find the entrance I am always amazed that this place is still here or that it even exists at all. It is like a half-remembered film that has sprung to life.

Trisha’s, 57 Greek Street, Soho, London W1D 3DX
 

I went to meet my little brother for our usual Saturday drink at The Hare on Cambridge Heath Road. Whilst I was waiting for him to turn up, I pondered what I liked about this place so much.

Initial signs to the unwary aren’t that positive. The carpet is worn and some of the seats have repaired with gaffer tape. A few of the clientele look a little insalubrious. On a Saturday afternoon there will be football shirts and shaven-headed men shouting at the telly, things I normally hate.

London pubs tend staffed by itinerant Poles and Australians who are here to make money and, for all their friendliness, are not committed to the place at which they work. They seem to change every week. Not so at the Hare. The landlord’s, Julian, presence permeates this place. The beer is excellent because Julian is interested in real ale (traditional unpasterurised English beer which is notoriously difficult to keep.) He is a jazz fan so they have jazz on a Sunday. The girls who work there know what you want to drink and will serve it with a saucy smile.

Whereas most pubs in London especially in the fashionable East End attract tribes, the Hare is a real focus for the community. You get old people, young people, black people, white people, middle-aged mods, trendy girls with silly haircuts, the beautiful people and the local builders.

Best of all the Hare makes no pretence towards gastronomy, food means crisps or you can try and persuade them to let you eat a kebab from next door with your pint.
There aren’t many places like this left but the Hare seems to be thriving. Oh and did I mention that it’s cheap. .

The Hare, 505 Cambridge Heath Road, Bethnal Green, London. E2 9BU.

Visitors to London will probably be amazed by the number of kebab shops there are here. They will wonder at the huge grey piece of meat that slowly turns in the windows and wonder who would dare eat such a thing. Then they will look at the drunken hordes around them and find their question answered. Kebabs are to be avoided then? Not necessarily. . . .

Beity

Amongst all the dross there are a few places that marinate their own meat and make it up into donner kebabs. What to look for is instead of it being a mass of homogenous grey matter it instead looks like roughly chopped up roast lamb pressed together.

Beity

Where will I find these delicious creatures? Good hunting grounds are amongst the Turkish and Kurdish areas of Camden, Hackney and Finsbury Park.
Also good are some Syrian joints but the best tend to be Lebanese. You must head West and look for the word Shawarma.
Baalbak

Edgware Road where there are hundreds of Lebanese restaurants is the obvious place also Queensway, Notting Hill and along the Harrow Road. There are also a few places in central London, Chelsea and further West.

Baalbak

I love Beity on 92 Queensway not least for its gleaming interior but my absolute favourite is Baalbak on 91 Golborne Road in Notting Hill. The lamb is usually beautifully tender, charred on the outside and slightly pink in the middle and flavoured with lemon, garlic and rosemary. Wrapped up in a flat bread with some pickles, chilli and garlic sauces – it is a heavenly snack.

Good Turkish kebabs:

Anatolia; 253 Mare Street, Hackney

Woody Grill, 1 Camden Road, Camden

Go further: Read here where in Istanbul Adventureist eats giant kebabs.

 
Chutney’s, 124 Drummond Street

England is famous for its Indian restaurants. In many parts of the country they are the only places where you can get an edible meal. Most London guides send lovers of Indian food to the peripheries: to Brick Lane (terrible food), to Green Street (it’s a slum) or to Southall (it’s not even in London.)

This is not necessary. There is superb, cheap Indian food to be had within zone 1. Fitzrovia – the area between Oxford Street and the Euston Road is teeming with delicious eateries but first you must go to Drummond Street.

Drummond Street is how I imagine Brick Lane used to be like before it became a tourist destination. There are grocers selling exotic vegetables, Halal butchers, Ambala (112 Drummond Street) which sells those sickening sweets made from condensed milk and incredible Samosas.

My favourite place is Ravi Shankar’s (133-5 Drummond Street), a vegetarian restaurant so good that I ate there 3 times before I realised it didn’t sell meat or fish. To compensate, there is a place next door that only sells char grilled meats.

Head south onto the Euston Road and you will come to the shockingly pink Rasa Express (327 Euston Road) This is the fast food outpost of the famous Stoke Newington Restaurant. Onto 41 Fitzroy Square is the Indian YMCA where you can get yourself clean, you can have a good meal (try the fish curry) and you can do whatever you feel (apart from take in alcohol.)

Finally walk west to 57 Cleveland Street for a Masala Dosa (a kind of rice pancake stuffed with potato or meat or spinach) at Ragam. At none of these places will you spend more than £10 a head including drinks. If you know where to go, London can be a Mecca for the bargain gourmand.

Go further: Fancy Indian food? Read about Mu Foo going Goa in Lisbon here.