Ah, the enigma that is Richmond’s riverside on a sunny day. Crossing the bridge into Richmond, on the left: not a blade of grass available as the masses, serviced by three or four pubs, jostle for a few extra inches… just enough to perhaps sit comfortably. And on the right, a two-minute walk away? Manicured lawns, meadows, an underpass that extends the abundant space to the quiet fields and gardens of Richmond Hill – enough room to cartwheel and picnic by the tranquil Thames should the fancy take you – but no pubs. Britain in a nutshell.
Beer respite, for those that do decide to turn right, comes quite literally in Stein’s – venue and receptacle – although smaller versions than the 1 litre jugs are available. Six or seven Bavarian brews – a good range from Erdinger and a particularly refreshing Adlerkonig – keep the atmosphere, erm, chatty. But take note: this faithful homage to the beer gardens you find next to streams in Munich parks is not a pub.
In fact, you have to be eating to be drinking, but that’s no real hardship here. Imported sausages, in particular the currywurst – smothered in a sweet, tangy sauce, and schnitzels as big as your face should be the first on any order. An overly processed meatloaf maybe not so, while spud accompaniments come in the form of excellent ‘sliced and pan-fried’ with bacon, mashed, or a rather zesty potato salad. Busy times will see you sharing the bench seating and lending to the German Beer Festival feel – in fact, the only thing missing is an oompah band.