Urban sunshine and cheap-as-chips cocktails. Del Boy would approve
If tailbacks leading to nearby Frank's are ridiculous, then Peckham Springs offers an alternative spot of urban sunshine. There's room for big groups to sprawl, with outdoor space to either sit or prop up your glass and lean in nonchalant fashion. With food options (fried chicken and corn on the cob), an art gallery and Bar Story across the way, there's sufficient to keep you occupied and it culminates in quite a buzz.
An eclectic crowd tends to gather, from trendy zygotes to doddery old locals like myself. Novelty jumpsuits may do the rounds, but not to the exclusion of those wearing glasses in a non-ironic way (although I'd avoid rocking up fully suited and booted).
Cocktails and bar staff can be inconsistent, ranging from bang on to overly sharp. It's worth trying the rhubarb bastard if your usual tipple is a negroni though, and it'll only knock you back six or seven quid.
Part of me thinks Peckham Springs is a great use of the railway arches; the other half thinks it's a bit daft to hang out in a glorified car park, with only shipping containers by means of decoration. Loos are open air, which is all very novel until you realise they're also unisex and there isn't a single cubicle with a lock. (Untangling yourself from skinny jeans with only one hand is tricky, and it's not just me; 98% of hipsters agree).