Fears and cheers for all-night city

Within hours they'll be back at their desks. However, for now, they just want to party. In the Slug And Lettuce on Fulham Broadway, the office workers are singing along to "take me home, country road", waving their beer bottles in the air. At 11.10pm, the lights go up and the punters spill onto the pavement. A group of men serenade one of the girls, while 100 others hang around, chatting noisily, reluctant to let the evening end.

We are in Hammersmith and Fulham, one of the four boroughs opposed to Time For Reform, the Licensing White Paper that controversially suggests that licensed pubs and bars should be allowed to serve alcohol 24 hours a day. The council - along with Camden, Islington and Westminster - has objected on the grounds that it could result in disruption for residents, increasing crime, noise and anti-social behaviour, putting "pubs before people".

However, the message from Fulham is clear: extend the licensing laws, at least by a few hours, and bring London into line with Europe. Most people claim that this would benefit shift workers, who want a quiet pint after work, and may reduce binge-drinking. While the majority don't think they would actually drink all night, or even after midnight - they want to have the choice. And it has been suggested that staggered leaving times will cut down on rowdiness and post-pub violence.

Many of the residents are seemingly unconcerned about living next door to a 24-hour venue. One just shrugs and says that "as long as people are having a good time, that's the main thing". Others point out that if you live near a pub, you should expect noise anyway. Claire Eades, 24, a credit controller and Fulham resident, suggests 2am as a cut-off point, joking that: "If they were open all night, people would never go to work."

However, Aimee Lister, 22, an advertising PA from Fulham, is one of the few people who hope the laws will remain unchanged.

She says: "There are a lot of families here - kids, dogs and all that stuff - and they might object to people vomiting on their doorstep."

The plans have been met with mixed reactions from people in the bar trade; certainly it doesn't seem as though everyone will rush to open up 24-7. James Gallagher, 21, a bar manager at Bootsy Brogan's pub, points out: "You don't really want to be at work all night long."

However, Gary Ludlow, 25, manager of the Prospect - open until 2am, along with the nearby bar, Havana - says: "This is an outdated law, it should be changed."

It's now 1.15am and the crowds are starting to thin out: it's quite late enough for most people. Outside the Prospect, a long arc of vomit is spewed onto the road by a shaven headed man in his twenties.

People are milling around but the atmosphere is unthreatening, and far quieter than it was two hours ago. Some people are so drunk they can barely speak, let alone become abusive. By 1.30am, they're heading home, tired and bedraggled, dispersing within minutes to wait for a bus or an unlicensed mini-cab.

If they really want another drink, they can head to one of the late-night bars in Soho or illegal clubs.

Darren Stevens, 24, a barman from central London, has been to a few and says: "You have to tap, a bouncer opens the door, you say something like 'I'm with Eddie' and pay a fiver. Then you walk in, and you're in someone's kitchen."

He says he can't be bothered to find one tonight, as he has to start work at 11am. By 2.30am, the night has lurched to a close, and only stragglers remain. Only a few will want to carry on partying. So, Hammersmith and Fulham: why not give them the chance to do so in safety?

Over in Islington at 11pm four girls are hovering around Tesco looking perplexed. They're dressed up for a night out but are starting to think that it's ended already. "We're bored now," says Toni Clarke, 23, an assistant buyer from Streatham.

Her friend Charlotte Crisp, 24, a graphic designer from the Angel, adds: "We need another drink and we're not even half way there. You finish work and by the time you're ready to go out, it's 9.30pm or 10pm, and then the pubs shut at 11pm - what's the point?"

Their views sum up the feelings of the night's drinkers in Islington. Yes, they could go to a club. They could nip off to an illegal drinking den. Or they could patronise one of the bars open until 2am. But they'd far rather remain in the old-fashion boozers, where there's no door policy, no queuing, no over-priced drinks and no attitude.

The current licensing laws "suck", according to Holly Coombes, 21, a dance teacher from Hong Kong. Sitting outside the Bierodrome on Upper Street, she says: "In Hong Kong, you can drink until seven in the morning, and there are no problems. In fact, the crime rate is really low. It's totally English to keep it like this."

Outside the Pitcher And Piano, girls in opened-toed sandals trip perilously over countless broken glasses as they wonder where to go next. Favoured options are the Elbow Room, on Chapel Market, for a beer and game of pool (until 2am); Fluid, a thriving bar in Clerkenwell (until 2am); or the super-club Fabric (where the bar shuts at 2am and you may have to wait more than 90 minutes in the queue). The final choice - going back home to raid the fridge - is looking increasingly attractive for a group of friends, finishing up their pints.

It is clear that, in an area like Islington, sensitivity would need to be exercised in granting extended licenses - and noise levels monitored. Mark Seward, 29, a graphic designer from Stamford Hill, used to live on Upper Street, which he describes as "a nightmare" after the pubs and bars closed.

"It was noisy all the time - so this can't be good for people who live on the main roads," he says.

At Fabric, inside the unisex loos, the clubbers also expressed concern for the locals. Maria O'Khan, 28, a millinery student from Notting Hill, worries about the impact on families: "It would wake my baby up. He's three years old and there would be too much noise," she says.

Her companion, Claire Howells, 28, from Notting Hill, adds: "I think the city needs a certain amount of order to be exercised, otherwise it's chaos. I think it would be horrendous, actually."

However, marketing assistant Shaun Roberts, 25, lives in one of the most vibrant parts of London, and says that the late-night drinkers are not the problem. He says: "In Soho, it's not the noise of the public that keeps me awake - it's the cars and police sirens."