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The Garden of Earthly Delights by Hieronymus Bosch

I passed by a pub called The Hunter S. on my way to a friends house, carrying my guitar and a suitcase full of underwear. I was in between flats and needed a place to put the last of my things while I went away from London to live rent free for a couple of weeks in Malta and in Washington D.C.

The Hunter S.

That pub was made for me, I thought. From the outside, it looked exactly like a pub in East London would…