Lime bikes, everywhere. Stacked outside south London institution Skehans as 20-somethings guzzle Guinness indoors; crammed into tight rows beside Dalston’s Prince George, the sun setting behind the bikes’ unmistakable citrus hue. In the last two years, the popular e-bike service has become a core part of the London landscape — and, in turn, its pub scene.

Just a couple of years ago, the phrase “Lime bike pub” would’ve been met with a blank look from most people. But say it in 2024 to anyone who regularly frequents the trendy pubs in London’s inner suburbs, and they will instantly know what you’re talking about. With Gen Z falling for the charm of so-called “old man pubs” en masse (think: garish carpets, dingy corners, and devastatingly worn-out scarlet banquettes) and social media fueling drinks-based trends (take the splitting the G), the traditional London boozer is now under the spotlight. While charming backstreet pubs could previously keep a fairly low profile while quietly serving their community, this shift has led to the destination-ification of the local. As this year’s nitro stout takeover demonstrates, people are increasingly happy to travel miles to visit hyped-up London pubs. There’s another key facilitator of this development: the Lime bike.

“Social media makes places more discoverable, especially in London,” says Hal Stevenson, Lime’s director of policy for the UK and Ireland. “People find these places online but getting to them can be difficult. Now, they’ve been made accessible by Lime because you can cycle there very easily rather than having to work out a public transport route. [Lime bikes] have become part of London’s critical transport infrastructure, but I think they’re also becoming part of our cultural fabric.”

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The Limes Roll In

The electric bicycle rental service, which was founded in San Francisco in 2017, first hit London in 2018. It took some time for their vehicles — which users can unlock and ride in seconds using a simple phone app — to become a visible part of the city’s landscape. But now, they’re inescapable. Last year, an estimated 1.26 million cycle journeys took place per day in London, and the company says that 97 percent of the population is never more than two minutes from a Lime bike. Stevenson insists that their widespread use is down to reliability and convenience. “People won’t use our service if they’re not confident that when they go out, there’s going to be a bike nearby that’s working, with full charge, and they can get on and get started,” he says.

With the wind in your hair and beer on the horizon, it’s a special kind of journey that blends purse-pinching convenience with a spontaneous desire to get to the bar and knock back a few pints.

This strong presence is heavily reflected in the city’s nightlife, evidenced by the dozens of Lime bikes you’ll spot piled together across the street from local watering holes. Not any old pub can become a so-called Lime bike pub, though. There are a few key criteria that must be met. Firstly, Lime bike pubs can’t be in central London, as there’s not enough outdoor space to accommodate the bikes themselves. Inside, they’ve got to feel authentic and traditional enough to attract keen drinkers. They also must be enough of a destination — like Stoke Newington’s The Auld Shillelagh, famed for its creamy Guinness and cozy corners — to prompt drinkers to scoot over on a rental bike on a random Tuesday night. And given how expensive London is in terms of hospitality and travel, these patrons also need a bit of disposable income. Bring these factors together, and you’ve got a Lime bike pub.

The Lime Liberation

Will Cotton is a London-based hospitality worker who regularly uses Lime bikes to get to the pub, both for work and socializing. He recently moved back to the UK capital having spent most of the last two years living in Canada and Somerset in southwest England. He immediately noticed the shift that had taken place in the city’s transport scene during that time.

“Lime bikes have absolutely exploded,” he tells me. “You used to see a few people riding them, but now they’re everywhere.” Currently, Lime sells 30-minute passes for £3.99 and 60-minute passes for £6.99, allowing riders to take multiple journeys for a set price in a specified time period. Cotton typically gets through two 60-minute passes per week, traveling to pubs for work and leisure. Why has the e-bike become his go-to transport method?

“Because they’re so cheap!” he says. “Six ten-minute journeys on a Lime bike will save you money — if you can ride them instead of using public transport, it’s not even a question.”

“It’s a double-edged sword, because Lime bikes are incredibly useful and convenient for the people who want to use them. But for people who don’t like them, they’re seen as a disease on our roads.”

This kind of money-saving incentive helps explain Lime’s stratospheric rise. But it doesn’t take into account another factor that has contributed to this unapologetically London phenomenon: the sense of adventure that is also integral to the experience of riding a Lime bike to a pub. With the wind in your hair and beer on the horizon, it’s a special kind of journey that blends purse-pinching convenience with a spontaneous desire to get to the bar and knock back a few pints. Much of the excitement of this experience is because Lime bikes have allowed Londoners to visit pubs that wouldn’t normally be within striking distance.

“Social media means more hidden-away spots are being overrun now,” says Cotton. “If you know you can get somewhere that’s half an hour off the beaten track but it’s cheaper, then you get a greater number of people occupying these sorts of places, which are often more local, independent boozers. It’s a double-edged sword, because Lime bikes are incredibly useful and convenient for the people who want to use them. But for people who don’t like them, they’re seen as a disease on our roads.”

The Lime Haters

Cotton is referring to some of the bad press Lime has received lately, like the public raising of safety concerns by Brent Council or the slightly melodramatic claim that e-bikes are “a scourge on the capital’s streets” due to poor parking. Some people have also raised concerns about drunk cycling, which Lime aims to prevent using late-night reaction time tests and in-app reminders. When questioned about these complaints, Stevenson insists the company works very closely with local authorities across the capital.

“Our London service is based on long-term partnerships with councils,” he says, adding that they’re seeking to identify and help develop parking locations across Brent and other boroughs. “We’ve operated really successfully in Brent for six years, we’ve got tens of thousands of local residents using the service. We need to work with them, based on the feedback they’ve provided, which is that they want to move from a more flexible parking system to a mandatory parking system.”

If this policy extends across London, the days of messy bike piles lining the pavements outside hip pubs may be over. But the surge to populate these spaces isn’t slowing. More broadly, Lime is learning to cope with this astronomical growth.

“So far this year, we’ve done 11.5 million trips during commuting hours only,” Stevenson says. “We need to make sure we’re managing that demand.” If Lime can cope with this growth and tighten its grip on London’s e-bike landscape, the presence of the Lime bike pub may become even more pronounced. So, if you spot a flash of citrus green whizz by the window the next time you’re propped up at a London bar, it might just mean the local is next in line.