Step free (suitable for wheelers) pub crawl in London

Haha! How awesome!!!

I had a workshop in Gerard Street, which is the centre of Chinatown in Soho London. Above us there was a Chinese laundry and below there was a dentist. In the basement there was a recording studio. Across the road there was a book shop specialising in porn, which was all under the counter in those days. The rest of the street was owned by Chinese. Many restaurants. I used to teach guitar to a restaurant owner's daughter. I'd get free pork and rice and many meals for giving her lessons which lasted half an hour or so. This went on for a while before she decided the guitar was not for her. Meanwhile I was repairing guitars in my workshop with a guy called Sam Lee. We had many Famous people bringing their guitars in for repair or customisation. One of them called his guitar 'my baby'. He loved his guitar so much it terrified me to touch it in case something went wrong. I've seen all sorts in Gerard Street. One woman out of her head on drugs staggered down the middle of the street chasing an imaginary butterfly, cars sounding their hooters and people staring at her from the pavement. Anyone for flied lice? Detectives or police dressed in civilian clothes would frequently lean against a shop wall, a newspaper for a prop. They'd be scanning the street for people dealing heroin or anyone who looked suspicious. 19 Gerard St was a special place for me. I was 21 going on 22 when I started working there. Yeah ... Chinatown. It ain't what it used to be. London ain't what it used to be. John Cleese was right. London has changed beyond recognition. I used to look out of my workshop window and gaze down at the street below. You'd see life played out in the most strange of ways. I'd pick up an Oz magazine, Friends and other publications on my way to work. Oz was was subsequently banned for publishing explicit material.  The established moth-eaten politicians of the day, religious leaders along with outraged police chiefs could not bear the audacious magazine which tore the old established order apart. Telephone kiosks were adorned with cards advertising correction lessons and all manner of sexually dubious messages. This was the 1970s. The swinging 60s had faded into history.  I was alive and well and London was the place to be.  My hair was down to my shoulders and I didn't have a care in the world. Very memorable days.