The Kingdom of Clarendon Park is the best place you’ll ever live
You never know what you’ve got ’til its gone
Don’t take Clarendon Park for granted.
We might moan about it now, with its crazy neighbours, screaming children and the odd deranged alcoholic wandering down the street muttering the works of George Orwell to himself, but one day- certificate in hand- we must leave it behind in order to begin the pretence of adulthood.
So what makes Clarendon Park so magical?
It’s the quintessential banter central for UoL Students
Where else can you have your raucous pres shut down three times in one night due to the 1:1 ratio of young mums and students? Yet its not an issue, you can just continue your party at the next gaff which is just a two minute walk away, and then the next, and the next.
And for posties? Back to Clarendon obviously.
Food Factory in hand, we saunter all 10 paces from the O2 to Howard Road for a film and a post-night out debrief. A wild Evingtonian appears, “Can I stay at yours?”. Her housemates are long gone and it’s “such a long walk, and it’s cold”. We take her under our wing, because Clarendon Park is a place for friends. And they can join in drunkenly seeing how many food items can be shoved in a George Foreman until the early hours of Thursday morning.
The children of the damned
Walking home from a night out alone? Crossing the road during peak times? No problem. Clarendon Park provides a whole host of friendly helpers to assist you in your times of need. Taking a selfie with these amusing, albeit creepy-as-hell, mini statues is a UoL right of passage on a night out, and Clarendon just wouldn’t be the same with out them.
Another positive to these little hell-beasts is that they simultaneously encourage safer driving from residents and test your reflexes; catch one of these fuckers staring you down on your way home from training on a dark winters night and it’s no longer a case of fight or flight- it’s swerve, speed and try to calm your racing heart.
There are takeaways EVERYWHERE
12 Chinese, 11 Indians, 10 Pizza Places, nine Fish and Chips… Takeaways galore. Doesn’t matter what you’re craving for, Clarendon Park has got it to the power of 10.
Even if you weren’t craving, you are by the time you’ve walked home from uni past Vicky’s, Pavlos and TJs. And if that 100 yard walk to collect was too much, the majority will even deliver. So many takeaways and not enough time to sample them all.
Let the Hunger Games commence.
From Lytton to Leopold, by way of St Leonards…
Well done, you now possess mapping skills somewhere between Dora the Explorer and Indiana Jones – if you can find your way around Clarendon, you can find your way around anywhere.
Whichever bunch of geniuses mapped and planned this place sure were ahead of the game. The narrow streets and closed off cul-de-sacs ensure that no fallen, wet leaf is lost- may we walk on slippery sponginess for the rest of lives because once you enter Clarendon, you don’t leave – at least not out the side you wanted.
Once upon a time I took my driving test. I was never taught to bay park as it wasn’t necessary, my parallel parking skills were piss poor and although my left-reverse around a corner was executed with swift professionalism, when was I ever really gonna need that? How wrong I was.
Find yourself on a one-way cul-de-sac in Clarendon? Left corner reverse. Turn in the road is out of the question, theres no road left with all this damn double parking. Found yourself a space? Best to learn to parallel son or you can say good bye to your wing mirrors, and your bumper, and probably your hub caps too.
Two years and counting in this place, move over Stig.
All aboard the HMS Dry Dock
“Oh my God it’s a boat!” Not something you tend to notice on your first visit, but as you become a more frequent flyer (sailor), you realise with glee that this pub of yours does indeed have a bow and stern. Well done foggy-visioned drinker. Your observational skills are on point as per.
The social hub of a Wednesday night and the Shabangover nursing host of weekend football matches, the Dry Dock and its prime positioning near Clarendon and Uni is a must-visit for any bev-related endeavour. And they do a damn-fine cooked brekky.