Apparently they used to have offices just off Piccadilly
Circus, but now seemed to have moved all their main functions to Watford, no
doubt saving them millions of pounds in the process, but they have kept a small
Corporate Affair presence in the capital, located in Brettenham House, just on
the end of Waterloo Bridge. So it was on a glorious sunny Thursday evening that
I confused tourists by having my portrait was taken for prosperity, clutching
my lucky Euro Millions ticket for the following day.
"Who wants to be a millionaire?" - Well I have to replace a rail ticket now!
I was accompanied by the same group who had visited the
Angel Islington, minus Spiky haired Ed who had decided to join a rival works
outing. So we were without the youth but at least we wouldn’t either be delayed
for hair styling reasons, or get knocked over by London transport.
First notable point of the visit was the amazingly
attractive young lady on the tube whose short summer dress and gravity defying
cleavage rendered us all into giggling schoolboys. The walk from Embankment
tube through Victoria Embankment Gardens was no better with seemingly crowds of
young nubile females descending on the capital for no other reason than to make
4 middle aged men question their moralities.
Once the photo op was captured outside the Camelot offices,
it was just a short walk across The Strand into The Wellington, a well
positioned Nicholson’s pub, right next door to the Lyceum Theatre for all those
thirsty Lion King visitors.
The Wellington - Note lack of mash outside.
It’s certainly an attractive pub, with lovely
original features, long wooden bar, moulded ceilings, and neo-gothic exterior.
Ok, I got that from the website, but it’s all true! Alas the experience wasn’t up
to the expectation. Firstly, there was no Cask Marque certificate to be found,
the first barman I asked didn’t have a clue what I was talking about, I might
as well have been asking for a barium enema and the second guy earnestly took
me to the Cask Marque sign outside the pub. Once I’d explained that I needed
the certificate with the QR code he fell into that last retreat of all bemused
staff – “Oh, I’m not sure then. You’ll need to come back tomorrow and speak to
the boss, she’ll know where it is.” Well, she might know where it is, but she
should have it on the wall and she should have told you what it’s all about!
2/10, try harder and how about serving decent potions of mash with your sausage
and mash?
Charlie demands more mash in his pint at the Wellington.
Leaving as soon as we could, it was a quick hop back across
the Strand, into Savoy Street and the fantastically named Savoy Tup. This, from
the exterior signage would seem to be an old Young’s pub but seems to be an independent
free house now. The interior is light and fresh and alongside the selection of
ales was quite a range of lagers, including one I’d certainly never heard of
before, Brauhaus Riegele. The website calls it an “ale” but I’d suggest it’s a
standard Bavarian Pilsner, but whatever, it came in a brilliant handled mug and
was cool and refreshing on a hot evening. The jolly barmaid also seemed very
chuffed that someone was scanning the Cask Marque code (note to the Wellington –
there it was proudly displayed on the wall!) – “It never works for me” she
commented, grinning when I showed her the pub now sitting in my list of pubs
visited.
Savoy Tup, note handled glass resting on belly. Note rail pass falling out of pocket.
The pub was heaving with other drinkers and we stood outside
to enjoy our drinks and it was at this point I innocently placed my suit jacket
over the top of my man-bag to free up a hand and made the mistake of the
evening which was only noticed when we reached the final pub, The Coal Hole a
hundred yards further west down the Strand.
My rail pass was gone! I can only presume it had tumbled out
of my inverted suit jacket pocket but however it had actually disappeared there
was no sign of it even after retracing our steps a couple of times. This
obviously brought somewhat of a dampener onto the evening, no matter how many
times the boys tried to take my mind off it. Even a fine pint of Purity’s Mad
Goose ale, another easy Cask Marque capture from the wall (Wellington, looking
at you here!) and a bottle of Duvel failed to raise my spirits and I rather
missed all the fine points of the Coal Hole in my depression.
The only photo of the Coal Hole. This was my depressed expression rendered impossible by the botox-ing property of the Duvel
There was a last minute stay of execution for “good times”
when a chatty American girl in McDonald’s was tempted by my Hot Chilli Sauce
(?) but this was soon snuffed out by the £4.20 charged to go from Embankment to
Paddington (get a grip Boris!) and the rail replacement coach laid on by First
Great Western.
So much for chance hey!
Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited = 44
Rallying cry for the next visit = More Mash Now!
Did we miss Spiky haired Ed? = Too bloody right. None of
this would have happened if he’d been there with his jack the lad attitude and
devil may care trousers.
Next Stop = Euston Road
P.S. There is an obvious Post Script to this in that I now
realise I’ve visted three pubs in The Strand when of course I have to visit The
Strand later in the tour. Hopefully there’ll be another Cask Marque pub
somewhere along the street!