Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year

I probably should have mentioned in my previous post that I wouldn't be doing any updates over the festive period. The next update will be on the 5th January. Hope you had a great Christmas and enjoy the festivities this evening. I don't believe in all this "dry January" nonsense so I'll be enjoying a few beers throughout the month and you'll be pleased to know I'll be keeping you informed.

See you in 2014!

Lady Ottoline and The Shakespeares Head, London

As unbelievable as it sounds, my life doesn't only consist of complaining about pubs and being disappointed by the condition of beer. In my life away from the adrenaline rush of beer blogging, I am a IT manager at a law firm, which is about as exciting as it sounds. One downside of being a manager is that I feel obliged to take my team out for a Christmas dinner. This is a problem because although my team do work hard and they more than deserve a delicious dinner in lovely surroundings, I don't really like spending money. This is not good when living in London as nearly everything is twice as expensive as you'd expect it to be. Even the Evening Standard newspaper at the low price of free is too expensive, as they should be paying me to read that toss. So finding places to eat that serves really good food, has a lovely atmosphere but is also reasonable is a bit of a nightmare.

After much indecision searching through the SquareMeal website trying to find a restaurant where the prices didn't make me fall off my chair in shock and awe, and convincing myself that I probably wouldn't get away with treating the team to a KFC family bucket, I took my team to a gastropub in Farringdon called The Lady Ottoline. I'd been here previously with a vendor who treated me to a pretty decent lunch. I remembered the food being very good, but I wasn't paying and everything tastes better when it's free. Would I enjoy it as much when at the end of the meal I would have to pry apart my dusty wallet and hand over my Visa debit card while desperately resisting the urge to weep?

The short answer is yes. We had a lovely meal at the Ottoline. I'm going to avoid going into much detail about the food because I can barely talk about beer coherently let alone pretend I can string together sentences describing dinner. But all the dishes, in particular my pork belly main, were well prepared, looked great and tasted delicious. Best of all the bill didn't cause me to have a heart attack, just maybe a bit of mild angina.

"Gastro" wise the Ottoline is a success. But for the "pub" side, I think outside of the Christmas season this would be a nice place to pop in for just a drink, which is unusual for a gastro. Although food is the focus there is a area set for drinkers in the atmospheric ground floor room and it doesn't make you feel isolated. But during December, with all the Christmas parties piling in, this place is pretty much just a restaurant. It's a shame it's not really possible to stop in for just a drink at the moment as  they do have a nice selection of ales, and my Dark Star Winter Meltdown and Purity Mad Goose were both in good condition. I did find the Winter Meltdown to be a little bland, but it seemed to be kept OK. Maybe it's just the way the beer is.

One place that is definitely catering to drinkers this Christmas season is The Shakespeares Head in Holborn. I came in here for the first time in a long time on Friday. This massive Wetherspoons outlet was absolutely heaving. I was fearing the worse as past experience has proved that 'Spoons staff in their Central London pubs seem to have trouble coping with pressure (e.g more than three customers waiting at the bar.) However I have to give credit to the team here, they were absolutely spot on. Despite a busy bar they were keeping things going smoothly. They even managed to smile and be polite, I had to pinch myself that I was actually in a London 'Spoons on a busy Friday night.

The beer was also in very good form. Apache IPA from Portobello was a hoppy, boozy treat and it sold out deservedly quickly. A half of India Pale Ale by Devils Backbone, a US brewer, sadly wasn't as good with a watery, limp flavour. Greene King's Abbot Reserve was on, and as I'd never tried this I gave it a go. I found it quite good, and I enjoyed its warming, fruity richness. Santa's Darkside from Naylor's Brewery was a standard dark ale but pretty tasty, and JHB from Oakham Brewery was a solid brown bitter to finish with. It's a credit to the staff that I was able to enjoy these beers served quickly. Food wise this is light years away from the classy Ottoline but my Wethernachos were edible.

Sadly the general atmosphere was the usual 'Spoons, bland, joyless and overlit. The crowd seemed to be even louder and annoying than the usual Friday night 'Spoons punter, probably because the Christmas season is in full swing. It wasn't really a place I'd want to spend a long time in. But if you're nearby and looking for a place to kill time with a pint or two, you could do worse than pop in.

Then and now - Farringdon and Covent Garden pubs

It's always fun revisiting a pub I haven't been to in a while because most pubs go through plenty of changes in their lifetime and at some places the experience can change every few months. This past Friday I had the pleasure of revisiting some pubs in London on a mini pub crawl with some good friends of mine. As I hadn't been to these pubs in a while I thought it would be fun to revisit my original thoughts and see if much has changed.

Craft Beer Co Leather Lane

Then: A well known mecca for ale lovers with a absolutely ridiculous price for pork pies.

Now: Every time I walk past the Craft on a Friday evening it's just so ridiculously busy. This is not just a mecca for ale lovers, it now appears to be a mecca for every office worker in the Farringdon area. This small pub gets uncomfortably busy as the large bar and bench seating down the side take up a fair amount of space, leaving not much room for customers. There is an upstairs but tables up there can be reserved so it's pretty much impossible to get a seat. Walking in the crowd were three or four deep waiting at the bar. It felt very claustrophobic.

But with such a fine selection of ales on offer I'll put up with the small space and risk of having a panic attack. Ales from stalwarts Dark Star, Thornbridge and Marble were on offer, and plenty other breweries were represented on cask and keg. A Thornbridge Christmas Ale was a solid take on the rather hoary Christmas Ale formula, a tasty red ale with a subtle spicy undertone. Marble Lagonda was a excellent example of a pale ale. The Marble guys know how to create a good brew. The pork pies remain stupidly expensive.

Verdict: Still awesome but visit during the week and eat food beforehand.

Ye Olde Mitre

Then: A charming little pub although the pint I had tasted a bit like coal. 

Now: I have been to this pub a couple of times since that blog post and I can't really say it's charming any more. Mainly because how much of a sausage fest this place is. Sure you get the occasional confused lady who has been dragged along by their beer loving partner, or the nervous looking secretary who has been forced to visit with their sweaty "hands on" boss, but mainly this place is filled with blokes. The beer was in good condition, my pint of Dark Star Original being a comforting, if workmanlike brown bitter. However with the pub over run with braying men the atmosphere is a little bland. We didn't stay long before moving on.

Verdict: Lovely beer but atmosphere is a bit sweaty

Holborn Whippet

Then: Beers are served from a wall that bleeds ale and a sterile atmosphere where I couldn't get comfortable.

Now: I wasn't too impressed by the Whippet last time but a revisit made me warm to the place. I still find the wall in the middle that bleeds beer a bit odd. I opted for a half of Arbor Oyster Stout which was in excellent form. My friends went for a Lagunitas IPA which sadly wasn't in the best of form and seemed to be end of the barrel. Maybe that's why it was a fiver a pint which is actually pretty cheap for a pint of this trendy American IPA. Like the Craft Beer Co the Whippet seems to be incredibly busy every time I walk past it and this Friday night was no exception. The staff were friendly and on the ball, and the atmosphere was jovial. A pleasant place for a drink and I'd be happy to go back.

Verdict: Liked it a whole lot more this time.

The Cross Keys

Then: Likeable, slightly sleazy pub with plenty of tat hanging from the ceiling. Boisterous atmosphere.

Now: This Brodies pub continues to amuse me. It just seems so jarringly out of place in trendy Covent Garden. It feels like a locals pub from the 80's with the copper pans and other assorted antique tat hanging from the ceiling and the deep red lighting. It's shabby and doesn't even pretend to be modern or relevant. The beer was good and I enjoyed a pint of Brodie's malty, comforting Mild. This place continues to attract a "boisterous" (e.g. pissed) crowd, and we eventually left after a group of gents clad in lederhosen got a bit too loud for their own good.

Verdict: Great beer, nice room, dodgy customers

The Harp

Then: "An ale oasis in a area filled with expensive, soulless bars packed to the rafters with confused tourists and twats"

The Harp remains a text book example of how to run an excellent boozer in Central London. Its location next to the very busy Charing Cross station means this pub is always packed but the superb staff make sure you get served as quickly as possible. I've got served here quicker when it's rammed than at other sleepy pubs where the staff are so dozy you end up waiting 10 minutes for a drink when there's only two patrons at the bar, and one of them is the pub dog.

This visit to The Harp didn't disappoint and I was supping a Dark Star American Pale Ale within seconds of arriving. The beer was a top notch hoppy treat. The Harp was a fine place to end this very pleasurable pub crawl.

Caterham Beer Festival

I'm not sure why I decided I should update my blog every Sunday. My life really isn't exciting enough to sustain a riveting, informative and witty blog post every week. I was at the point where I wouldn't have any content for today's update as absolutely nothing of note was happening in my life which was pub or beer related. I was starting to worry that I may have to do a post on what my definition of craft beer is, or complain about how evil pubcos are ruining the industry. Just as all hope seemed lost The Lovely Jemma's dad got in touch. He had won two wristbands to the Caterham Beer Festival but he couldn't go due to a previous engagement. Well I had no choice but to make use of the wristbands and I spent last Saturday afternoon sampling some tasty ales.

This was my first visit to Caterham and as I exited the train station I was disappointed by just how nondescript the town centre is. Most market towns seem to be working from the same identikit template these days, packed with the same stores and brands. However I did appreciate that Waitrose and Morrison's were across the street from each other so you could quickly tell a residents social standing in Caterham depending on which one they ventured in too.

The festival was taking place in Soper Hall, which was a very pleasant venue for a beer festival. There were two rooms serving around 40 ales plus a few ciders, and all the ones I tried were in good condition. Highlights included Black Cherry Mild from Kissingate Brewery, a delicious fruity and chocolate stout which hit the the perfect middle ground of sweetness and malt. Jarl from Fyne Ales was also on offer, and I enjoyed a half of this accomplished, crisp and hoppy ale which I think is deserving of the many awards it has won.

I remembered to take pictures! Here's Soper Hall

Things took a turn for the bizarre when me and The Lovely Jemma decided to venture out for some lunch. Although the beer festival had some interesting looking food options including a wood fire pizza van and another stall selling tapas, it was all outside and I didn't fancy standing out in the cold shoving food down my gullet. I consulted the mobile version of the Good Beer Guide and found a pub nearby that sold food. Using Google Maps we set forth. Google Maps is a great tool but I really wish it would warn you of any steep gradients when giving directions. We ended up walking up an incredibly steep hill and by the time we reached the top I was wheezing and sweating like a demented puffin.

Still at least there was food on the horizon and we walked into the pub, The King and Queen. Walking in I noticed a distinct lack of menus. No matter, we found a comfy table by the log fire and I went up to ask the barmaid for a food menu. "We don't do food any more" was the apologetic response. Apparently the landlord had recently changed and the new landlord doesn't have a license to serve food. By this point we were both ravenous so we rather shamefully left the pub having purchased nothing and went on a quest for food.

This is where things went a bit weird. We found a pub down the road called the Royal Oak, and a menu outside the pub proclaimed there was food, although oddly they claimed food was served in the Royal Oak "Cafe." We walked into the pub and this was a real locals pub/mortuary. As we walked in the customer chatter went a bit quieter and we got strange looks as we were under the age of 50. I ignored it and headed to the back of the pub where a cafe sign was displayed. As we headed into the back room we must have went through some kind of time travel portal as we appeared to be in a Northern greasy spoon caff from the 70's. Except it was in the back room of a pub. "It's like we're in Blackpool!" exclaimed TLJ as we took a seat. All the caff clichés were there - we got offered tea or coffee, served in big sturdy mugs, asked if we wanted a newspaper, the menu was made up of mostly pork products and chips, and we got offered bread and butter with our meals. It was as greasy spoon as you can get. But we were in a pub. Utterly bizarre but the server was very friendly and the food was pretty good. I really wish I took pictures of the place but I was worried if I got my camera out I may end up getting burned alive by the regulars due to using the devils tools. I didn't sample an ale, this didn't really seem the type of place to cater to real ale drinkers, but I did see a lonely Harveys handpump on the bar. In fact the landlord seems rather proud of their lager selection according to their Google page:

Landlord, Alan Lander, says that the pub prides itself on the quality of its beers and lagers.He said: "We are owned by Enterprise Inns which means we can serve a bigger range of beers and lagers. For example you would not normally expect to see both Carling and Fosters available under the same roof."

Lots of happy drinkers inside the hall.

Back at the beer festival, I was pleased to see that breweries from the South East area were well represented. I sampled Nektar from Cronx Brewery, a new startup based in Croydon who are starting to make a name for themselves. The ale was incredibly bitter, maybe too much, and I could start to feel my mouth turning in on itself. There were some sweet notes but this was a bit to much of a bitter thud for me. Still there was promise there and I look forward to trying more of their beers. The Westerham Brewery Double Stout was a more skilful, robust beer, but as they've been going for a lot longer than the Cronx boys maybe that isn't surprising. A rich, tasty stout, this was the perfect beer to have before heading home in the cold winter air.

Overall this was a well organised, friendly and very enjoyable beer festival. The only downside was that there was no seating area, but space was at a premium so I can understand that they wanted to pack in as many punters as possible. I look forward to going back next year. I may even pay for admission!

Cittie of Yorke, London

The Cittie of Yorke is a grand old Sam Smiths pub in Holborn on the outskirts of the City of London, the financial heart of the capital. It's also Google Chrome's spellcheck worst nightmare: it knows the words in the pubs name are spelt incorrectly and by gum it wants to correct them! The pubs location means two things, firstly it's full of braying chaps in suits and secondly Sam Smiths have cottoned on that Londoners and confused tourists will pay anything for a beer and have jacked up the prices accordingly. Living in London has brainwashed me so much it's come to the point where I say "£3.40 for a pint of Old Brewery Bitter, that's not bad" rather than going "You're having a laugh mate!" and immediately leaving the pub for the nearest Tesco's and stocking up on the cheapest booze I can find.

The main hall of the Cittie of Yorke is a dramatic place for a drink, featuring a high vaulted ceiling, barrels above drinkers lining the sides of the walls and cosy little booths down one side of the hall. There's a plainer room at the front of the pub and a cosy cellar as well. Despite the place looking really old and impressing every American who visits, the main hall was apparently rebuilt in 1924, although a pub has supposedly stood on the spot since the fifteenth Century. But it seems just about every building in London claims to have had a similar business on its spot since the fifteenth Century, except perhaps PC World and Ryman the Stationer, so I don't know how much truth there is to the claim.

Being a Sam Smith's pub the Cittie of Yorke only serves the Sam Smiths range, even down to the soft drinks and crisps. I like to think that Sam Smiths is the original "craft" brewery, doing their own takes on many different beer styles and the niggling feeling that they think all the big brewer's stuff is crap and theirs is much better. Basically they're BrewDog but Sam Smiths have been doing it since 1758. Beer wise I started off with a pint of the Sovereign Bitter. This was on keg and I was worried that by drinking this my CAMRA card would spontaneously burst into flames in my wallet and ruin my trousers. The beer tasted fine, but being keg it did have a little artificial, chemical flavour. Overall though it was drinkable. The Old Brewery Bitter was on cask and was in good nick, and although this reliable bitter is never going to set taste buds alight it was comforting on this chilly winters eve.

I've been through Sam Smiths draught range many times, especially in my student days back when the London outlets were cheap and the prices perfectly suited my budget. As I am now grown up and employed I thought I would treat myself to some of their bottled beers. I ordered a Winter Welcome Ale and a bag of pork scratchings. The cold but efficient barmaid asked for an amount around the £7.50 mark. "How much was the beer?!" I asked in befuddlement. "£6." I came over a little faint but somehow managed to remain standing upright. But soon the enormity sank in. SIX POUNDS FOR A BEER IN A SAM SMITHS PUB. Why didn't I ask for the price before ordering?! The beer had better be bloody good and luckily it wasn't to bad. Slightly sweet with caramel notes this went down well. But not six pounds well.

Somehow I didn't learn my lesson and I went for another bottled beer, this time the Nut Brown Ale. There's not more to stay except this was exactly as what was described on the label and it reminded me of this Brass Eye skit:

I finally finished with a Pale Ale which was pretty good, light and hoppy and a pleasure to drink. Both these bottles were £5.50 so all in all I spent £17 on three beers in a Sam Smiths pub. And this is why the world is now a horrible place to be in. I don't often get political but Mr Cameron if you're reading this, forget about minimum alcohol pricing and all that malarkey. Instead please embark on a campaign to make Sam Smiths in London cheap again. Thanks. And also stop reading this blog you've got more important things to do.

The Spreadeagle, Croydon and a return to the General Wolfe

Croydon must have seemed amazing to visitors back in the 60's. I can imagine visitors being enthralled as they drove their Ford Cortina down a sweeping dual carriageway buffered by soaring multi storey buildings. There's even an underpass in case tall buildings scare you. It would have been a shining beacon to the adversity of Britain, that a shimmering new town can rise from the rubble of bombed out ruins. I'm probably romanticising it a bit but I like to think Croydon was exciting once. Sadly nowadays it's pretty grim, the buildings ageing and imposing, the roads unable to cope with the 21st century levels of traffic, and the people ready to stab you at a moments notice. However Croydon does have a Waitrose and an artisan bakery has recently sprung up, so maybe things are looking up.

Nestled in the rather grubby town centre, across the road from the cultural delights of Tiger Tiger and the 80's Reflex bar, is The Spread Eagle. A large Fullers Ale & Pie house it is a welcoming, cosy oasis in the wilds of Croydon. It boasts an impressive interior, with two large chandeliers above the bar and a sweeping staircase to one side. The place was busy but me and The Lovely Jemma managed to grab a seat on some sofa's in the corner. The long bar serves the standard Fullers ale range, and although a guest beer from the local Cronx brewery was advertised on a blackboard behind the bar, it appears it was off as there was no mention of it on the handpulls.

I never find the Fullers range very exciting. I usually resort to getting a Chiswick or a ESB depending on how pissed I'm willing to get, but with neither on offer I started with a HSB from Gale's. This ended up being a good choice of pint for a chilly Autumn's day. Dark in colour with a rich, fruity taste, it was in perfect condition and went down a treat. I then opted for a half of the Fuller's seasonal Black Cab Stout. This was a perfectly pleasant stout with the coffee and toffee flavours present and correct, but it seemed to play it safe taste wise. Nothing too strong or threatening, it was almost like a stout for beginners. If you're ever unfortunate to be in Croydon and want a drink I can definitely recommend this place. Good beer, good atmosphere and also less chance of bumping into the unsavoury characters you get in the The George down the road.

The General Wolfe in Westerham is a pub I have blogged about previously. Since that last post, the place has been taken over by a new landlord, has had a refurb and has lost its place in the Good Beer Guide. I made a return visit last weekend to see how the place was post-refurbishment. Walking in it was initially hard to tell the difference the refurb had made. The layout is pretty much the same and the general decor hasn't changed much. But the furniture has been replaced and is looking much fresher, and the bar appears to have been extended, with the number of handpumps increased from three to five.

The beer selection was never very exotic pre-refurb but the ale was always in good condition. Now with an expanded range I'm pleased to say the beer is still in good nick. I tried the house beer, General Wolfe from Greene King. I suspect this is a re-badged beer, I initially thought maybe Old Speckled Hen, although it was only 3.9%. It was pretty good, a full bodied bitter with a fruity hoppy finish. I also tried a half of the guest beer, Brewers Gold from Whistable Brewery, which wasn't as good but was still pleasant with gentle light bitter notes. A food menu was available but I didn't see anybody eating, even on a busy Saturday afternoon. It looks like the regulars come here for a pint rather than a bite to eat.

With the decent beer and polite, prompt service this pub was looking like a winner. But unfortunately the atmosphere was a bit like having a pint in a retirement home. Me and The Lovely Jemma were the youngest people there by a long, long way. It was all very cosy but I started feeling a bit uncomfortable and we had to leave after a couple of halves as we just felt out of place there. It was the first pub I'd been to in a long time where the clientèle was exclusively oldies. Maybe at other times the pub has more mix in the customer age group.

That's it for now. See you next Sunday!

Chester

Last weekend I was in Chester to attend the wedding of two close friends. It was a wonderful ceremony held at the historic Chester Town Hall. Two things are inevitable at any wedding I attend.. First I will blub my way through the vows, especially when either the bride or groom (or both) start weeping. Secondly at the reception I will dance like Mick Jagger having a seizure while trying to dance on a ice rink wearing bowling shoes. Chester Town Hall was a lovely venue to hold the wedding and the whole day was awesome, the only downside being that only Boddingtons or Stella 4% were available at the town hall bar. Neither appealed so in the end I stuck with wine, before obviously moving on to the gin. If there's a finer spirit than gin I've yet to find it.

For some foolish reason I decided to travel from London Euston to Chester using London Midland. Actually there was a pretty good reason - it would of cost about £100 return to use Virgin Trains rather than the £30 return to use London Midland. At that price I knew the journey would be grim but in typical British train operator style they managed to make it even grimmer then it should have been. On the way up our train to Crewe instead decided to give up at Northampton, which is understandable as Northampton does have have that effect, but it was annoying having to change trains. In total it took about fours hours to get to Chester, which felt like an eternity on the cramped London Midland trains. Coming back was pretty straightforward but again being wedged into a seat with precious little legroom for 3 1/2 hours wasn't much fun. Next time I'll just pay the beardy bastard his ransom.

This was my first visit to Chester and I took the opportunity to visit some pubs up there. The night before the ceremony a few of us met up for a drink at the Brewery Tap. The building used to be a Jacobean meeting hall and it has been preserved (or restored) very well indeed. The bar had an enticing number of hand pumps on display. Eagerly I went up to the bar to order and was met with the cold, hard stare of a server who didn't seem to want to be there at all. I politely ordered a beer and attempted a bit of light hearted humour and was met with a look so fierce I thought I might burst into flames on the spot. The pub is the tap for the Spitting Feathers brewery and I went ahead and ordered a pint of their own Thirst Quencher. This was a easy drinking ale with a flavoursome hoppy finish that tickled the back of the tongue. Business as Usual from Derby Brewing Company was up next, and this aptly named bitter was a solid, workmanlike beer that got the job done. The final beer, and sadly the most disappointing, was Celtica from Great Orme, with limp insipid flavours that failed to excite.

The place was packed on a Friday night although one table was filled with customers who appeared to be about 15 years old. It was like being in a scene from Hot Fuzz and I half expected Simon Pegg to burst in and arrest the lot of them. Despite the cold service a very pleasurable evening was had here, although I don't know if I would be rushing back.

On the day of the ceremony itself there was a gap between lunch and the reception, and a group of us managed to sneak off to a cosy little pub near the town hall called Pied Bull. We blundered in to this small three room pub, a bit merry from the festivities and managed to grab a table in what appeared to be the "dining area" judging from the fact that every table had place mats and cutlery, and perhaps the most obvious sign, everybody sitting there was eating standard pub grub. Unlike some pubs the staff didn't seem to mind that we were only having a drink in the dining area. The wedding lunch had left us well lubricated and our conversation was getting a little bit loud. I got the feeling we were pissing off some of the other customers who had clearly come in for a quiet drink and to avoid oiks like us. The main clue was that most of them left the vicinity about 10-15 minutes after we'd sat at the table. I'm not proud of our behaviour, although I've seen much worse, but the friendly staff seemed fairly laid back about the whole thing.

As for the ale, as luck would have it they had a mini beer festival on. They must have known I would be in town. Things got off to a good start with a Marble Bitter. I always enjoy Marble beers and you don't see them too often in the South, so I always take the opportunity to have a half. Marble rarely do things wrong and this was an accomplished English bitter which went down very well. The Pied Bull is also a microbrewery creating a wide range of beers, all of them named with a terrible pun revolving around bulls. I opted for a half of Quaffa-bull (hnnngh) and it certainly lived up to its cheesy name. This was a easy drinking golden ale with a pleasant hoppy taste. Last was the Magic Rock Carnival, a delicious session pale ale which was on excellent form.

The following day after the wedding I thought I would treat The Lovely Jemma to lunch to what was described in the Good Beer Guide as a "upmarket" pub. Now a "upmarket pub" in the guide can mean anything from a place that actually uses real fish in its scampi to a place where the customers houses are worth more than a small African country and it's going to cost you six quid a pint and a large glass of wine requires a credit check. The pub was the Old Harkers Arms, a large place with a lovely position alongside the canal on the outskirts of Chester town centre. It certainly was upmarket but in a good way, with the pub furnished with lovely oak tables and chairs, the walls lined with little antique trinkets, and the place just had an overall feel that it attracted people with a little bit of money. I knew this place was truly upmarket when an older gentleman came in to read the Sunday Times, although he let the side down a little bit by ordering Weston's cider.

There was a good selection of ale on offer with blackboards displaying what's on. The Snowdonia from Purple Moose and Cheshire Cat by Weetwood were both on excellent form and immaculately kept. The Snowdonia was an excellent, easy drinking bitter and the Cheshire was a creamy, light beer with a stand-out dry finish. The food was excellent, although the portions were a bit too big. TLJ went for a roast beef lunch where the chef appeared to put any vegetable he could find in the kitchen on to the plate, while my haddock had clearly led a good life as it was huge, and there was a very generous portion of chips and mushy peas to go with it. I don't often get defeated by pub food, being used to miserly London portions, but this meal got me.

All the pubs I visited in Chester were of a good high standard, and as we walked around the historic town centre there were plenty of other places which looked good which we may have to visit if we ever visit Chester again. A great weekend and the only disappointment was that I didn't see any cast members from Hollyoaks out and about. Maybe next time!

Port Street Beer House, Manchester

Ah the Northern Quarter of Manchester. An area that seems to have been "up and coming" since Manchester existed. It's a weird jumble of trendy cafes and bars mixed with derelict buildings and depressing car parks, where some chancer has stuck a sign into his patch of gravel saying "Parking £5" and hoping some chump will go for it. It makes me think of what Camden Town must have been like before all the London wankers moved in and completely destroyed any character the area once had.

Opposite one of the chancer car parks is a little bar called the Port Street Beer House. I'd heard good things about this place, and as it was derby day in town I thought this would be a good place to avoid the football crowds. We got there at opening, feeling a little worse for wear following the stag night celebrations the night before. Still a little hangover wasn't going to stop us from enjoying some tasty ales. To be honest if I didn't know about this place I would of walked past it without a second thought. I didn't think it looked much like a pub from the outside, with the plasticky tables and chairs and bright lighting making the place look more like a cafe. We were even a little confused about which door to use to actually get into the place - although this might have been because of our hungover state.

As we walked in the first thing to hit us was a tremendous smell of bleach. Granted we were there at opening on a Sunday but they could have deep cleaned the place a little earlier. There's nothing welcoming about getting a face full of chlorine when walking into a bar. The smell was so bad that my eyes were nearly watering, and we had to retreat from the ground floor bar to upstairs, which features an odd mixture of cosy pub booths and more of the cafe style tables and chairs.

As promised in reviews of this place, the beer selection was good and in excellent condition. The staff knew their stuff, and they had a long chat with one of my friends about beer, although the atmosphere did sour a little bit when he mentioned that he works at BrewDog. Apparently this is not always a popular thing to say at craft beer bars! There was a great selection of bottled beers available but I stuck to the cask ale. First up was You Love Us from Hopcraft Brewing. Despite the arrogance of the name this was actually pretty good, bursting with hoppy goodness. Jacobs Ladder from Buxton Brewery was another winner, a low strength session ale bursting with flavour. There's nothing better than a beer with plenty of taste and not getting pissed after two pints, like every American IPA ever. Last up was Three Swords from the Kirkstall Brewery, which was a very solid bitter but was certainly the most "traditional" of the beers I tried, which made it a little boring.

Overall our group had a good time at the Beer House, despite all nursing hangovers. However I wonder how much business this place gets from the casual customer. It's not particularly welcoming from the outside, especially as it doesn't even really look a pub. Even if I had gone in as a casual customer I probably would have immediately walked out after being hit with a face full of bleach. Of course the bleach smell may be an unfortunate one off but you've got to have consistent quality in the pub business. The craft ale pub scene is exciting but ultimately these places are pubs, and you've got to be on the ball every time to attract customers. I doubt the craft ale scene is immune to market forces, no matter how unstoppable it seems at the moment.

Next week is a look around some very good pubs in the "quaint" city of Chester. Hope you can join me then. Cheers!

Bath, Part 2

Bath seems like a bit of an odd tourist destination to me. It's all very lovely with plenty of shops, glorious architecture and pretty parks, but I don't think there's actually very much to do tourist wise. The main draw is the Roman baths, but last time I visited them I wasn't to impressed by some smelly stone rooms. I was a grumpy teenager at the time though so I wasn't impressed by anything except violent movies, computer games and boobs. I thought of visiting the baths on this trip now I'm older and supposedly maturer but I have since been spoiled by visiting Rome and its ruins, which are amazing even if Mussolini did find it necessary to build a motorway right through the middle of them. I guess they didn't have NIMBY's in Italy back then and to be honest I don't know if they have them now, they seem a fairly laid back bunch. I've also visited Pompeii which was absolutely stunning, so I guess some shabby rooms in the middle of a British shopping town just didn't appeal to me. Despite my perceived lack of tourist sights Bath remains packed full of tourists anyway, swarming the rather small section of the town centre where all the sights are packed together. It's great to see the town doing well but I wonder if any of those tourists leave disappointed.

One thing Bath does have is plenty of pubs. After a good start, detailed in my previous post, even more excellent pubs were to come. But first I'll start with the most average pub I visited, the West Gate. This Greene King pub seemed more focussed on food than beer but it did have an OK selection of ale available. Well I think it did this was a dimly lit place, probably to appeal to hungover students and their fear of bright lights. Our group originally sat at a table where the floor was both humming and vibrating, and fearing an imminent power surge, explosion or giant mole we moved to a different table. My first choice of beer, which I can't remember the name of but it sounded interesting, was off, so I opted for a pint of Guzzler from the York Brewery. This wasn't great, with a rather insipid watery flavour. Overall despite a decent Sunday lunch and friendly service I wouldn't be rushing back to this pub.

An "atmospheric" shot of the Star Inn
serving area.

Next up was a pub I'd quite happily rush back to. The Star Inn is on the outskirts of the town centre but is well worth a visit. Owned by Abbey Ales, this traditional three room pub looks attractive from the outside and very cosy and welcoming inside. They serve Bass from the barrel and I opted for a half, and it was pleasant enough. A Bellringer from Abbey Ales was much better, a strong, solid bitter that was perfect for this comfy little pub. The lone barmaid was friendly, even when I managed to spill about a third of my Bass all over the table. Whoops. The only disappointment was that the promised "free nibbles" on a Sunday afternoon mentioned on their website were nowhere to be found. However overall this was a great pub to retreat to in the middle of the day. Very enjoyable and a rather charming place.

My final pub visit on my jaunt around Bath was The Bell. This was a completely different atmosphere compared to the calm, relaxed Star. A live folk band were playing to the heaving pub. I could tell they were a genuine folk band because the lead singer was the hairiest man I'd ever seen. We managed to snag a table and enjoyed the good music and congenial atmosphere. A Mutley's Revenge from Hereford Brewery went down well and I got the chance to do my Mutley from Wacky Races impersonation where I sound like I'm choking on a boiled sweet. This was a lovely little boozer and with the music, laid back crowd and friendly staff it ended up being my favourite pub of the trip.

Well that's it for Bath. Next up it's a return to Manchester and the Port Street Beer House. See you next Sunday!

BrewDog Manchester

The Jortening. Identity blurred
to protect the innocent.

I made a welcome return to Manchester recently. I've previously covered some of the cities fine pubs in a previous post, and this visit added two new establishments. My reason for being in the strange world of the north was a good old fashioned stag night. We eschewed the traditional events of handcuffing the groom to a lamppost or spraying the back of a minicab in vomit and instead plied the groom full of booze, cutting off a piece of his jeans every time he had a drink so by the end of the evening he ended up with a fine pair of denim shorts, or "jorts" to use the modern parlance. This went down a storm with Manchester's finest lasses, and even with a bit of boxers peeking out of the jorts it didn't scare them off from catcalling and leering. They're made of stouter stuff up there.

The majority of the stag night was spent in two of the "finest" clubs Manchester has to offer, the gloriously kitsch Fab Cafe and the terrifying rock club Satan's Hollow. However we did manage to visit a couple of pubs and both of them were (spoilers) excellent. First up was BrewDog Manchester. BrewDog continue to spread across the country like a virus made out of hops and cocky attitude. This is the third outlet I have visited, the previous being Camden and Shoreditch. The Manchester branch was a great experience. Compared to Camden and Shoreditch this place was huge, spread over two levels. I was surprised at how quiet the place was considering how rammed the London outlets always seem to be. Granted it was about 3pm on a Saturday afternoon but I expected more folks there. I must admit I got a little overexcited when I saw two pinball machines, both of which were working well but considering how poorly I did on them I can only presume they were set on "insane" difficulty.

To celebrate the groom signing his life away a tasting session of six beers was presented to us and it didn't disappoint. First up was the Nut Brown Ale by the Ale Smith brewing company, from the good ol' USA. American beers were going to feature strongly in this tasting session, and with good reason, as they are producing some excellent beers over there at the moment. This first ale was proof that Americans can capably produce beer other than intensely hopped pale ales. The first thing to hit was the fabulous aroma, a rich bitter smell with the faintest hint of nuts, inviting you to take a sip. The taste was also excellent, the nut flavours subtly pronounced in the comforting bitter taste. A great start. Next up was Black Racer from Bear Republic. This was a solid Black IPA. I don't really know what a Black IPA is, it appears to mean it's going to have a burnt, malty flavour and this beer hit the right notes. Good stuff.

Imperial IPA from Green Flash was excellent and the highlight of the tasting session. I was a bit worried that at 9.4% this was going to be an unsubtle assault of hops and booze, with the harsh finish that these types of beer can suffer from. Amazingly it was the complete opposite. Despite the high strength the beer went down as smooth as chocolate mousse covered in Vaseline and was a hoppy delight. A really fine example of what skilled brewing can produce. Anniversary Ale from the Port Brewing Company was up next and managed to make all the mistakes the Imperial IPA skillfully avoided. A classic example of chuck in the hops and booze and let's see what happens, it was harsh, tasted strongly of alcohol with no subtlety to back it up, and was just not very pleasurable to drink. It might have been passable if it hadn't come after the Imperial IPA but unfortunately it just highlighted what a disappointment this beer was.

Next up was the lowlight of the session, but others may enjoy it. It's Lambic time! My tongue tried to escape from my mouth at the very thought of having to sip this sour, fruity disaster. My idiot brain started to try and comfort me - maybe it'll be good this time! Perhaps the fruity sourness won't want to make you end it all right there and then! One sip and I immediately wanted to fire my brain. Made by Brasserie Cantillon it was pure lambic through and through. I hated it. Luckily it didn't destroy my taste buds for the final beer of the session, the Stone Brewery Espresso Imperial Russian Stout. This eliminated all memories of the horrific lambic and ended the session on a high. This full bodied classic stout was spot on. As a regular stout this would be a terrific treat, but with the coffee added it was absolutely brilliant.

As you've read this far into the post I may as well tell you why I thought BrewDog Manchester was both better and worse than their Camden outlet, which is the branch I've frequented most. The extra space was definitely a plus over the tiny Camden branch, which gets packed full of punters early and it's practically impossible to get a seat after 6pm. As the Manchester one is twice the size it never felt very busy there, even as the evening drew on. The downside to this extra space is that the atmosphere didn't seem as good, the closeness of the Camden space encouraging punters to mix up a little and get the conversation going. Everyone just stuck to their own groups in the Manchester branch, which is unusual in a Northern bar as every man and their dog usually tries to strike up a conversation with you as all the Southerners desperately try to avoid eye contact and drink their beer as quickly as possible.

Well this post went on longer than I expected. Best save my biting commentary on the Port Street Beer House for next week. I've also gone and got myself a "Twitter," why not follow me @bitterbloke. Cheers!

Bath Part 1

First of all apologies for the long wait in posting this hopefully witty and entertaining chapter of my blog. It's been a busy past few weeks for me, with a trip to Paris with the Lovely Jemma and a stag do in Manchester. I managed to visit a couple of new places in Manchester since my last visit there and I'll be blogging about those soon. Sadly there's not much to report about Paris beer wise. The French love their wine so I knew finding decent places for beer would be a problem. However Time Out mentioned a couple of craft ale bars that have sprung up. I was prepared to visit both and blog about them to you lovely people.

Sadly the first bar was closed on the night we went to visit, and then the next day my delicate British stomach was completed baffled by the amount of butter, cream and red meat I was consuming and I spent most of the day on the loo. This made a visit to the pub both unappealing and unlikely. Don't worry, while I was on the toilet I was weeping, firstly because I just wanted it all to end but also because I'd let my reader(s?) down by not being able to write about some weird French brews. The only beer I did manage to drink in Paris was a Leffe Blonde at Marlusse Et Lapin, a quirky little bar with an area called granny's room, complete with old lady bed and old fashioned drawers and cupboards. Luckily there were no activities granny would have disapproved of from the couple sitting on the bed, just polite conversation and slurping of wine. Well I assume it was polite conversation, they could have been talking about doing disgraceful things to each other involving whips and cattle prods, but because everything in the French language sounds beautiful I never would have known. Both the beer and the bar were pretty good.

But that's enough about Paris. A few weeks ago I paid a visit to the town of Bath. The weather was a bit hit and miss but luckily there were plenty of pubs to duck in to when the weather got a bit dreary. Things got off to a good start with a visit to Pig and Fiddle. This is a shabby but welcoming place with a large, narrow main room, a large beer garden and a hidden snug round the back of the bar. The airy main room is packed with tacky memorabilia which adds to the laid back vibe of the place. A solid ale selection was on offer, and I went for a pint of Adam Henson's Rare Breed by the Buxton Brewery. I have no idea who Adam Henson is but his rare breed is pretty good, with a pleasurable hoppy finish.

Leaving the Pig and Fiddle we moved to somewhere with a more mature vibe, The Salamander. Owned by Bath Ales, it has a modern interior and a grown up feel, but the atmosphere was a little stilted and not as welcoming as the Fiddle. It felt like I was invading a very middle class book club. There were probably more glasses of wine than beer on the tables, and the customers were enjoying tasty looking but expensive food. The Bath Ales were pretty good, with a Special Pale Ale (SPA) going down very well with a light, almost lemongrass flavour, very pleasurable. The Summer Hare was not quite as good but a solid hoppy finish made it a decent sup.

The final pub, for this post at least, is The Raven. This is a friendly two floor boozer with a laid back vibe. It appeared to be heavily involved in the local community with plenty of posters advertising future events, mainly aimed towards students. There are two house brews on offer, brewed by Blindman's, and I opted for a pint of Raven's Gold. Sadly this didn't live up to my expectations and it was a rather limp, bland golden ale. The plate of sausage and mash I ordered for lunch was tremendous though, making the trip to the pub more than worthwhile. Be aware that there's a £10 card minimum here, and that the house red is terrible. I only mention this so you don't get caught out like my friend and end up ordering a large glass of the house red to make up the minimum. The wine was horrific, tasting like it had been passed through a diseased duck on a hot July's day.

Plenty to come in Part 2, including two of the best pubs on the trip. See you next Sunday. That's right, I'm going to update this blog every Sunday! Let's see how long that lasts.

Preston Part 2

Preston is never going to win a "prettiest town centre" award, or even a "town centre which is slightly pleasing to the eye" award. It's looking a bit shabby and run down, with a depressing amount of closed down stores, including the aptly named "Bankrupt Books." The town centre has a brown and grubby feel to it, even on the sunny day I was there. But take a short stroll away from the high street and you will stumble across the fabulous Avenham Park. I don't often gush but this park is absolutely gorgeous, with the River Ribble flowing majestically through the middle accompanied by pretty tree lined banks. Well kept and beautifully presented gardens await as you stroll along the river. My awkward pictures below don't really bring across the beauty and majesty of this park. The amazing scenery would be pleasurable enough, but even better there is an excellent pub to be found in the park.

The Continental is perched alongside the bank of the river and boasts a pleasant, modern beer garden overlooking the river and railway bridge. As trains trundled by I enjoyed a half of the house beer, Continental by Marble Brewery. I've never had a bad brew from Marble and this beer was no exception, a hoppy floral treat that matched the high standards of the park and pub. Sadly I didn't have much time to stay at The Continental as there were other pubs on the list before catching the tilty Virgin train back to London. But if time wasn't a constraint I could have spent a good few hours in this charming, comfortable pub. It was my favourite of the pubs I visited in Preston and I look forward to going back.

The Market Tavern was a bit of a jolt back to reality, an old school boozer nestled near, funnily enough, a bustling market. Comfortable booths line one side of the pub and a small serving area dispenses a tantalising selection of hand pumped ales and a good selection of bottled beer, with boozed up regulars propped up against the bar chatting about everything and nothing. I sampled a Bohemian, which appears to be Greene Kings attempt at a "craft" ale. It wasn't a bad effort, with a good hoppy flavour, but it wasn't anything spectacular. To be honest I still don't really know the difference between a craft ale and a real ale. Surely they're both "crafted" unless real ale is actually picked fully formed from trees or dug up from the ground? It seems the main thing that differentiates craft from real ale is about £2-£3 for the price of a pint and about 3-5% more ABV, plus about ten times more hops.

The last pub on my jaunt around Preston was the Old Vic. Handily situated across the road from Preston railway station, this pub looks a bit nondescript and run down from the outside, but venture inside and it's also a bit nondescript and run down . This is a big pub with a large central bar, and what appeared to be a faux wooden beams on the ceiling. It was quiet but comfortable enough when we visited. The first beer sampled was Doff Crocker from Three B's, which was a bit of a disappointment. It had a slightly watery flavour although a decent dry finish salvaged things a little bit. The Priory Gold from Burscough was better - a pleasant and refreshing hoppy ale with good floral flavours.

The Priory Gold was to be my last tipple at Preston before sauntering across the road and heading back to London Euston on a Virgin Pendolino. I've been travelling on these trains for a good few years now and they've finally fully fixed the issue with stinky carriages. This was due to a fault with the toilets which meant the ventilation system basically pumped everybody's bodily emissions back into the carriage. Not pleasant, especially when riding with a coach load of boozed up, kebab filled passengers, with the tilting of the carriages adding to the nausea factor.

Next up is a trip around the pleasant pubs of Bath. Hope you can join me. Cheers!

Beer festivals a go go - CAMRA Great British Beer Festival 2013 and Woodies, New Malden

Last week was a good time for drinking copious amounts of ale. First up was a visit to the CAMRA Great British Beer Festival 2013. This is the second time I've visited the festival at Olympia, and it's a much more pleasant space than its former home at the dark, dank Earl Courts. The light airy building is very welcoming and the lay out this year was great, with the bars spaced out nicely and avoiding the cramped conditions that build up as the day goes on. The only downside is that there never seems to be enough seating, and as I get older and creakier this is getting more important for me. To be fair most of the patrons who did grab a seat were probably way past creaking territory and were approaching snapping and cracking, but it would have been nice to have more places to rest my tired feet and beery head.

The only picture I took at the festival and it's not even indoors. Useless.

The Championship beer of Britain, announced at the festival, was the 1872 Porter from the Elland brewery. I managed to grab a sample and although it's a very solid porter, with a great malt start and a fruity finish, it felt a bit of a safe bet for a championship beer. With so many exciting breweries and beers appearing over the past couple of years, it's surprising that CAMRA claim that the best ale of the year is something that feels decidedly old fashioned. Maybe CAMRA are rebelling against the craft ale scene with this choice or maybe there's no agenda at all. Who knows?! Certainly not me. Not going to stop me from blogging about it though.

As usual there was an excellent selection of ales on offer and I sampled a fair few of them. Highlights included the Chocolate and Vanilla Stout from Titanic which was an excellent ale, with a wonderful sweet aroma leading to a perfect balance of sweetness and burnt hops.The Triple Chocoholic from Saltaire was another winner, with wonderful, subtle chocolate flavours and a good, long dry finish. Fine stuff all round. The American section was very busy, as it has been at past festivals, and by the time I got there there wasn't a lot of choice left. I tried a half of the Snake Dog IPA from Flying Dog which was a very solid American pale with strong hoppy flavours, but like a lot of American beers it was very boozy (7.3%) - almost unnecessarily so.

There were a couple of duffers. Sharp's Own from Sharps was a rather insipid effort at a golden ale, with a rather limp and watery taste that all beers from InBev seem to suffer from these days. It was still passable, and nothing like the horror of A-pork-alypse from Brains. A porter with bacon flavour added, it tasted exactly like taking a sip of a sub standard porter and then shoving bacon fries into your gob while still swallowing your booze. It wasn't completely horrible and after one sip I didn't start vomiting all over the floor while CAMRA stewards desperately threw sand on the floor in an effort to soak up my technicolour stream, but it wasn't a very pleasurable ale. Much like casting Ashton Kutcher as Steve Jobs, it was a brave but ultimately stupid effort.

Despite a couple of iffy beers I had a great time at the festival and it's probably the best one I've been to in the last six years or so. The food on offer was tremendous and I managed to get through a pork pie, scotch egg, wild boar burger, pork scratchings and seafood medley. In case you're wondering I didn't eat it all at the same time, had I done so I think I would have tested the very limits of how much vomit one man can produce.

The crazy decor at Woodies.

On Saturday I paid a visit to another beer festival, this time at Woodies in New Malden in SW London. Woodies is a former sports hall turned into a pub. Walking in you're bombarded with sports memorabilia everywhere, plastered on the floor, walls and ceiling. There's also a lot of funeral programmes (presumably of patrons past) dotted about, which seemed a bit morbid. Overall though it's all very eclectic and there was a jolly atmosphere. There were plenty of tasty ales on offer. Park Life from Windsor and Eton was a good start, a light hoppy session beer that I would be quite happy to drink all day. 80 Shilling from Dark Star was a fine attempt at a dark Scottish ale, with a strong malty flavour and undertones of orange peel. Good stuff.

The American Pale Ale by Clarence & Fredericks is probably one of the best things to come out of Croydon, where the brewers are based. Good hoppy flavours and floral notes made this a solid attempt at a pale ale. Frankly I was amazed the beer made it to the festival at all and the delivery wasn't hijacked by a gang of Croydon's drug fuelled crazies, or some bored kids. Finally, Good Health from Goody Ales was a solid golden ale sporting a nice dry finish, and a slight hint of Tim Brooke-Taylor.

A petting zoo was there for the day so I got to laugh at some sheep, ducks and goats, the primary reason for the existence of any petting zoo. I gave a wide berth to the geese though as I didn't fancy running, screaming, beers in hand, being chased by the orange beaked, beady eyed, honking bastards as they try to nip my legs into pieces one peck at a time. The day was further sullied by the arrival of my least favourite amateur paganists, the hated and sinister Morris Dancers. Thankfully this troupe, although enthusiastic, weren't very good, so I was pretty sure their bizarre ritual wasn't going to resurrect any ancient Pagan Gods this time.

My camera spontaneously combusted shortly after this photo was taken.

I had a great time in Woodies despite the Morris Dancers and if it wasn't located in what appeared to be the Twilight Zone I'd make more regular visits there. If you happen to be in the New Malden area it's well worth stopping by the place for a drink or five.

Next update will be the conclusion of my jaunt around Preston. I've also made a recent visit to Bath which I'll no doubt be blabbering on about. See you soon!

Preston Part 1

Ah the north of England. Despite being a soft southern lad I'm a seasoned visitor to the north, having spent many a summer holiday visiting my grandparents in Blackpool. At first I was scared of Northerners and their bizarre ways, such as wishing a good morning to strangers, wearing next to nothing when it hits 12 degrees, and serving massive portions of food but now I'm used to it and don't break down crying when an old man tries to have a conversation with me on the bus.

I recently went up to Blackpool with my family to celebrate my nan's 90th birthday, and we stayed in Preston. I'd only visited Preston a couple of times before and all I could remember was a bus station with fins and how windy the whole town was. Now that I had a couple of evenings to kill I thought I may as well have a good look around the place and also visit a few boozers.

First up was the Dog & Partridge. I actually visited this pub twice over the weekend. The first time was with my parents in tow. As we walked in a DJ was cranking out the Pixies at room shaking levels. As much as I enjoy listening to "Debaser" at ear splitting volume I thought perhaps this wasn't the place for my parents and we decamped to the Wetherspoons across the road (more on that later.) The second visit, with just my brother and The Lovely Jemma in tow, was a bit better. The pub is quite a shabby place split into two rooms. The front room was basically a God's waiting room with crusty Prestonians enjoying a quiet pint, while the back room had a younger clientèle attempting to dance along to dodgy rock music. Certainly an odd mix of but it was actually rather nice. Sadly the pint of Tetleys Mild that I sampled wasn't the best, suffering from the same watery flavour that all InBev ales seem to have these days.

Next on the list is the Black Horse Hotel, which I visited with my family. I must admit I was aprehensive of going into this pub, as it wasn't in the Good Beer Guide and there were leary lads standing outside. But then I remembered that everybody in Preston looks a bit leary so it was probably nothing to worry about. A Robinsons pub, this had a good selection of their ales on hand-pump including Old Tom, a knockout at 8.5%ABV. Apparently they'll only serve this in halves, presumably to avoid killing all of their potential repeat customers. I wasn't brave enough to try the Old Tom in front of my folks. Nobody wants to see their son as he slurs and stumbles down the windswept streets of Preston before collapsing into a bin. I instead opted for a pint of the reliable Unicorn, and as ever it was a solid best bitter with a good crisp finish. This small, charming pub was packed to the rafters and although enjoyable we moved on to somewhere where we might get a seat.

That place ended up being the local Wetherspoons. The Greyfrair is a barn of a pub and there was no trouble finding a place to sit, even on a lively Saturday night. I had to step in and order a pint of Burning Bails before my dad ordered a "Burning Balls." This was a perfectly average beer from the Acorn brewery, nothing special but it got the job done. Like the beer the pub itself was perfectly average and stereo-typically 'Spoons. The décor was bland with that maroon carpet that Wetherspoons owner Tim Martin must be getting a good deal on, the tables and chairs wooden and slightly shabby, the bar staff a little dozy and the customers looked like they'd come straight out of the "Big Book of Pub Caricatures." If you've been to a 'Spoons before you'd know what to expect and as a frequent visitor I felt pretty comfortable.

The Old Black Bull has won many awards and seemed to be the most respected pub by CAMRA of the ones we visited. This was a good old fashioned boozer with a large main room and a fairly long bar with a tempting selection of ales on offer. Again this is a place we had to visit twice. The first time there was live music on, and although the band sounded excellent the place was absolutely rammed with no standing space and no hope of getting to the bar. The second time was quieter apart a large rowdy group standing at the bar. I tried the Gold by Tatton Brewery which was probably the best pint of the weekend. Subtle fruity hops led to a superb dry finish, and overall a very enjoyable pint. Good stuff.

Part 2 will cover The Continental, The Market Porter and The Old Vic. Why not stop by and see which one was my overall favourite? Unless you've got something better to do in which case do that first then stop back here when you're done. Cheers!

Tap East, Stratford and The Bricklayers Arms, Putney

The gigantic Westfield shopping centre in Stratford has never appealed to me. To be presented with that many shops in one sprawling place scares the hell out of me and just the thought of the place sends me into a cold sweat. It doesn't help that Westfield is pretty much unnavigable inside and you just have to hope the bright light you're heading for is an exit and not a particularly well lit entrance to Boots. There are probably people in there who have never found the exit and have just resigned themselves to living in the shopping centre, like Tom Hanks in saccharine "The Terminal." Except these poor souls have got a better option of buying a nice pair of shoes or, as they're in Stratford, getting stabbed.

There is a glimmer of hope for the seasoned ale drinker in this bastion of capitalism. Head towards the back of shopping centre near Waitrose (which looks sorely out of place in Stratford) and you'll find Tap East. The modern interior is simple and even a little dull but the main attraction isn't the décor but the beer. Tap East has a microbrewery on site and you can see its gleaming tanks filled with mirth making juice through large glass windows at the back of the bar. I was visiting one of their festivals so there was a very good selection of guest beers, and it also featured collaborations between Tap East and other breweries.

Things got off to a good start with Hoxton Special IPA, a hoppy, fruity treat with a deceptively high ABV. It's OK though, I was sticking to halves, what could possibly go wrong? Next up was The Boss by Roosters. Thankfully it didn't taste of Bruce Springsteen, but it didn't really taste like ale either. Instead it tasted distinctly of grapefruit juice. Despite this it was oddly charming. The only collaboration ale I tried was the Beer Called Framboise, made in conjunction with Howling Hops. Despite the name I didn't twig this would be a raspberry flavoured beer, mainly because I'm an idiot. I'm not usually a fan of fruit beers. I find them too sickly and just a bit weird. After I took my first sip my immediate thought was "Oh God this is a fruit beer, where is the nearest toilet?" Luckily it was actually a really enjoyable beer. A nice dry flavour but plenty of fruity goodness as well. I wouldn't drink more than a half but it was good tipple.

Lone Ranger by Tap East was a fine if unmemorable English bitter. Texas Ranger by Mikkeller was very memorable though. This was a bit of a bonkers pint, as to be expected from those great danes over at Mikkeller. Sadly not great danes as in the dog, but rather the Danish people, although a bunch of dogs brewing beer would be pretty cool. Although I imagine the beer would probably taste a bit ruff. The Texas Ranger was a malty beer with chipotle chucked in as well. To be honest it was all a bit of a horror show but it was oddly drinkable. By this time of the night I had drunk beers with a combined percentage of about 50% so that probably helped the flavour. I wouldn't of drank more than a half of it though.

Food was provided by a man outside cooking ham, potatoes, and cheese in a massive pan. It seemed legit and I couldn't say no to this fatty feast so I bulked up on the delicious carbs. I thoroughly enjoyed my time at Tap East and it has definitely edged out the King Eddies as my favourite pub in Stratford.

I recently paid a return visit to the Bricklayers Arms in Putney, which is essentially a permanent beer festival - it even says this on a sign outside the building. It was a pleasure as always and some excellent beers were on offer. The highlights were the Triple fff Ramble Tamble, an excellent, fruity pale ale that went down a treat. In fact Triple fff had another winner with Apache Rose Peacock, a oddly named American IPA full of fruity goodness. Red Dawn by the Red Squirrel Brewery was also a treat. Thankfully it didn't taste of Patrick Swayze but was instead a very pleasant mild with a great rounded flavour.

As there was no official beer festival on I was free from the tyranny of the Morris Men who like to show up with their devil worshipper ways during festival events. In fact the pub was pretty much empty for the majority of the Saturday afternoon I was there, with it getting a little more busy as the evening went on. An excellent pub like this deserves a bit more patronage from the good folk of Putney.

The next update will be about my tales 'oop North as I visit the fine pubs of Preston. It will even have pictures! See you again soon.

The Bull's Head and the Queens Head, Chislehurst

If you've never heard of Chislehurst, it's basically the Hampstead of South London. If you've never heard of or been to Hampstead, it's a ludicrously expensive little alcove of North London, filled with "boutique" outlets, antique shops and other assorted nonsense frequented by the rich unemployed who have nothing to do but look at expensive tat all day. There's also a handful of pubs, all of which require you to have a credit check before buying a beer and handing over the deeds to your house before buying a gin and tonic. There was a Wetherspoons in Hampstead once for the more "unwashed" visitor but sadly it shut down.

Chislehurst doesn't feel as rich as Hampstead but it does have the gentle air of a place where money probably isn't an issue for most of its residents. There are a decent number of pubs in the area. I've only managed to visit three pubs so far, after reading on the internet on what would be the best bet for a pint of decent ale. I'm not one for spontaneity. Just ask anybody who has had to visit a theme park with me, as every ride, meal and toilet break is planned to the last detail in what I like to call "regimented fun."

None of the pubs in Chislehurst feature in the CAMRA Good Beer Guide, and you'd have to venture to Bromley or Eltham before you would find a pub featured in its hallowed, yellow and slightly curled pages. The Guide can't be treated as a bible though and there are a few good pubs in the Chislehurst area. First up is the Imperial Arms. This pub has been recently refurbished with rather eclectic décor and furnishings. It looks like the landlord has gone on a mad shopping spree in the local antique shops. Upon entering the pub I was greeted by two hand-pumps. After getting over the shock of talking hand-pumps I plumped for a pint of Harveys Best Bitter which was in excellent condition and very drinkable.

The other ale on was Sharps Doom Bar, so the pub may not have had the best ale selection but it's better than no ale, or even worse, John Smiths on keg. The only other customers in the pub were a group of rowdy labourers, their colourful language rather at odds with the attempted classiness of the décor. A tasty dish of ham, egg and chips rounded off a very pleasant stay at this comfortable, reasonably priced pub.

They like their cars ugly in Chislehurst

A not so reasonably priced pub is the The Bulls Head, in the more villagey part of Chislehurst nestled amongst quaint little shops selling wares you'd never want or need but will pay a fortune for anyway. An imposing building, it comprises of two bars, a restaurant, event/conference room and even has seven hotel rooms. The two bars are completely different decor and atmosphere wise - the lounge bar is decked out with traditional wooden walls and red booths and stools, and seemed more popular with the older clientèle who just wanted to enjoy a quiet drink. I was immediately attracted to this slice of old world pubbery, but The Lovely Jemma, with her young and modern ways, wanted to drink in the up to date main pub instead, complete with its sofas and high chairs (for adults.)

A pint of Youngs Bitter went down nicely, although it was close to £4 a pint which is a bit cheeky for this neck of the woods. The clientèle was certainly more moneyed than the Imperial Arms more down to earth lot. Standing at the bar was my favourite pub customer, the moneyed loud American. Not used to the surroundings of a nice country pub he resorted to barking orders at the staff and loudly telling "hillarious" stories to his tipsy British hosts. Despite him getting more rowdy and sweary as the afternoon went on I did what any British pub goer should do and stoically ignored him. Overall this was a decent pub but the high prices put me off making this a regular haunt.

Haven't had a TLJ nails picture in a while.
Here's the Summer Lightning.

My final Chislehurst pub is the Queens Head. Chislehurst seems to like pubs with "Head" in the name, with the aforementioned Bulls Head and there's also a Tigers Head in the vicinity. Let's hope a landlord called Richard doesn't open a pub named after himself here. The Queens Head is a Ember Inn, so basically it's a slightly more upmarket Wetherspoons. There was a good selection of ales and all were in good nick. Hop Back Summer Lightning was a pleasure as always. This was followed by a pint of Butcombe Brewery Great Grey Owl which smelled a bit like old socks but was a rather nice attempt at an American Pale Ale, with all the citrusy goodness that comes with the territory. A massive plate of nachos covered in pulled pork went down a treat and rounded off an enjoyable day out in this pretty little village.

I've got a fair few updates coming along in the next few weeks, including a jaunt around Preston and a trip to Tap East in Stratford, so don't give up on this blog just yet! Cheers.

Chelsea Flower Show and The Antelope, Chelsea

As the grand old age of 32 edges ever closer towards to me, I have recently started to dabble into more mature activities, as I start to slow down and enjoy the finer things in life. It's for this reason that I recently visited the RHS Chelsea Flower Show for the first time. I figured I could see some fantastic flowers and gardens and learn more about the wonder of nature, as well as chugging down as much champagne and Pimms as I could get into me without vomiting up into some poor sods gold medal roses display.

The quaffing of champers and Pimms was pretty much what every other gentleman was doing at the show, while also desperately convincing mature, wealthy old ladies that they know something about flowers and botany and other fruity stuff. However the crucial difference between them and me was that they were old and rich while I am young and although doing alight for money I am a bit tight. With champagne at £12 a glass and Pimms at £6 a go, in the end I eventually just went for a half of Wells Bombardier at an eye watering £2.20. Adding to the depression of the high price was that the beer was served from keg into a plastic cup. Then again even the champagne was served in plastic cups, presumably to stop disgruntled punters outraged at the prices from going mad, smashing the glass and cutting up the staff. Or, more likely, to stop them cutting up the flowers.

To be fair the Bombardier was OK, but anything would have tested refreshing after all the walking I had done that day - although I probably would have drawn the line at a Fosters. My companion and I were flagging after four hours of the show, while elderly guests fuelled by booze were outpacing us with ease. Hopefully one day I'll earn enough to drink my way throughout the entire show.

Despite the extraordinarily high prices for booze and food the flower show was a very pleasant experience. The gardens were pretty impressive, so impressive that I even remembered to take photos, reproduced throughout this blog post for your viewing pleasure. If you can't see any photos it's probably because the Royal Horticultural Society have asked me to take them all down. I wasn't a huge fan of the Australian garden which won the top prize, with my favourite garden being one done by the Alzheimer's Society. Well I think it was them as far as I can recall. Of course it being my favourite I completely forgot to take a photo of it.

But you don't read this blog to learn about my adventures looking at flowers. And if you do then I apologise for the lack of flower related activity in any of my previous posts you loon. I had arranged to meet up with my friend a couple of hours before visiting the show and being in Chelsea I was terrified were we would end up going for a drink. I had resigned myself to having to go to a boozer filled with braying moneyed chaps, dolled up yum mums and horrific music. The only comforting thought was that as it wasn't half term I wouldn't have to deal with dreadful parents who use pubs as a glorified crèche.

Luckily my fears were unfounded and we ended at a pleasant little boozer near Sloane Square called The Antelope. Featured in the Good Beer Guide, this small hostelry offers a decent Fullers range. I opted for the Gales Spring Sprinter, a pleasant light ale which was in excellent condition. The pub is divided into cosy nooks and crannies with a central semi circular bar. The prices were expensive but not eye watering for the area, and the atmosphere was genteel enough for a Wednesday lunchtime. The food menu had a selection of tasty dishes and the chips I stole from my companions plate were pretty good. But food always taste better when it has been swiped from another's plate. Probably best to make sure you know the person you're stealing food from though. Overall this pub is a handy spot if you're trapped in the area and fancy a pint.

With summer approaching I'm hoping to visit more pubs over the coming months and actually have some content for my blog. I appreciate your patience as you wait for the next thrilling instalment.. Ta-ra for now!

Park Tavern and Bankers Draft, Eltham

I've now been in South East London near the Eltham area for three months. Living down here has its advantages - it's affordable, fairly safe and it's near the M25 for a quick escape. There is one glaring problem though - a lack of decent pubs. Most of the pubs in the area aren't particularly appealing, with the "eclectic" customers mainly sticking to lager or Blue WKD, from what I can tell when I hurriedly walk past the pubs desperately trying to avoid eye contact. Sometimes they're drinking both, resulting in them leaning against a lamppost puking up liquid that's the colour of every Skittle mixed together. As a skinny, white, and slightly snobbish gentleman of 31 years old, I don't really want to drink in these places in fear of my face being punched or glassed in.

However there is one nugget I've found in this sea of crap. One pub trying to turn the tide of sub-par pubs in Eltham is the Park Tavern. This little boozer just off the high street is a welcome respite from the grim lager dispensing pubs/cattle markets, including the Old Post Office just across the road. Walking into this small, narrow pub I was warmed with the sight of several handpumps with a selection of tasty ales on offer. This is such a rare sight in Eltham that for a second I thought I had actually been glassed to death by one of the patrons of the Old Post Office and I was having a delirious hallucination while doctors frantically tried to save my life. I soon realised I was in fact still alive and firmly in reality when I was charged £3.75 for a pint of Rudgate Ruby Mild. There is no way I would charge myself that much for a pint in my dreams. The pint was very tasty though, in good condition and the subtle chocolate and mocha flavours coming through well.

Despite all the good things the Park Tavern had going for it, including a warm buzzy atmosphere, friendly staff and a very well kept pint of mild, I just found the prices to be too much for a pleasant local. I haven't returned since my first visit because if I'm going to pay high prices for beer I may as well do it in one of the many pubs in Central London after work, which offer a more exciting selection, rather than in the wilds of South East London. It's just too high a price to tempt me out for a couple of pints.

After my one and only visit to the Park Tavern I thought I may as well stop by the nearby Wetherspoons in Eltham before heading home. The Bankers Draft is tiny for a Wetherspoons, in fact it is rumoured to be their smallest outlet. A decent selection of ales were on offer and I went for the St Davids Ale from Brains. The beer was in OK nick, and it was stunningly cheap compared to the Park Tavern. But this is a odd Wetherspoons with many a "character" to be spotted. Despite the pub being very small, everybody was keeping to themselves and there wasn't much mixing amongst the clientèle. To be honest I felt this was a blessing and me and The Lovely Jemma were able to enjoy our drinks in relative peace without having to strike conversation with what appeared to be the local crazies.

Apart from these two pubs I haven't found anything nearby worth drinking. In fact since I moved to the area in February two pubs have closed down and one was nearly bought out by a local developer. Somebody please come to the Mottingham/Eltham borders and build a nice, welcoming pub with a decent selection of ales. You'll be guaranteed at least one customer! I'll probably stop by as well.