Towpath is every Londoner’s karmic reward for surviving six months of feeling like our will to live has been hijacked by nefarious drizzle. Every winter, this charmer of a seasonal cafe near Haggerston station goes into hibernation. But then—cue Vivaldi’s ‘Spring’ violin crescendo—it emerges like a trendy little crusty-eyed hedgehog and at the slightest wink of sunshine, this stretch of Regent’s Canal turns into London’s most desirable and dopamine-inducing scene. Towpath’s formula for sun-soaked success is simple—gloriously kitsch vintage plates, vitamin D exposure, and bright comforting classics with vinaigrette zing. The scribbled blackboard menu changes regularly, but generally you’re going to be kicking it technicolour with hot pink radishes dipped in smoky taramasalata or spooning sunny blobs of mustard onto Toulouse sausages. Canal boats cruise by, passing joggers eye up your wedge of apple cake, and the servers in aprons are exceptionally gifted at helping everyone invent reasons to have a second glass of orange wine on a Wednesday lunchtime. The only teeny tiny drawback to this level of canalside bliss is that everyone else wants in on the serotonin action too. Towpath’s queue increases in direct correlation to the degrees on your weather app. But it’s a line you should lean into. Where else in this grey city can you pose and debut a new pair of sunglasses while witnessing a horny mallard attempt to flirt with an unsuspecting moorhen? Nowhere. That’s exactly why Towpath isn’t just a summer highlight, it’s our definitive London alfresco essential.