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Amongst the relentless 1980s sterility of London’s docklands is the wonderful, old, miraculously unscathed, small and friendly “Grapes” pub. It is truly an oasis in a desert of high-rises and steel and concrete. If you happen to be stuck at Canary Wharf and need to escape, it is definitely worth making the short walk along the river to the “Grapes”.

London’s docklands were extensively damaged by bombing during the second World War. After the war, they suffered further gradual decline until the 1980s, when Canary Wharf became Britain’s largest building site and the site of London’s biggest (and definitely brashest) new buildings. Somehow the “Grapes” survived both of these upheavals, and it is small and intimate and wooden and higgledy-piggledy. Thank goodness

I visited the “Grapes” for a pleasant hour on a sunny Wednesday afternoon. I sat in the corner and enjoyed a pint of Weston’s Pedigree Ale and a packet of pork scratchings from the bar. At my back, the high-tide Thames washed against the small wooden terrace at the front of the pub. Occasional small container barges chugged by, keeping other occasional tourist launches company. In front of me, and across the narrow bar counter, I could see a few locals struggling with the crossword. They were clearly locals (or possibly employees, or possibly both), as occasionally they would go behind the bar for another drink. The pub dog (a languid Alsatian) would occasionally wander through.

I would have stayed for more than one drink, but I hadn’t realised that the “Grapes” closes from 3:20 until 5:30 on Mondays to Thursdays. Before I left, I wandered upstairs to have a look at the pub’s small restaurant. It was closed when I got there (I had seen patrons coming down the stairs half an hour before), but I could see half-a-dozen tables and a big window overlooking the river. It looks simple and relaxing, and the kind of place I would go back to.

The “Grapes” leads directly from the street onto the Thames, thereby blocking the Thames Path along the river. Coming out of the pub, I noticed a small plaque nearby – pointing out that Dickens had described the pub (as “The Six Jolly Friendship Porters” in “Our Mutual Friend”) as having red curtains “matching the customers’ noses”. It still feels like that kind of place. Very highly recommended