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Sitting in this quaint little back-street boozer, you can easily forget that you're in the middle of one of the world's great financial centres. The Cockpit is ancient, dating back to the 18th century. But pub yore puts this as the site of Shakespeare's Blackfriars house, two centuries before that.
The name comes from the age-old pastime of pitting rival cockerels against each other for the amusement of onlookers. Those onlookers would stand in the gallery, still present (or perhaps pastiche) above the bar. Look out for plenty of other cock motifs around the walls.
It's one of the few 'real' pubs in the Square Mile, every inch the traditional drinking den our grandfathers would have felt happy in. The couple running the show make a point of nattering to everyone who comes in, making for a real sense of community in a part of town where you'd least expect it.
A small selection of old-fashioned beers — Landlord, Pedigree, Harveys, that kind of thing — and simple pub fare should keep you happy. A recent refurb of the upholstery and removal of the beer-stained carpet has freshened things up a little, but this is still the good old Cockpit with its good old carpet.
