<p>London&rsquo;s medieval suburb in Southwark has preserved an unusual street plan redolent of its history. Ptolemy Dean hopes against hope for a miracle to save it from the predations of developers</p>

- Ptolemy Dean

BIFIL that in that seson on a day, in Southwerk at the Tabard as i lay, Redy to wendon on my pilgrimage to Caunterbury’: 633 years ago this April, Geoffrey Chaucer’s celebrated group of pilgrims set off from London to Canterbury to visit the shrine of St Thomas Becket.

The Tabard inn at which they gathered has itself long been demolished and its site recorded on a blue plaque. Nevertheless, the distinctive character of its neighbourhood, much rebuilt and remade, is preserved in a remarkable sequence of narrow alleyways that once accommodated the ancient inns of Southwark (of which the Tabard was just one).

Not for much longer, however. in this vibrant and increasingly prosperous part of central London, little admired by tourists, developers have enjoyed—and continue to enjoy—extraordinary freedoms. indeed, the miraculous powers of St Thomas have never been in greater need than now, to save what remains of Chaucer’s London from the bulldozer.

Borough High Street was the long street that extended south from the ‘country’ end of London Bridge. This was, for many years, the only bridge crossing into the City, so all visitors to London from the south had to come this way. Because the gates of the bridge were closed at night, inns sprang up to accommodate late arrivals. it was a rowdy, crowded and licentious place, offering entertainment that would never be permitted in the City itself.

A third of a mile from the head of the bridge, Borough High Street still forks into two, with one arm serving Canterbury and Do