My first trip to Londres I was working with the Royal Festival Ballet, and eventually was deposited at the "Jig" by one of the dancers.
Cornered for an eternity by someone I was *certain* was speaking English, though the accent was SO thick I couldn't really understand ONE WORD of what he was rabbiting on about, all I could do, attempting to be a Good Yank and wishing to make a good impression, was produce the occasional, non-commital "Oh," and "um-hmm."
But the place was lively otherwise, if also a grade A fire-trap.
Well, it's long gone as far as I can tell, but there's no dearth of friendly watering-holes in The Big Limes, though our Friends Across The Pond don't seem to have gotten the word about NOT smoking...