As with most of life’s treasures, The Nags Head can be found in a bit of an alleyway. Well, the road may not technically be an alley, but it’s one layer of housing and traffic away from the street you’re probably walking on to find it, making it feel like something pleasantly hard to find, also a good sign. A picture of a horse with the name of the pub inscribed sits above an awning and a couple of short tables that allow for some jovial alleyway drinking.
Inside, The Nags Head is as impressive as a London pub can be, a misshapen interior space dotted with so many bizarrely unique displays that they’re interesting enough to remedy a dull conversation inside. In fact, the walls are so thick with all manner of photo and photograph that the ceiling has been claimed as well, layers of paper depicting a million different images gently swaying in the interior breeze, craning for the ground.
The tables are low, as is customary for a neighborhood London pub, but so too here is the bar itself, sunken into the ground, presumably under the weight of the sheer volume of beer served here over the years. Short chairs provide bar seating roughly at eye level with the bartender and a back area can be seen from the chair, where food is more typically served a few steps down and around the bar itself, something like a maze of beer and pub food.