Denmark Street was the destination for an afternoon of guitar shopping and tapas in this London film, first published on 3 September 2016. I needed a hard case from Regent Sounds, then planned to stop at Fernandez & Wells nearby. The errand turned into a relaxed meal, followed by a less relaxed walk along Oxford Street carrying a large cardboard box.
Arriving on Denmark Street
I started beside Tottenham Court Road, with construction work surrounding the station. Across the road, Denmark Street offered a different view: music shops, guitar displays and familiar names above the doors. I had recently bought a guitar and was back to sort out a case and a stand.
In the film I talk about the street as London’s Tin Pan Alley and reflect on the changes around it. The building work was hard to miss. Still, the immediate attraction was simple: being able to walk into a shop, look at the instruments and buy what I needed.
Buying a guitar case at Regent Sounds
At Regent Sounds, I wanted a genuine Fender hard case for a Stratocaster. I pointed out a brown and tweed example on display, explaining that I was after a similar case in black. The camera takes in the instruments and accessories while I talk through the purchase.
Part of the appeal was supporting the shops on Denmark Street. I enjoyed looking at the vintage guitars in the windows and wanted the street to remain somewhere people actually shopped. I had also received good service here when buying smaller items before.
There was a practical bonus that day. I had checked prices online before coming and expected to pay more in central London. Instead, the case cost less than I had expected, leaving a little more for the meal next door. That was my experience of this purchase in 2016.
I left with the case, but postponed buying the stand. One large box was already enough to carry. It would accompany us through the rest of the afternoon and become the running joke at the end of the film.
A window seat at Fernandez & Wells
Next came Fernandez & Wells, where we found seats by the window. The room was moving from afternoon coffee towards dinner. From our table, we could still watch the street and its shopfronts while choosing food and drinks.
I was already fond of Fernandez & Wells. In the film I describe what appealed to me: relaxed rooms, good ingredients and straightforward European food, with Spanish and French influences. This visit was about small dishes and conversation rather than a formal dinner.
We started with cava. There is a little comic business around pouring it and getting a photograph before the food arrives. The pace slows down here, with the guitar-shopping errand giving way to an evening at the table.
Morcilla, artichokes and hummus
The first dishes included morcilla, a black pudding dish served on grilled sourdough with aioli. I also talked through the hummus and the warm grilled artichokes. The camera moves between the plates, showing the food as it reaches the table.
We ordered patatas bravas too, with spicy tomato sauce and aioli. I had hoped for padrón peppers, but they had run out that day. The kitchen added a little ham instead, a substitution I appreciated. These details belong to the meal we ate then, rather than a current menu.
Cheese, ham and sourdough
For the cheeseboard, I left the selection to the woman serving us. It arrived as a mixture of British and French cheeses. There was also thinly sliced jamón ibérico and sourdough with olive oil, extending the meal beyond the first round of dishes.
My verdict outside was uncomplicated: the food and drink had both been delicious. We stepped back onto Denmark Street with the guitar case, ready to make our way home.
St Giles and the walk to Oxford Circus
The final part of the film follows the streets around St Giles and Tottenham Court Road. I look back at the guitar shops and comment on the redevelopment around Centre Point. The footage records that moment in 2016, with hoardings and building work shaping the route.
Instead of taking the Tube immediately, we walked towards Oxford Circus. Carrying the boxed case through the crowds made the short journey feel like a workout. I joked about its weight, manoeuvred along the pavement and eventually reached the station with it still in its packaging.
That ending gives the afternoon its character: a useful purchase, a good meal and a reminder that a guitar case is easier to admire than to carry through central London. For another nearby archive visit, see my Oxford Street breakfast film from 2016.
