Despite being a long walk from a high street in outer West London, The Scotsman is very busy for a drab Monday lunchtime. Before I open the door, I hear loud voices and music, at odds with its austere-looking Edwardian exterior. I pause, wondering what welcome I, a brown drinker, will receive in a locals’ pub unfamiliar to me. I needn’t have worried. Two old Asian boozers glued to their barstools nod when I approach, and the brown bartender smiles. The decor includes a large portrait of Maharaja Ranjit Singh,…
