The thing about life in Soho, my life in Soho, is the excitement. When I step out of my flat, I have no idea what the day has in store for me.

I’m lucky in that I live in Duck Lane, with the convenience of being opposite The Duck pub. My flat is smallish, but I have all the space I need.

I live rent free, I’ll tell you about that one day, but it made life easy in the early days.

Below my apartment is my second favourite pub, The King of Bohemia, and on the street is Berwick Street Market.

People talk a lot about the “gentrification” of Soho and, on the surface, it seems like their moaning and groaning might be justified. But under the surface, things are not as they may seem. Life here hasn’t changed as much as people will have you believe.

I said The King was my second favourite pub so I imagine you’re wondering where the better place is?

It’s The Duck. A short walk along Berwick Street. This is where my Soho life started.

The Duck

From the outside, The Duck looks like a local’s pub, plain and often invisible: not a place that screams comfort and good food. Nothing to catch the eye of tourists passing by on their way down Broadwick Street, and nothing so interesting it would tempt them away from The Blue Posts or Soho Hotel up near Oxford Street. If they even notice it, it’s just another old Soho pub, uninspiring and tucked away, which suits the regulars fine.

Inside, though, it’s another world. Wood panelling, a bar polished to perfection, and walls lined with photos of regulars, faces from years gone by, like a Soho family tree. It’s warm, worn, and filled with an electric tension, always on the edge of something happening. And behind the bar is Beth. She has a glamorous style and a down-to-earth soul. She parties hard and doesn’t suffer fools gladly, with her vintage platinum curls and those fitted, classic dresses that feel as much a part of Soho as the pub itself. She’s not the kind of girl to get on the wrong side of, but for friends she’ll go to the ends of the Earth, a real gem.

The function room on the first floor carries on the memories, with photos from decades past lining the walls. It’s seen everything from quiet gatherings to utter debauchery, always ready for whatever the night might bring. It’s a part of The Duck’s charm, a place that’s held its ground while Soho’s world changed around it. It’s had its fair share of influence on world events too, but those are stories for later.

For me, The Duck is far more than an average pub; it’s the centre of my world. It’s where I’ve met most of my friends, shared plenty of great times and spent far too many nights with a bottle of Beth’s reserve gin, watching the best parts of my Soho life unfold. It’s where I express myself.