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Explaining Londoners

1. Does everyone drink like Winston Churchill?

Thanks largely to a film and television conspiracy (and the complete works of Kingsley Amis), many Americans view London as a place where everyone drinks, all the time. And it’s sort of true. According to Britain’s National Health Service, 12 percent of Londoners (about 900,000 people) drink more than five days a week. And, according to a 2009 report, as many as 17 million working days are lost to booze each year in the United Kingdom. Ravi Somaiya

2. That said, what’s the best off-the-beaten-path pub?

London excels in luxurious hotel bars and gastro pubs, but more than once upon entering a local pub on my own, I’ve felt a bit like that unfortunate stranger blowing into the saloon in a western. Not long ago, though, I fell for an unassuming pub in Peckham called the Gowlett Arms. It had good, real English ale — they have Fuller’s London Pride on tap — in addition to a lavishly tattooed bartender, Betty, and regulars who were more than happy to talk to a stranger. After a few pints, I recalled that I was just steps away from Peckham Rye, where William Blake claimed to have had his first vision of angels. If I lived nearby, I’d be there every other night. Rosie Schaap

3. Are Londoners psyched for the Olympics?

Absolutely not. In the annual tourist rush of July and August, London is like a cranky father compelled to host a party for his teenage daughter — awkward, uncomfortable and simmering with barely concealed fury at the ghastly, noisy interlopers who insist on having a good time. It is reasonable to expect that all these hostile instincts will only be amplified by a larger-than-usual influx of people who can’t pronounce “Leicester Square” properly. So there’s that.

Also: Londoners are not impressed by anything, at all, ever. Everything has already happened here — including the Olympics, twice, in 1908 and 1948. Sometimes, the weary stoicism of Londoners is a boon. But it is an outlook instantly affronted by any suggestion that any future happening is going to be profitable, transformative or, worst of all, pleasant. Andrew Mueller

3a. But there is one exception . . .

With an estimated 450,000 tourists needing beds for the 2012 Olympics, Londoners of all income levels are excited to lease out their apartments for ungodly sums. “The price point seems to be around four times the regular rental price,” says Jemma Scott, head of residential corporate services for Knight Frank, the venerable real estate outfit. On OneFineStay.com, a Craigslist for short-term rentals, a six-bedroom, three-bath home in Notting Hill is going for almost $3,200 dollars a night. The Chelsea town house of the retired soccer star Sol Campbell is on the market for $120,000 a week during the Games. “But that’s not to say it’s all good inventory,” warns Guy van der Westhuizen, founder of Ivy Lettings, a firm specializing in high-end quickie rentals. A flat in working-class East London can still be had for $230 dollars a night. Mickey Rapkin

4. How smart are London cabdrivers?

Steve McNamara, the general secretary of the Licensed Taxi Drivers’ Association, who has driven black cabs for more than 30 years, thinks they’re very, very smart.

What, exactly, is the Knowledge?

Every London black-cab driver has to know, by heart, every street and driving route within a six-mile radius of Charing Cross Station. There are 26,000 streets in London and approximately 148,000 places of interest. It can take more than three years just to prepare for the test, and it can take years to complete. It dates back to Oliver Cromwell, whom you’ve probably never heard of.

Cromwell? Really?

Oliver Cromwell was a guy who led in the English Civil Wars during the mid-17th century. He was very upset by the fact that the cab men at the time weren’t very well behaved, so he introduced formal licensing in, I believe, 1654.

There was a study done a decade ago at University College London, in which researchers discovered that —

— cabdrivers have bigger brains? Yes, I’m aware of that study. I’ve always felt smarter than most people anyway. There are cabdrivers who saw this recession coming long before the financiers.

Do you make snap decisions about passengers based on the way they’re dressed or their body language?

Never. That’s the first thing you learn when you’re driving a cab. You can never judge a book by its cover. Ever. Eric Spitznagel

5. But if you had to make a snap judgment about a Londoner, how would you do it?

Start with the newspaper he or she is reading.

The Daily Telegraph
Older conservatives who mourn the loss of the empire by placing cricket before family. Last truly happy on D-Day.

The Guardian (or The Observer on Sundays)
Bikram-practicing middle-class liberals preoccupied with ending all wars and rolling their own cigarettes.

The Times of London
Definitely a member of the political and corporate elite; fancies him-or herself as tolerant; has zero middle-class friends.

The Independent
Slightly depressed and overeducated underachievers who are really worried about the environment.

The Daily Mail
Middle-class housewives who live in fear of rising house prices, Elton John and Gypsies. Loves: Lady Thatcher, talented-pet stories and George Clooney.

The Daily Express
Intolerant, easily outraged and yet to recover from Lady Diana’s death. Constant fear of terrorist attack is blunted by gin and reality TV.

The Daily Mirror
A really great night out starts with binge drinking at the greyhound track.

The Sun
Beloved by working-class conservatives eager to read a tabloid that goes for the jugular whether the topic is politics, soccer or topless women.

Roger Bennett

6. Is London really as expensive as everyone says?

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The true barometer of economic behavior is nestled between the chocolate-chip cookies and marshmallow goo in a corner shop of the celebrity heartland that is Primrose Hill. On the shelves of this northwest London grocer, a very in-demand box of Lucky Charms costs about $14. While the neighborhood’s pop stars and celebrity chefs wouldn’t be caught dead with such an item, the cereal does have one very demanding constituency: expat Americans. “They go crazy when a new cereal comes in,” says one baffled cashier. “They say it tastes better, but I don’t know — I can’t afford them.” Tim Samuels

7. Why are Londoners always apologizing?

Londoners’ air of permanent regret can seem bewildering and perverse. They apologize when they bump into you, when you bump into them, when they walk into doors, when they drop things, when they want to speak, when they are flustered, when they disagree, when they are brushing past you, when they cannot hear, when they can hear all too well and as a reflex when they cannot think of what else to say. But by no means does saying “sorry” mean the speaker is in fact sorry. Frequent apology is one of an arsenal of clever tricks Londoners employ to obscure their true feelings and remain opaque to outsiders and possibly even to themselves. Sarah Lyall

7a. A quick guide to what Londoners say and what they really think.

“Don’t mention it . . . ”
“Please continue to thank me . . . ”

“I’m not being funny, but . . . ”
Prelude to a socially unacceptable remark

“I’m running 10 minutes late . . . ”
“I will be there anywhere from 30 minutes to an hour after we agreed to meet”

“I have half a mind to say something . . . ”
“I am adding to years’ worth of unspoken resentment that I will silence with claret or a very dry white wine”

“Musn’t complain . . . ”
“I have just complained”

“Probably my fault . . . ”
“This is your fault.”

Ravi Somaiya

8. Ken or Boris?

The irrepressible mavericks Ken Livingstone and Boris Johnson are the only two men to have held the office of Mayor of London since it was created — Ken from 2000 to 2008, Boris from 2008 to now. And one of them will win another term in the election in May. It says much about both of them that they are instantly recognizable from, and almost invariably referred to, by their first names. Otherwise, they have nothing in common.

Ken: In office, this veteran of the Labor Party’s far left fulfilled some of the grimmer predictions that he’d convert City Hall into a free-range zoo for the left: he formally apologized for London’s role in the slave trade; acknowledged President George W. Bush’s visit by hosting a “peace reception,” to which Bush was not invited; and fondly imagined the mass lynching of the Saudi royal family. He also proved shrewdly amenable to business and building and unclogged London’s sclerotic streets with a bold congestion charge.

Boris: Forever giving the impression of having either just waked or not slept, he has negotiated a rigorously orthodox Tory path through education, journalism and politics — Eton, Oxford, The Times, Member of Parliament for the impeccably snooty constituency of Henley-on-Thames. Yet he has horrified nobody more than his generally strait-laced political allies. He has also aroused a certain amount of confused, furtive affection in people who would not normally vote Conservative without a pistol to the temple. And the most visible legacy of his term is a citywide bicycle-rental scheme first mooted during Ken’s second term but irreversibly known as Boris Bikes.

Whom to vote for?

Neither shows any inclination to be anything but himself. Ken recently suggested that a constructive reaction to the financial crisis might be to “hang a banker a week until the others improve.” Boris described Ken’s St. Patrick’s Day celebrations as “lefty crap.” Either way, it won’t be boring. Andrew Mueller

9. Who is the Donald Trump of London?

For that and other contemporary curiosities, here’s a handy London-New York cultural cheat sheet. Adam Leff and Richard Rushfield

Celebrity-Studded Art Happening
London: David Hockney at the Royal Academy
New York: Cindy Sherman at MoMA

Ridiculously Exclusive Club
London: The Arts Club
New York: SoulCycle Union Square

Attention-Loving Billionaire
London: Philip Green
New York: Donald Trump

Adorable Indie-Pop Phenomenon
London: Florence and the Machine
New York: Elizabeth and the Catapult

Starbucks Count
London: 237
New York: 231

Lowbrow TV Addiction
London: “The Only Way Is Essex”
New York: “Jersey Shore”

Cool-Kid Hideout
London: Peckham
New York: Bushwick

Cranky Critic
London: Mark Kermode
New York: Al Sharpton

New Literary Sensation
London: “Pigeon English,” by Stephen Kelman
New York: “The Art of Fielding,” by Chad Harbach

Daily Unavoidable Question
London: Is Kate pregnant?
New York: How many points did Lin score?

9a. Who is the Snooki of London?

How does an Essex girl turn on the light in the morning? She opens the car door. Boom!

When they began shooting Britain’s answer to “Jersey Shore,” the creators of ITV 2’s “The Only Way Is Essex” — of which Kate Middleton is a professed fan — could have only dreamed of Lauren Pope, a reality star with a knack for being photographed falling-down drunk in short dresses. Yet every personal disaster, as they say, begets another media opportunity. Now an actress, D.J., producer and entrepreneur, Pope was one of 40,000 Britons with breast implants so dangerous that they needed to be removed. That episode was broadcast last weekend. Kaleem Aftab

9b. Who is Stephen Kelman?

Londoners like nothing better than a rags-to-riches tale. Kelman, 35, grew up in council housing in Luton and worked odd jobs until he started writing seriously in 2005. An unpublished novel and several screenplays followed before, legend has it, his manuscript about the murder of a Ghanaian boy in a London housing project prompted a bidding war won by Bloomsbury for six figures. (Chance, what a marketing tool!) “Pigeon English” appeared on the Man Booker Prize shortlist, and Kelman is now a minor celebrity in a city where authors can still be such. Kaleem Aftab

9c. Wait — is Kate Middleton pregnant?

No. But that’s beside the point. Londoners bet on everything. The bookmaker Paddy Powers has conjured odds on royal baby names, ranging from the distinctly possible — Diana (8 to 1), Frances (Diana’s middle name, 5 to 1) and John (Diana’s father, 6 to 1) — to the more creative concepts that appear to hinge on the extent to which a vengeful William wants to make a statement: Wallis at 100 to 1, Fergie at 250 to 1 or Fiona (after the “Shrek” princess) 40 to 1. Roger Bennett

10. Wanna eat there? Sorry, they’re booked until Christmas. Eat here instead.

Desired Restaurant: The River Cafe
Instead, try Zucca, in Bermondsey, where meat or fish dishes run about $24 (as opposed to $50-something) and can include grilled pork belly with artichokes and bright salsa verde or roast hake with broccoli rabe. Antipasti (winter-squash tempura; sausage and ricotta bruschetta) are about $8, and main-course pastas — like pappardelle with pork-and-fennel ragù — cost around $16.

Desired Restaurant: St. John Bar and Restaurant
As an alternate, trek out east to Bethnal Green and try Brawn, where, after a charcuterie platter ($19), you might find pig’s trotters with a vivid sauce gribiche ($13) or snail, oxtail and salsify pie ($17) — or, for the less adventurous, grilled seafood (around $16) or halibut with crab tortellini and those delicious little brown shrimps they get in the U.K. ($27).

Desired Restaurant: The Ivy
The menu at Canteen (several branches) hits some of the same British comfort food marks (macaroni and cheese at $13; Lancashire hot pot for $20; all-day breakfast), plus sustainable fish (market price) and the best Scotch eggs you can imagine, cooked to order ($6 each).

Desired Restaurant: The Fat Duck
Instead, try the Corner Room, in Bethnal Green, Chef Nuno Mendes’s alternative to fancy dining, which still remains cutting edge. Figure around $40 for three courses. The menu changes all the time but has included dishes like poached artichoke with São Jorge cheese; Ibérico pork and Portuguese bread pudding; and cured cod with chicken-liver ragù. They take no reservations, so you may want to go at an off-hour or be prepared to wait. Edward Schneider

11. Does anyone know why Londoners kiss one another on both cheeks?

According to Richard Price, the Kent-born chairman of the history department at the University of Maryland, the double kiss began migrating from France in the 1970s. It took hold a few decades later. “Once the Chunnel came into service” in 1994, he says, “you would get French people coming into London to shop at Marks & Spencer, especially when the pound was weak.” And their affectionate greeting, he suggests, slowly but surely permeated the more cosmopolitan realms of London society. “It’s a reflection of [London’s] Europeanization,” he says. Oh, how times have changed! “In my parents’ generation,” he notes, “kissing on the cheek was considered an intrusion of personal space.” Jon Kelly

More in the Magazine »

A correction was made on 
March 3, 2012

An article on Page 34 this weekend about London and Londoners misspells the surname of a member of the royal family at one point. As the article correctly notes elsewhere, she is Kate Middleton, not Middleteon.

How we handle corrections

Illustrations by Emma Kelly.

A version of this article appears in print on  , Page 34 of the Sunday Magazine with the headline: Why Are They Always Apologizing?. Order Reprints | Today’s Paper | Subscribe

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