This nursery feels deeply of its place. It’s right in the heart of Tooting, that wonderful, chaotic, deliciously diverse part of South London. The families here reflect that. You hear three languages in the drop-off line before 8:30 AM. The food they serve is genuinely diverse—not just pasta and fish fingers, but things like daal and sweet potato curry.
My son now asks for “spicy rice” at home. I have no idea what he means, but I’m thrilled his palate is broader than chicken nuggets. It’s a small, delicious victory in the war against beige food. (Disclaimer: they still serve chicken nuggets. Some battles are not worth fighting.)
The Verdict? It’s a Little Magic.
Look, I’m not saying this nursery is perfect. No place is. But I am saying it’s the kind of place where your child will learn to count, yes, but also learn how to share a compost bin with a friend who is very grumpy about the worm situation. It’s a place that takes the whole “early years” thing seriously, but doesn’t take itself too seriously.
You walk in, you see the sun streaming through those big windows onto a floor that’s sticky with art project residue, and you just feel it. That feeling that your tiny human is in a safe, weird, wonderful little bubble. And you? You get to walk away for a few hours, slightly less covered in glitter, ready to face the adult world again. Until pickup time, when you’re handed a lump of clay that looks like a cat but is actually, you’re told, “a portrait of you, Mummy.” Perfect.
