How Auberge Pub Sparked an Unforgettable London Connection

Auberge, central London When I walked into Auberge, a pub near Waterloo station in London, on Thursday 21 October 2021, I didn’t know a soul. By kicking-out time, I had 50 new friends. I’ve been back almost every Thursday since. On that fateful autumn night, I was at a bit of a low ebb. Recently single, hurtling towards 40 … To get out of my rut, I had signed up for a taster session with London City Voices, a pop choir. I knew how uplifting singing could be – I’d been in another choir pre-Covid – but the real draw was LCV’s post-rehearsal pub singalongs. Still, I was a bit nervous about the pub part. What if I ended up on my own in the corner? Not a chance – I’d never met a friendlier bunch. I got chatting to a man clutching a whole bottle of red wine and a single glass. “I just buy a bottle to save going back to the bar all the time,” Arasan explained. I realised I had found my people. An hour later, I was belting out Gloria Gaynor’s I Will Survive, then getting a second bottle of red to share with Arasan and another choir member, Maddy. Our Thursday wine club is still going strong today, and has expanded to nights in, days out and holidays together. A few weeks ago, I missed choir rehearsal to go ice-skating with my friend Ellen. Afterwards, I took her along to Auberge. It felt like taking her through the wardrobe to Narnia; this ordinary pub is transformed into a magical place full of friendship, laughter and song. Being there is the highlight of my week (even in boring old dry January, when I reluctantly swap the red wine for alcohol-free beer). Not every pub would welcome a rowdy bunch of singers, but the staff at Auberge have the patience of saints, despite having to switch on the brightest lights and force us out of the door at closing time every week. We have our own area to sing in, get a discount on drinks, and even have a couple of groupies among the regulars. Customers often film us singing, give us a round of applause or drunkenly join in. Sometimes, there are couples who look like they’re on dates. I always feel a bit guilty for interrupting their quiet drink with our rousing mega musicals mashup, but I guess it makes for a funny first-date story. Speaking of which, after a few months of drinking at Auberge, I started to notice a choir member called Neil. Actually, he was hard to miss, with his loud tenor voice, exuberant dress sense and propensity to hug everyone in the pub after one too many pints of Guinness. We’ve been going out for nearly four years now. Cheers, Auberge.