One question I get asked from time to time is “why have you got it in for Caversham?”. And every time that happens I allow myself a little sigh and then explain that nothing could be further from the truth. I go on to say that this misconception stems from a review I wrote back in 2017, of a wine bar called the Tipsy Bean which is no longer there. In it I said that, given Caversham’s enviable location and comparative affluence, it ought to be nicer than it was. That was it, no more or less than that, but from the reaction you’d think I’d taken a colossal dump on the floor in the middle of Caversham Library. As I said, I still get asked about it now.

Since I wrote that piece in 2017, Caversham has managed to attract two excellent cafes in the shape of Geo Cafe and The Collective. A Spanish delicatessen, Serdio Ibericos, and Four Bears Books have both opened on Prospect Street. At the top of that road you have The Last Crumb, a lovely spot for an al fresco pint and pizza, and of course Prospect Street is also home to Clay’s Kitchen, one of Reading’s very best restaurants. And closer to Caversham’s centre I shouldn’t leave out the excellent and trailblazing Vegivores, or the artisan market that happens every Sunday. 

All of that has sprung up in the last six years, so I’m going to go out on a limb and say that whether you like it or not, I just might have been right all along. And I always explain to Caversham residents that I wasn’t having a pop at the place. I was merely saying it didn’t have the retailers, coffee culture, good restaurants and independent businesses it deserved. I’m absolutely delighted that now it does. And I always know when I’m talking to a Caversham resident because living in Caversham is a bit like being a vegan or being into wild swimming: if you do it, you tend to tell strangers in the first five minutes.

If it sounds like I’m mocking anybody by saying that, believe me, it’s not without affection. Many other parts of Reading could learn a lot from Caversham in terms of civic pride and satisfaction with their lot in life. I mean, Caversham residents felt that way before Vegivores, The Collective, Clay’s, Geo Cafe and so on. They must feel thoroughly vindicated in 2024. Who can blame them?

Just to prove that I don’t have it in for Caversham, it plays a significant part in my own weekend routine. Currently Zoë works most Sundays, so provided I don’t have any plans, wake up at a sensible time and am not nursing a monster hangover I often wander across the river to the promised land. I’ll mooch over Christchurch Bridge or Reading Bridge – insert your hackneyed joke about bringing my passport here – and make my way to Geo Café for a coffee.

Once there I’ll sit inside when there’s space, which is rarely, and outside when it’s busy. Either way, over a latte I’ll pretend to read my paperback, tap away at my phone and enjoy catching snippets of all the conversations around me. People watching in Caversham is a very different experience to doing it in the likes of Workhouse or C.U.P., which again is a far from derogatory observation.

If the owner Keti is around I will try to cajole her into stopping at my table for a few minutes and filling me in on what she’s been up to, all her schemes and tribulations. One of the many things I love about Keti is her almost superhuman ability to have three conversations with you simultaneously, changing lanes between one and another without indicating: it keeps you sharper than any Sudoku.

But if Keti is away fighting fires elsewhere, which lately is more often than not, I’ll finish my coffee and amble over to the Artisan Market. I might grab some croquetas or a bocadillo from Miss Croquetas, who are the same people as Serdio Ibericos and, if I’m lucky, a masala hot chocolate from Filter Coffee.

I’ll look around and enjoy all the comings and goings. I’ll hope not to bump into anybody I know – not because I’m antisocial, but because I rarely look my best on a Sunday morning. And finally, once I’ve stretched my legs, caffeinated, had lunch and felt part of something, a little RG4 flâneur, I’ll wander home. Caversham’s rather nice these days. No wonder people like to go on about living there.

Anyway, a few weeks ago I was walking to Caversham, probably for the first time in a while what with having been banjaxed by Covid, and I spotted an unfamiliar café on the ground floor of Thames Quarter, the apartment block the opposite site of the roundabout to the Thames Water building, where the BMW garage used to be. I’d dimly known that something was opening there, and I’d made a mental note to check up on it, but this was the first time I’d seen it in the flesh. It was called Honesty, which struck me as a brave name for a café. I resolved to go back at my earliest opportunity, and as it happens my earliest opportunity was last Sunday.