The Victory

The Victory. Vyner Street E2. Becks Vier on tap. No crisps. Gent came midway and started DJing using a mp3 player and speaker. £10 minimum on card. No heating. Lovely place to start.

We marched on through Cambridge Heath’s cobbled streets, past-old warehouses now home to the edgy artistic engine of post-industrial Hackney. Beyond Tory-bashing graffiti and neon-lit signs we reached The Victory, appropriately splayed on the corner of Vyner Street in a V-shape that Churchill himself would be proud of.

It’s a cosy pub with classic curtains, plenty of wood panels and jazz on the jukebox.
Over at the tiny pool table, a seasoned chap in red trousers appeared to be sharking unsuspecting punters. Service was succinct and the Guinness was sublime. All was right in the world until Herring sharpened his knife and pointed out that we were three pubs in and no one had yet mentioned #WiganGate. Et tu, Minty? Thus ensued 30-minutes of savage mockery and a fair bit of revisionism. Thankfully a hasty escape was once again required, so we scooted off to board the D6 bus for a singalong en route to Mile End.