Here's one of my worst-kept secrets: I'm a city girl. I love the cultural variety and the endless choice of living in a London, a New York, a Paris or a Rome. Hardly a week goes by when I don't discover someplace new. (Ok, I'm exaggerating. But [image error]whatever.) Take last month, for instance, when a friend and I stumbled on an awesome hole-in-the-wall tapas place near Old Street. We were both big fans, and yet neither of us have been back - there's just so much else to do.

And therein lies the snag. While I've always considered big city variety to be a privilege, it can be a problem, too. What us urbanites tend to miss out on is the intimate texture of small-town life. The neighborliness. The coziness. I mean, if I lived somewhere smaller, I'd have probably revisited that tapas place about a dozen times. I'd [image error]be on chummy terms with the other regulars and BFFs with the bartender.

That's one reason I'm glad to have discovered Woodburner - a folk night in Dalston (East London) held every Monday night. Now, I'm not saying Woodburner isn't a tad pretentious - you only have to look at the "vintage eclectic" décor in the photo at left to see for yourselves... But what I like about it is the community atmosphere. Most people who go are regulars, meaning that the room is always scattered with familiar faces. The barman says hi. Acquaintances nod across the candlelit [image error]tables.

Oh, and I like the music, too. A lot. The first Monday I went, a father and son played together. The father is a famous cellist named Alexander Baillie; the son a talented young violinist named Max. That's them in the first picture, performing a jawdroppingly beautiful duet from Eastern Europe. A few Mondays later, the guest musician was Sam Lee, winner of the Arts Foundation Award for Folk Music 2011. I don't know much about folk, but I'm pretty sure Sam deserved that prize. The room fell into a trance listening to his beautiful baritone voice, and the array of haunting, exotic instruments (some of them home-made) that accompanied it.

Around midnight, closing time came. "See you next week!" echoed the refrain from people heading home. I smiled to hear it. I smiled to feel part of a small community, while the vastness of London twinkled under the moon.

Woodburner @ Dalston Boys Hall, 68 Boleyn Road, London N16. Mondays from 8pm. £3 entry.