Athelstane Aamodt shares a walk through chambers
I’m extremely lucky to work where I do. Gray’s Inn, despite the fact that it came off terribly in the blitz, remains a beautiful place. I love how I am in one of the busiest parts of London and yet frequently the loudest thing that I will hear in my room is the two-stroke engine of a lawnmower or the chiming of the Inn’s chapel bell for Matins.
Anyone who isn’t a lawyer will doubtless have all sorts of ideas about what barristers chambers are like. They invariably involve notions of Dickensian, port-sodden blimpery, leather wing-back chairs and dotty fustiness. As any barrister reading this will attest, most of today’s barristers’ chambers are absolutely nothing like this, although some charming and idiosyncratic traditions do remain.
Pigeonholed
The first thing I do when I go into chambers is check my pigeonhole. I wager that all barristers do this, on average, about one hundred times a day. The reason for this is simple. Paper in your pigeonhole usually means
