The Island Queen, Islington - pub details
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Address: 87, Noel Rd, London, N1 8HD [map] [gmap]
Tel: 08721 077 077 (ref 5282)
Angel (0.4 miles), Old Street (0.7 miles), Barbican (0.9 miles)
Essex Road (0.6 miles), Old Street (0.7 miles), London Barbican (1 mile)
Pub facilities/features:
- Quiz night (Tuesday), TV
- Food served, Real ale
- Credit cards accepted
NB: Information may be incomplete or out of date as this pub is not currently registered.
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> Current user rating: 6.4/10 (rated by 97 users)
> Local guides: London pub guide, North London pub guide, Islington pub guide
other pubs nearby:
Narrow Boat, Islington (0.1 miles), Duke of Cambridge, Islington (0.1 miles), Earl of Essex, Islington (0.1 miles), Prince of Wales, Islington (0.1 miles), Charles Lamb, Angel, Islington (0.2 miles) - see more nearby pubs
user reviews of the Island Queen, Islington
please note - reviews on this site are purely the opinion of site visitors, so don't take them too seriously.
5 most recent reviews of 68 shown - see all reviews
| I feel I should add my voice to the reviews below. Do not be fooled by the elegant exterior and handsome interior. This place is rubbish beyond measure. So-so beer, served by rude, incompetant staff to a bunch of wannabes who don't know better. What a waste. The locals should rise up and run them out of town on the end of their Conran pitchforks. DO NOT GO HERE. There are much, much nicer places to go nearby. disgruntledoftufnelpark - 20 Jan 2010 14:14 |
| I visited the Island Queen as part of a crawl the other Saturday night (09/01/10) and it has to go down as one of my all-time worst pub experiences. I’d visited previously and been a little disappointed, but was willing to forget this, as my drinking buddies were all keen to go. And so we gambolled in from the icy wastes of the evening, full of the joys of late winter, to pitch ourselves towards the bar through a crowd of the usual try-hard thirty-something Islingtonites clad in novelty t-shirts, ripped jeans, beanie hats and ironic ’taches. Two of our party – myself and one of the girls – stood at the front of the bar for a period of just shy of half an hour, being completely ignored by the ambling and disinterested bar staff, who proceeded to serve a good five or six people who’d arrived after us, as slowly as it is possible without actually ceasing to move entirely – actually quite a feat. When it was near-on impossible to ignore us any longer (I was dressed as a Mexican labourer pleading to get taken on the landscaping van and was jumping up and down on a pogo stick, holding up a sign saying PLEASE SERVE ME, HOMBRE – WE’RE SO VERY THIRSTY), I kicked off proceedings with a hearty greeting to the barman and a request for three pints of bitter and a couple of imported lagers. The chap (who, incidentally bore a fleeting resemblance to an elongated and ’tacheless Manuel of Fawlty Towers fame) poured our lagers V-E-R-Y S-L-O-W-L-Y… He then told us that the bitter we wanted had gone and offered us the other one on tap. He then poured a single pint of this one, only to inform us that this barrel had also gone... As there was no other bitter on, we ordered two Sierra Nevadas. One incredibly slow pint of this beverage later, he then told us in a fairly off-hand manner that he could not serve us any more draught beer because “the gas has gone”, not even muttering so much as a cursory apology… Losing the will to live by this point we settled for a couple of bottles and a lime and soda, just as we noticed that the barman next to him was in the process of pouring two pints of an adjacent beer for another customer… Admittedly ranting amongst ourselves just a little by this stage, we cut a swathe through the hordes of loudly braying Islingtonites and trotted upstairs… After one of us nearly broke his ankle on a bit of beading that had come loose from the stairs, we were pleased to find the upstairs room was looking a little empty… only to discover it had been reserved for a birthday from about two hours earlier. We then deduced that we had stepped into the middle of one of those scenarios in which the birthday boy has invited all 400 people from his Facebook friendlist (including the smart and pretty young secretary from work he’s been trying to boff unsuccessfully for the past 18 months), and only his brother and a desperate sociopath he vaguely remembers from primary school have turned up to celebrate with him. The three of them brooded darkly in the corner until they noticed us, whereupon they sprang into action, taking up as much of the floorspace as they could muster with their undernourished frames. Needless to say they grunted their refusal at us when we politely asked if we could borrow one of the five empty tables for 20 minutes or so. And so, feeling increasingly jaded and misanthropic, we trotted down the staircase, nearly breaking our necks on the loose beading and went outside. We said our hellos to the castrato brass monkeys who were having a cheeky fag on the pavement and supped our drinks, feeling almost at peace for the first time since we had arrived… And then, just as we had had the reckless temerity to relax for a moment, up popped our feckless barman to inform us that we couldn’t drink outside after ten… Given that we had reached the bar at around 9.05pm, I felt like glassing him on the spot. (Though I didn’t, gentle reader – especially if the police ask you any questions.) In short, it’s a tragedy that such a lovely-looking boozer can provide such a terribly unwelcoming atmosphere and unenjoyable drinking experience. You won’t be surprised to hear that I won’t be going back. Stockfield - 18 Jan 2010 13:39 |
| I live in the Islington area and have visited this pub on many occasions, usually lured by the great interior and relaxed friendly clientele. Each time I go I forget that the service is abysmal and the staff (with the exception of the nice girl with the dark hair) are rude. For example, some friends and I went last night (WHY WHY) to have some food and drinks in the upstairs room. We were first told that we were not allowed to eat upstairs despite the fact that the kitchen is next door to the upstairs bar, and then that if we wanted to eat we would have to order INDIVIDUALLY at the bar where we were told to wait and then carry our own food from the bar upstairs ourselves. When we asked if it wouldn't make more sense that we all wait upstairs ...it was a crowded bar on a friday night, we were told by the bar manager not to "get smart"! Eventually, after eating our supper in shifts, we had to prey upon the kindness of the very nice chef as one of our number had not received anything to eat and was still waiting patiently downstairs- we were told they had mucked up the order and would have to wait! Thank Heavens for the Charles Lamb. tdm - 9 Jan 2010 13:31 |
| As has been mentioned before, this is a good looking pub with woeful staff that don’t seem to know what they are doing. I was asked by the barman what I would like and I asked for a pint of Pride as the Doom Bar and Landlord were off, he then said that he was serving someone else and walked off to serve a girl at the other side of the bar – that was a first for me. I decided to cut my losses and drink elsewhere. Strongers - 4 Sep 2009 01:40 |
| Oh dear. Let me first say this pub used to be good. It now seems to of got away from itself and gone rather rubbish. Firstly on my last visit two of the three ales were off and the one left, London Pride, was dreadful. The taste was off, and the head resembled lumpy sewage foam. Yuk.....to the point that both the Noogs on the Pride felt sick after a while. Secondly the service seems shoddy - I waited an age to be served at the not very busy bar, whilst the bar staff wandered about a bit doing not much and looked generally grumpy with their lot. Thirdly the food took ages (granted we were warned) and wasn't really up to much - certainly didn't resemble the interesting sounding menu. Hey, it still looks nice inside though. Bonus! Far nicer pubs very close by - off the top of my head The Mucky Pup, The Rosemery Branch - shucks - even the slightly upperty organic place round the corner with all the rich peeps honking away in it. Honk! PissedMonkey - 27 Aug 2009 13:06 |
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