Is it a bit wrong to go to a pub specifically because you know a cat that lives there? Probably but fuck it; cats are ACE.
Run by the slightly mad looking Roxy Beaujolais the Seven Stars is a tiny little pub tucked away on a quiet street just off Chancery Lane. Walking in I'm greeted as babes and you immediately feel part of the furniture.
The pub itself is full of charm but I'm there to see the cat basically. It wasn't long before he appeared sporting a ruff and walking around like a lion stalks the savannah.
I'm made immediately happy by the sight. Then I'm struck by the thought that as a thirty three year old man this may not be normal...
We were sat next to a table of mad elderly people celebrating a birthday and laughing like teenagers. With clientele like this I couldn't help but fall in love with the place.
The decor could be described as eccentric; crazy tat, photos of a younger and pretty hot looking Roxy, theatre posters, and pictures of the original pub cat. You get the feeling it's all an extension of the landlady's personality and that is not a bad thing.
It's not all cats and tat though as the food was pretty decent as well. I went for portion of corned beef hash chosen from the small chalkboard menu.
Whilst looking suspiciously like cat food the meal was good and filling. Several more Guinness later we walked back into the cold stuffed but completely in love with the pub (read drunk) and slightly enamoured with young Roxy as well.