Review

What you see is what you get. The Man in the Moon is JD Wetherspoon's foray into Camden, apart from the pub's trendier sibling - The Ice Wharf at Camden Lock. There aren't too many surprises here: cheap drinks, good food, and the usual eclectic selection of JD Wetherspoon regulars. Camden is such a pretentious place that most people would rather suffer a red-hot poker stuffed up the rusty bullet hole than frequent this type of pub, so it means most of the so-called 'trend-setters' - who forget that punk and Goth happened in the 70s, 80s and 90s - stay away!

Unlike the majority of JD Wetherspoon pubs in central London that have no formal outdoor areas, The Man in the Moon has not one but two - front and back. At the rear of the pub, through the patio doors which open wholly in the summer, there is a small garden area with metal tables and chairs, although most of the chairs are usually broken, and there's a huge bush that seems to have a life of its own. The bush moves, it shakes, it suddenly bursts to life; I'm unsure what the cause is, but there's some type of wildlife that has its home in this small corner of a Camden pub! If you're one of the (un)fortunates who manage to get a table outside the front of the pub, sitting on Chalk Farm Road, you're in a fortunate position to savour the exhaust fumes from the passing traffic.

The layout of The Man in the Moon is quite unique, with a split-level bar that abuts the large street-level area and also the larger rear area a few steps lower down. There is a grandiose staircase central to the main bar area, which takes you up to a dark, claustrophobic balcony area leading to the toilets. There are further tables, chairs and benches here, although the lack of daylight is unnerving.

Over the road and across the wall is the Camden Stables Market, a glorified charity-shop, where you can buy a wide-range of 'vintage' (i.e. second-hand) clothes that looked naff the first (and only) time they were popular. If you're inclined you can also purchase a selection of 'reclaimed' furniture (reclaimed from the bonfire); a sofa, for example, that's clearly threadbare, flea-infested and was the last resting place of some housebound dementia sufferer who lived, slept, pissed and died in it!

Too far off the beaten track to be a serious contender for the average Camden drinker unless you're desperate for one of the many, varied cheap drinks or good food.

Review by mr_psm