Free Parking

Ever since I started the tour I have been doing some conscious and some sub-conscious head scratching, wondering how the heck I was going to cover the Free Parking square. Other “odd” squares had been quite easy, I mean Electric Company, all you needed to do was think of an Electric Company in London and bingo, pretty simples, but (as was pointed out to me by Nate Dawg) there is no free parking in London, unless there’s some little old man who rents his drive out for goodwill somewhere. I could of course have tried to visit one of the luxurious NCP Car Parks, but that wouldn’t have been fulfilling the “free” part of the quest would it?

As these and other thoughts (the other ones usually being  about beer and women (not necessarily in that order)) were tumbling around in my minuscule head, it dawned on me that the week when Free Parking was due to be ticked off was also half-term holiday week. I’d already booked this week off work, ostensibly to spend some quality time with the children, but in reality I was looking forward to a week of watching Jeremy Kyle in my pants eating ketchup sandwiches. And anyway all the children are of that sort of age when spending any time with me is hardly a major pleasure in the first place, or at least that’s how it appears as they clock up another 24 hours without leaving their respective bedrooms.

So with the best will in the world I set about arranging a visit to London in conjunction with the Monopoly Tour trying to cover the Free Parking square as best I could. There are loads of books about free things you can do in London, highlighting all the best possible ways to spend a day out without spending two arms, two legs and half your head, so perhaps if I could focus in on the “free” element the “parking” part would also fall into place. And then, like a falling piano, it hit me!

What are some of the most famous free things in London? Things that are world renown and the envy of other capital cities? The answer? The Royal Parks of course! And there you have it, problem solved; it would be a day in London taking in some of the free Royal Parks, making a day of “Free Park-ing”! Geddit? I would be going around the “parks” and not paying a penny, so I would be “park-ing for free”! I thank you and good night, my work here is done!

And just to top my feeling of being more chuffed than a Xmas robin who’s been given a scarlet waistcoat,  as well as dragging my youngest, Reubot, along the middle one, daughter Han-Ban, also actually amazingly wanted to come along too, as long as best friend (very best friend) Lizstock could accompany of course. I’m sure they were only fleecing me for the cost of the train tickets and lunch money so I set them a challenge to see how much free stuff they could get!

Dad, dad, there's a lady on the 07:42 from Charring Cross who fancies you!

 

Luckily the weather gods were smiling and it was a pretty glorious day as we set off from the station, first free thing was captured was a copy of the excellent Metro. Once again I scanned it to see if I was included in “Rush Hour Crush” but alas no such luck, so perhaps I need to up the anti on my new pocket squares and make sure my new Lord Grantham suit is looking especially good. Of course whilst the weather gods were on our side, the train gods were in a right old pissed off mood as delays and cancellations led to a jam packed train and it looked like every earnest half term parent were taking their kids into London, but hopefully not for some “free park-ing”! (Copywrite, all patents pending!)

Hamleys - Apparently they do not use an apostophe

 

Han-Ban and Lizstock did indeed escape from us at Oxford Circus, after securing £20 lunch money of course, leaving Reubot and me to retread some of the steps of my evening on Marlborough Street as we took the short stroll down Regents Street to the famous Hamleys toy store. Now Reubot had especially asked to visit and I was only too happy to comply as firstly, a visit to Hamleys is free and secondly it’s a well easy way to entertain kids for an hour or two. The shop is littered with staff demonstrating (i.e. showing off!) some of the more popular toys and generally clowning around with the visiting children.

They look better in lego, at least this lot are free too!

 

Now I have to admit, this would be quite possibly my worst job in the world, having to do this forced enjoyment for the benefit of others, but I’ll give the staff their due, they genuinely seem to really enjoy what they are doing and it wasn’t that much of s surprise to hear Reubot announce that he’d like to work there one day. But although we had a good old time trying out all the various toys (I was especially taken with a rubber sucker crossbow being demonstrated by a blonde skin-tight black attired “gadget girl”) we were on a free day, and the prices at Hamleys definitely aren’t free.

My plan was to continue down Regents Street and cut across The Mall to the first of the parks but both of us agreed that even though it was the early side of midday, a stop for something to eat would be the right thing to do. As if by magic, we were just crossing Glasshouse Street and I spied TheLeicester Arms, another Taylor Walker pub, so knew it would be Cask Marque a-ok.

Family resemblance? I have NEVER looked this glum by a pub

 

It was probably a good idea to eat slightly early as the place was just ticking over in terms of customers and we easily got a table and ordered some suitable grub. The pub was fully bedecked ready for Halloween; cobwebs across the lamps and windows, plenty of creepy posters and some brilliant skeleton toppers for the beer pumps. I also continued the spooky theme by ordering a pint of Bath Ales Dark Side (which was darkly delicious – maybe made more so because it felt a bit naughty drinking so early in the day) and when I came to pay I noticed a sign advertising 10% off real ales for all CAMRA members. As quick as a flash, I produced my membership card only for the barmaid to try to swipe it through her payment machine – now it that had worked that really would have made it a free day!

Ooooo, spooky!

 

I had a good search around for the Cask Marque certificate but could see it anywhere and I reckoned asking the barmaid might have left her so confused she’d have tried to use the till as a cash point machine, so it will be down to lovely Trevor at Cask Marque Grand Central Station to add the scan if he’ll accept the photo of Reubot rather than the one of me!

St James's Park - Apparently they do use an apostophe

 

I’ll not bore you with the walk through Piccadilly Circus, through Waterloo Place across The Mall and into St James's Park (oh I just did, well now you feel exactly as Reubot did – honest I could take that boy to the Serengeti, show him a pride of lions feasting on freshly killed antelope and he’s still just shrug) but we’d made it to the first of our Royal Parks and at least the sight of a squirrel every 2 yards seemed to cheer him up.

 

After tripping over a pelican we found ourselves by Buckingham Palace (with the flag up no less) but it was no time to stop for tea and iced buns as we turned left to go up Constitution Hill whilst taking in a small part of our second free park, GreenPark.

At this point I’d like to just mention a couple of memorials we spotted which seeing as it’s almost Armistice or Remembrance Day (take your pick) made them seem all the more poignant in the chilly autumn sun. At the Buckingham Palace end of Green Park there’s the Canadian War Memorial, a beautiful item of simple peaceful reflection which is the exact opposite of the powerful and “in your face” force of the memorial to the Royal Artillery at the top end of Constitution Hill by the Wellington Arch. But possibly the most effective is the Australian War Memorial (also by the Wellington Arch) which is so clever in its construction and design it makes the effect all the more, well……..effective.

Detail from the Canadian War Memorial

 

By now we’d reached our third free Royal Park, Hyde Park and unfortunately for us we couldn’t do much more than skirt the outer ring as our destination was Kingsbridge and the museums.

Hyde Park Corner

 

A drink was called for on the way of course and tucked into a corner just off the main Knightsbridge road was the Tattersall Tavern, another Taylor Walker house. It had also obviously received the Taylor Walker Halloween decoration pack, as there were more cobwebs hanging off every available light, lamp and picture, including one that went right across the Cask Marque certificate but by the power of Scooby Doo, it didn’t stop me managing to scan it. A quick half pint of Adnams Ghost Ship (see, still continuing with the Halloween theme) and a J2O later we were on our way past the majesty of Harrods (“Is it all one shop?” asked Reubot) and into the Science Museum. I have to admit, this wasn’t our first choice, but neither of us fancied the long long queue by the Natural History museum and with no queue whatsoever at the Science Museum there really wasn’t any competition.

Idiot fag-woman has her head over the Cask Marque plaque

 

Again, going back to the original plan, I’d hoped that after the museum we could walk up to our forth and final park, Kensington Gardens and maybe take a early evening meal in another pub, but hours of waiting and standing around in the Web Lab had knackered us both in so in agreement it was but a short tube ride back round to Paddington and the chaos of fatalities on the tracks and more delayed trains. We made it home finally and apart from the fact I had a stranger’s buttock on my shoulder for the journey to Reading all was ok, especially as we claimed a final “free” thing when the Costa’s lady charged us the take away price of the muffin and we ate it in store. That’s 30p to you and me – makes you almost tempted to change it into pennies and throw them at Starbucks!

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited = 104 (with one to come)

How much free stuff did Han-Ban and Lizstock get?  = Useless! A big fat zero!

Differences with this visit = I got home and could remember every minute of the trip!

Next Stop = Strand

Vine Street

Now the journey to Vine Street had been approached for some time with a nice frisson of anticipation as it’s the nearest square on the Monopoly Board to our offices; which stand on the north bank of Tower Bridge. It’s also another one of the odder Monopoly squares in that is doesn’t seem to have any notable features or historical factors which would explain why it was included in the game in the first place, it’s also a frequent headache to those trying to complete the Monopoly tour as it has no licensed premises anywhere along its length.

The most boring street in London? BGC doing his best street-walker impression.

Luckily for us who are not burdened by such details as actually drinking on the specific street we can take the chance to move just one street to the east and hit The Minories, which has no less that two Cask Marque accredited pubs contained within its length. In fact there are a few more but seeing as these are so nearby to my workplace it’s no surprise to find that places like The Minories (at the Tower Hill end of the street) and TheStill and Star (at the Aldgate end) have already been visited and scanned. Somehow though, I had so far not visited the two pubs in the middle of the street; the independent Peacock and another Fuller’s pub, (or rather hotel) The Chamberlain.

Because this was going to be a “home match” for us with no tube travel involved, I’d tried my hardest to get a maximum attendance for tonight’s visit but alas certain things had gone against me. Tour stalwart Buddy Rob was also otherwise engaged and at first we thought that Charlie (who was away on business in Durham (although to be fair he did research to see whether there was a Vine Street in Durham – turns out there is)) would also miss the jaunt but he did make it back in time. I then managed to coerce Mags back for a return visit and tour novice Niresh also made his first appearance - so by the end it was a well respectable 8 of us that made the very short walk in the drizzly evening past Tower Hill tube station and up the Minories, pausing only long enough for a quick snap-shot of the Vine Street sign (really, this street has got nothing in it) and then sprinting across the road to the first stop of the night, The Peacock.

Ma Peacock, cock, cock, cock.......etc

 

The first thing that greeted us was the Cask Marque certificate perched on the wall by the end of the bar, the second thing was the landlord explaining the origins of the three cask ales on draught as I was squinting at the labels. Alongside the well-known Best Bitter from Ringwood were interesting looking offerings from Deverell’s and Ironworks Ale. Once again I seemed to be the person in the electric chair as everyone (apart from Mags (Amaretto – fruit based drink for the lady) and Ed (Stella – mass produced euro-fizz based drink for the boy band member) said “we’ll have what Rich is having….”

Which is fine, but only to a point and that point being three sips into the drink when they all pull facing and say “oooo, I don’t really like the ales, it’s a bit too bitter for me.”

So it was with something approaching doom laden preconception that I ordered a pint of the Deverell’s beer called Redemption, which I chose first only due to the fact that there was a scantily clad devil lady on the pump clip – who says that sexist marketing doesn’t work!

Pint of naked woman please......

 

Once we’d got the complaints about the beer out of the way we retreated to a back table and assessed the pub. It was certainly a “locals” pub with a real community spirit about the place especially as it seemed to be darts night with hoards of players descending on the place with much good natured joshing going on. I can’t say the place is particularly salubrious, indeed there was a certain rough at the edges charm about the joint, but there again I like pubs like that, I feel I fit well in!

We're smiling cos we're so full of crisps.

 

Seeing as we were on a go-slow tonight with only the two pubs involved a second drink was called for and the some of the BGC sheep did decide this time to drop out of the drinks suggestion box but Aussie Pete and Charlie stuck with my new choice of the Ironworks Ale and No-nickname Michael remained with a second pint of Redemption. The second round was well timed to coincide with the arrival of another newbie to the tour, Elleni who announced her attendance with a pint of Fosters shandy and treated all 8 of us to a bag of crisps…….that’s right one bag between the lot of us!

 

One crisp later it was time to move across the road to TheChamberlain, which is not really a pub but a Hotel but that said, seeing as it’s a Fuller’s Hotel the hotel bar is pretty much like a pub. Nice shiny beer pumps and nice polished tables and bar. There was also a nice shiny pretty barmaid wearing sexy glasses* and only too happy to serve us pints of Bengal Lancer, Fuller’s very fine IPA.

Shiny bar pumps. Note sexy barmaid, note sexy glasses......

 

I think I’ve mentioned before how when asking for the certificate many a bar staff have directed us to the Cask Marque plaque which normally sits outside the pub, well the pretty barmaid did exactly this but in The Chamberlain the plaque is on the inside. We explained further about the certificate which led us to a discussion with the burly bar manager, a nice Polish chap who would have loved to have helped us but unfortunately didn’t have a clue where the certificate was. He even offered to phone his boss but we decided that was far too much trouble, especially when we can rely on Trevor to add the scan from Cask Marque HQ.

We started to look towards the bottles for inspiration on our next round and Fuller’s absolutely gorgeous London Porter certainly ticked my box, Aussie Pete again followed suit but Charlie started ploughing his own furrow with a bottle of Sierra Nevada. Thinking I was doing New guy Micky a favour by getting him a bottle of Discovery (he was seriously struggling with the Bengal Lancer) I hadn’t realised that he’d asked Pete to get him a whisky instead – ah well Micky you’ll just have to pretend the Discover is a very big dram.

It was about this time that the night’s strange story happened as during a visit to the Gents I was just on the final shakes when another chap stumbled into the toilets and pronounced loudly “I’ve been looking for a shirt like that for ages, will you sell it to me?” Unsurprisingly I was rather taken aback by the suggestion; I make it a rule never to buy or sell anything in the toilet, and didn’t quite know how to respond. In the end I made my response a quick escape from the loos, just in time to get a new round of unusual bottled drinks (Chimay Blue for Pete and me) whilst Ed was trying his best to corrupt the others with some nasty Jägerbombs.

This was just before the "twisting incident" - she looks like butter wouldn't melt but note devil's eyes!

 

The corruption certainly worked on Mags who I blearily remember painfully twisting my nipple at one point. Whether this was part of some group based S&M practice that she does will everyone or something specifically aimed at me (or perhaps she was also after my shirt?) I’m not sure, but it did hurt and could only be salved with the final random bottled beer of the night, Fruitesse from Brouwerij Liefmans which whilst definitely living up to its fruity claims was also sickly sweet and felt very manufactured. Aussie Pete tried to tempt me back towards Tower Hill and the lure of KFC but I stuck to my Paleo guns and instead headed up to Aldgate with Niresh. The final memory of the night was being shushed in the quiet carriage…………..as Derek Jameson might have said “Did they mean us, they surely do(n’t)………”

* - Aussie Pete later discovered the sexy barmaid was Italian. I have to say she was far more impressed with my Italian of "il cucchiaio" than Pete's awfully clumsy "una cioccolata per favore". If anyone can correctly suggest why I would know this random Italian word I'll buy them a pint............and a packet of crisps (between the two of us)

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited = 103

Drinking Advice = Don’t mix your drinks, even if they are all beer!

Fashion Advice = At least see how much he was offering for the shirt………..

Next Stop = Free Parking

Intermission #2

Just a short update to announce that Magical Trevor of Cask Marque did indeed add on the two “missing” scans from last week’s visit which meant that by the Power of Greyskull I am now duly crowned Cask Marque Ambassador to the Commonwealth and Independent Territories and all who sail in them.

In fact, I’ll go one better (exactly one to be precise) because due to some sloppy mathematics I had actually miscalculated my total number of scans and so am currently celebrating on a grand total of 101 scans, which either makes me a collecting maniac or a candidate for a liver transplant – remember kids, drink responsibly!

So what does my newly endowed title allow me to do? Can I drive my sheep over London Bridge? Wear a sword on the train? (I wish!) Plant crops on common land? Well not surprisingly none of the above, but what it does allow me to do is attend a Beer Appreciation Course and Tasting Day at a brewery courtesy of those lovely ladies and gentlemen at Cask Marque. I had a choice of three breweries and not surprisingly I chose to attend a day (25^th Jan – put it in your diaries) at the Fuller’s Brewery in Chiswick. After making my choice Cask Marque’s Twitter fanatic Alastair let me know that he was also hoping to attend this day – so if all goes well I can put a face to the tweets.

I will, however, end this submission with a slight apology. I know that if I was a professional writer I would have landed on the final Monopoly square, Mayfair and claimed my 100^th scan, no doubt whilst dragging a fridge behind me, surrounded by all my old school friends, carried high on the shoulders of 54 other people also called BGC and all to the accompaniment of my number one single in Albania. But alas I am not such a person and can only tell this story as it really happened. But keep tuned in because the trail will continue its bumpy journey. Aussie Pete is well on track to claim his 100^th scan and maybe if he does it whilst landing on Mayfair he’s promised to do it whilst playing a football team at tennis!

That's right - I am "really" spoiling them!

Marlborough Street

Marlborough Street, Marlborough Street, let me grab the map……..ok where are you……mmmmm……come on, come on……….Marlborough Street? Eh can’t find it anywhere!

Well Pop Pickers that’s because it doesn’t actually exist and anyone who doesn’t believe me can shove it up their Old Kent Road!

The fact is the road that appears on the Monopoly Board should really be named “Great Marlborough Street” because, well, funnily enough that’s the full name of the road that runs parallel with Oxford Street at the West End of Soho.

Once I’d actually nailed down the location of the street it was the usual easy task to locate the nearest Cask Marque pubs. Although the street does adjoin Regents Street and as previously mentioned, run parallel to Oxford Street, both places we’re yet to visit, there are so many Cask Marque pubs around this area I felt we were fairly safe to zoom in on the 5 places that surround Marlborough Street itself without polluting our future visits on the board…….oh, sorry, that’s Great Marlborough Street of course.

After the oasis of independent non-chain pubs that was last week’s visit to Camden it was a bit of a shock to realise that all of the five pubs I’d put on the plan for this week were part of major chains; we had one from Greene King and another from Taylor Walker and in an amazing co-incidence no less than three from Nicholson’s.

Now dedicated readers of the blog (yes there are a couple……at least!) will know that our last visit to a Nicholson’s was less than impressive when a surly landlord didn’t seem to be too bothered about getting us the Cask Marque certificate, so you can imagine that having received no response from Nicholson’s nearly two weeks after I’d sent them some feedback, I was rather reluctant to venture back into three of their emporiums, especially all in one night!

Well blow me down with a great big ostrich feather if I didn’t get a phone call yesterday from the aforementioned landlord ringing to ensure we hadn’t gone away with the wrong impression. In his warm dulcet Welsh baritone he also invited us back to have a pint on him next time we’re passing. Now I’m not sure if the tour will take us back near Covent Garden again but if it does I’ll be sure to pop in. I wonder if I should remove the Phil Mitchell comment…………………….?

So it was with a much more hopeful heart that saw us emerge from Oxford Circus tube to find ourselves directly opposite the first pub, The Argyll Arms. However the journey here hadn’t been without its casualties; No-nickname Michael had started the voyage with us but when changing trains at Embankment he’d seen his home-tube-line and the temptation of a quiet night in and a sensible bedtime was too much temptation when compared to another evening’s idiotic drinking. But fortunately that didn’t mean we were a man-down because we had a guest tourer on board in the shape of Munchkin Stevey who was on an away trip down from the Manchester Office. After he’d got over his initial amazement of the electric street lamps and the tube (“those t’trains drive b’neth ya very feet I tell thee!”) and he’d stopped screeching “Mechanised Horse!” at every car he saw, he seemed to settle down and enjoy the night out.

The Argyll Arms has to be one of the most classical ornate pubs in the country and features numerous times in the book “London Heritage Pubs”; and if it’s got into that then it must be pretty special. It has a brilliant ornate back-bar, etched glass snug screens and huge decorated mirrors advertising beers and breweries. Luckily it wasn’t too crowded as it can get extremely cramped, indeed I think it was Aussie Pete who said how they could fit many more people in if they’d just rip out all this decoration…………well that’s what you get when you come from a country with no history.

BGC about to enter the Argll Arms - Is the chap in the background weeping because the tour's in town?

The Argyll was one of the three Nicholson’s pubs on the list for tonight and after we’d all been served with our drinks (pints of Pilsner Urquell all round – well it is their 170^th anniversary) the pretty red haired barmaid was only too happy to try to get the scan for us as the certificate was hanging proudly behind the bar. Well, she might have been pretty and good at pulling pints but the scan seemed beyond her so the massive Scottish landlord plucked it off the wall and handed it over for us to scan (I swear he held the frame with in one palm!) – Well maybe it wasn’t the barmaid’s fault as all of us struggled to get the scan although we somehow got there in the end. “How many times have you had to do this?” Charlie joked with the landlord, “Oh, a couple of times” this BFG rumbled back “but you know they’ve never been as bad with their phone as this lot” he winked. So there you have it in a nutshell – this is how you run a busy West End London Pub – take note White Horse………

I would have gladly stayed for another drink in this most genial of surroundings but with 5 places on the agenda time was of the essence so we had to push on, but it was only a short 5 minute walk down Argyll Street, across (Great) Marlborough Street and over into Carnaby Street and into the Shakespeare’s Head. This is another historical pub, built in 1735 no less, (although it doesn’t appear in “London Heritage Pubs”) and is now under the Taylor Walker banner. After we’d all stood and admired the life-sized bust of the great man leaning out of an upper storey window it was generally felt that having a drink in the hand would be the thing to do.

Stop bloody staring at me and go and get a drink!

Once again, and for no good reason that I know of, I was elected beer selector for the group and quite randomly plumped for something I’d never seen before, Autumn Envy from Stonehenge Brewery. Now autumn beers are usually ruby red or dark brown in colour, but get this, this beer was green. Yep, you heard me right, green. And not just a greenish tinge, but a deep brackish green that made you feel like you were drinking pond water, perhaps not something the good brewers at Stonehenge thought about. Unfortunately I have to be honest here and report that although it was interesting to drink green beer, the actual experience wasn’t that good; it tasted ok at the start but sadly got very chewy and claggy towards the end of the pint – the others also agreed – perhaps we just prefer our beer brown.

Green! See, you wouldn't believe me, but there it is!

The conversation was turning typically laddish; who was the best Bond and which was the best Bond film? Munchkin Stevey seemed to be a Bond encyclopaedia and admitted to watching the Bond movie channel (there is such a thing apparently) for at least 3 hours a day! Meanwhile all certificate scanners had successfully got the scan (Landlord more than happy to have us leaning into the bar to take the scan) which meant we were “2 from 2” which isn’t something that usually happens on these visits.

Aussie Pete finally realises his true vocation in life - and that of all his fellow country men!

Again moving on far too quickly, it was only a quick dash around the corner to Kingly Street and The Clachan the second Nicholson’s pub of the night. Again another impressive looking pub (probably the outside looks more impressive than the inside though) and one with perhaps the most helpful member of bar staff ever. After we’d got our pints (Flying Scotsman from Caledonian for me) we’d lapped this circular pub at least three times trying to find the certificate, but had failed miserably. I was convinced they had got it somewhere as a friend and visited during the week and had told me where the certificate was, but we couldn’t seem to find it anywhere. Aussie Pete had asked a member of staff who had also lapped the pub with us and also gone to the upstairs dining area but unbeknownst to us whilst we all retired outside to enjoy the drinks this chap had continued to search for it, eventually coming outside to report that he’d asked his manager and apparently they had never had one (?), but the White Horse (just round the corner) definitely does have one. What service! He also did a much better job of collecting the glasses than Aussie Pete!

Happily for the scanners, the White Horse was our next stop, and once again we were off far too quickly, back around to Carnaby Street and up to the White Horse in Newburgh Street. It was at this point that Aussie Pete’s phone rang and he was order from home to eat something. Meekly he slipped off to the café opposite and promptly ordered a giant sized portion of Spaghetti Bolognese, leaving the rest of us to order his beer and get his scan from the pub.

 The certificate was pinned to a pillar by the bar but to scan it, it took all the dexterity of a contortionist and guiding advice of someone the other side of the pillar to manage to complete the action. As I was trying to scan a petite barmaid happily took my phone to complete the manoeuvre for me, Spiky-haired Ed who was next in line started to scan and a second barmaid came along to help. When I took a second look I saw that there was a whole host of gorgeous barmaids queuing up to help us………..well they probably weren’t but certainly I’ve never seen so many female bar staff all in one pub at one time. I remembered that this was the pub I’d tweeted beforehand so perhaps that’s why they were all there, just getting ready to announce the brass band and unveil the welcome banner……………………………………………we’re still waiting L

Returning outside Sybil helpfully took Aussie Pete’s pint over to his “table for one” and a bouncer (the friendliest most polite bouncer ever Pete later reported) poured the beer into a plastic glass, which led to much jovial pee-taking when the loneliest diner in London re-joined us after polishing off the spaghetti. Remember Pete, real men ching!

The lonliest diner in all of London

Last but not least it was (once more) a quick walk down to the next and final pub of the evening, the Blue Posts, a Greene King pub in Kingly Street. Again (seems to be a whole evening of “agains”) this was another ornate pub with an interesting history (apparently the Beatles used to meet their managers in the pub) and another set of friendly helpful bar staff. “Do you have the Cask Marque Certificate?” we breathlessly asked – yes they did, proudly presenting it for us to scan. But what was this “Scan not recognised”? Turns out the certificate expired on the 30^th of September and the new one was yet to arrive! Agh so near and yet so far……….oh well 3 from 5 was a pretty good haul for the night and meant that Aussie Pete got his 50^th scan and consequently the Cask Marque Polo Shirt (no, don’t start that again!)

On the other hand I am now just 2 shy of my 100 scans and that long awaited title of Cask Marque Ambassador. Looks like I’ll have to ask Cask Marque Trevor to do my “knighting” from Cask Marque HQ!

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited = 98

Things to do next time = Not so many pubs! These were 5 brilliant places and yet we sprinted from one to the next. Definite mistake.

The next blog = Try not to use the word “again” again (DOH!)

Next Stop = Vine Street

This weeks tourists (L-R) Aussie Pete, BGC, Buddy Rob, Charlie, Munchkin Stevey, Spiky-haired Ed, Sybil and half of New Guy Micky's head - The reason behind the two photos is to show Steve's bi-polar disorder

Community Chest #2

The second Community Chest square landed us in a bit of a conundrum, just where should we go? It would be far too easy to just Google “Community Chest” and “London” again, which is what I did last time, and pick the next result on the list. There were suggestions of a trip to Soho as apparently you can find “chests” for the “community” there, but leaving aside the erotic implications, on a practical level we’d be travelling too near areas we need to keep for later in the tour.

It was Charlie I think who had the idea of selecting an area we weren’t going to visit anyway and then try to mangle a reason for going there into a connection with Community Chest. I can’t quite remember why Camden got chosen other than it certainly wasn’t going to be an area that we’d be covering on the Monopoly Board and it has a reputation of good drinking places.

So how to mangle a reason into going there……..

But in fact it turned out that inspiration for the reason wasn’t too far away. When I researched the nearby Cask Marque pubs from the Cask Marque site there were basically two pubs at the Camden Town tube station end of Camden High Street, and two pubs at the Mornington Crescent end. Mmmmm………Mornington Crescent……..mmmmm……little bells were beginning to ring and that wasn’t just down to Aussie Pete’s incessantly ringing phone!

Mornington Crescent - Note Michael taking the panoramic picture. Note BGC getting wet.

 

Fans of the Radio 4 show “I’m Sorry I haven’t a clue” will know the game of “Mornington Crescent” that the panel plays. I’m not going to claim I’m familiar with the rules (in fact isn’t that the “joke” about it all, that no-one really knows the rules? Is that a joke? Is it funny?) but the main point is that on the 24^th of June 2002 Tim Brooke-Taylor said “……Community Chest. “Go to Mornington Crescent”. And the audience cheered. Look here’s the proof!

Tenuous? Feeble? Weak? You betcha! But that’s a good as it’s going to get, and anyway the boys were happy with the link and also it’s my bloody Monopoly Game so I guess I can do what I like!

Because of some weekend work we’d had to schedule the tour for a Thursday night but this also clashed with a meeting of company “old boys” which meant that Charlie, Buddy Rob and other potential attendees would not be able to make it. So it was left to the “new boys” of New-Boy Aussie Pete, New-Boy Spiky haired Ed, New-Boy No-Nickname Michael, and New-Boy New guy Mickey and New-Boy BGC to keep the tour on its weekly schedule.

Another thing which seems to be scheduled weekly is the appalling weather as it was teaming down with rain again which made the posing for the snap outside of Mornington Crescent interesting especially when No-Nickname Michael tried to take a panoramic shot which seemed to take an age. Luckily the first pub, The Lyttelton Arms (Lyttelton……Humphrey Lyttelton…….I’m Sorry I haven’t a clue……..this isn’t all done by accident you know!) was just across from the station so we weren’t in a too bad a wet and soggy state when we entered.  The Lyttelton is a smart and trendy place with a vast open plan bar, lots of high tables and stools and sofas and arm chairs by the windows. The beer selection was similarly very smart with 3 real ales and a vast array of interesting and not so common stuff on keg. Erdinger Weissbier seemed like a likely place to start and the other four were more than happy to take part in this classic brew. The barman slightly struggled to get 5 pints poured and it didn’t look quite right in plain pint pots rather than proper glasses but the taste was spot on.

“So what should be the correct glass?” asked Spiky haired Ed as he pouted in a sultry manner. “Well, sort of tall with a bulbous end” I replied only for No-Nickname Michael to chip in with perfect comic timing, “and what did the doctor say to that?” – It doesn’t quite work on paper but we’re more than willing to travel and act it out if you like.

Aussie Pete had asked the punky red-haired barmaid with a bumble bee skirt that was also doubling as a belt where the certificate was and she disappeared “to the office” only to return moments later saying the boss didn’t know where it was. So it would be photo time and a call on Trevor’s good nature to prove the visit. Unfortunately as the nights are closing in it was already too dark to take an outside photo, so I was forced to pose with Spiky haired Ed and a Lyttelton Arms menu. If you’re wondering what I’m doing, it’s my attempt at a sultry pout.

This reminds me of Brucie's Dolly Dealers from Play Your Cards Right

 

So with a belly full of Erdinger we ventured back out into the rain to find the next pub, the colloquially named Edinboro Castle. Now I was looking forward to this visit as when planning the pubs and the route I always try to tweet the pubs that do Twitter to say that we’re visiting that evening. Well the Edinboro Castle had re-tweeted my tweet so I was fully expecting a brass band fanfare as we entered or perhaps everyone hiding behind the furniture with only whispers of “they’re here, they’re here!”

But first things first, we needed to find the place. I’m afraid the Cask Finder app was a little misleading here as it had the pub right down by Morning Crescent whereas in fact the pub is located on Mornington Terrace which is much further up near to Regents Park. I’m sure Alastair will sort that out though.

 

Anyway, we eventually did find the place although a huge cloudburst drenched us just as we were getting near the door. Well there were no brass bands and the evening crowd certainly weren’t hiding as we had to push our way through the crush to the bar. Again this place was very similar to the Lyttelton Arms; open plan, funky and trendy and a vast range of beer both on cask and on keg. I stuck a pin the array of taps and picked out Bernard Dark, a black lager from the Czech Republic. This was amazing stuff; strong but sweet and a taste of liquorice and boiled sweets. The other thing was, if you licked your lips after drinking you got a secondary taste all over again – two for your money almost. We asked the blonde “girl next door” barmaid if the certificate was around but again drew a blank as they couldn’t locate it – disappointing, you’d have thought they would have had it framed in gold seeing as they knew we were coming!

Next we're going to start collecting menus

 

So there we were just hanging and drinking (trying to look funky and trendy) when I did a double-take at who had just walked through the door. No, not someone famous but someone I hadn’t seen since 1998. Well, not exactly true as we had met earlier in the year at a reunion, but it was still a bit of a shock to see former army colleague and the best looking Sgt Major in the world Lovely Heike looking straight back at me. With cries of “what the heck are you doing here!” we fell into each others arms – which was a very cool thing to do as it looked to the boys as if I’d just pulled a stunner in 5 seconds!

Ah......Lovely Heike.

 

Unfortunately the Monopoly Tour can’t be derailed even for beautiful squaddies so it was with a slight feeling of regret that we said goodbye to Lovely Heike and marched on towards the next pub. The next pub was The Earl ofCamden, down in Parkway towards Camden Town tube station. Are all pubs in Camden open plan trendy hang-outs? Well certainly the Earl was another one but at least this time they had the certificate on display, screwed to the wall behind the bar. As the barman was pouring the 4 pints of Crazy Ox from Oxfordshire Ales and the 1 pint of Cobra for Spiky haired Ed we asked whether we could get a scan. He didn’t seem impressed by my suggestion that he let us behind the bar to scan it, but he was happy enough to take Pete and my phones to do the scan.

We were just settling down to the drinks when another barman came over, “Don’t stand by the bar please.” He said shooing us away. Eh? Why not, the place wasn’t packed and we weren’t blocking the way for anyone, but like good little boys we moved off only to find all the tables were taken so were left to stand by the emergency exit. Surely much more a problem than standing by the bar…………………..

One swift pint later we were stood outside the pub trying to ensure we were on the right track to the final pub when who should walk past but the blonde “girl next door” barmaid from the Edinboro Castle. Well if anyone was going to know where the pub was, surely she would. And sure enough she did, so in only a couple of moments we were back on Camden High Street and entering the Bucks Head.

Old Brewery sign outside the Bucks Head

 

So, are all pubs in Camden open plan trendy hang-outs? Well no, because the Bucks Head isn’t like that at all, much more traditional, slightly scruffy, dodgy looking clientele and certainly no laws about not standing and drinking at the bar. The exotic barmaids were also more than happy that we could stand slightly behind the bar to get the scan. “What’s that you’re up to” asked the gap toothed Irish fellow perched on a stool at the end of the bar. “Oh, collecting scans” I answered “you get a free T-Shirt.” I added. “Oh, T-Shirts is it” he sagely nodded “I do them for all the shops round here, Tommy Hilfiger, Calvin Klein, Armani, I do them all.”

Leaving Camden’s answer to both Marks and Spencer before he could offer me knock-off after shave and designer handbags, I surveyed the selection of beers and even though the Bucks Head didn’t look as trendy as the others we’d been in this night it still had a vast selection of beers with some really uncommon ones there. I saw the tap for Krombacher and presumed it was their Pils but it turned out to be their Weizen, which was a lovely surprise!

The evening started to spin as pints of Grolsch Blond and Brains IPA were swiftly quaffed and then someone had the bright idea of some shorts. I vaguely remember being presented with a shot of Jägermeister whilst the boys all had Jäger-Bombs, but the main talking point seemed more focused around the can of Red Bull Blueberry which we all approached like cavemen to a fire. “You never seen that flavour before?” piped up a voice from the next table, “we’ve had it for ages.”

Well that’s because the owner of the voice turned out to be a young IT engineer from Austria, which as everyone knows, is the home of Red Bull. “Austria?” squeaked Aussie Pete “I’m from Austria as well!” but Aussie Pete’s geographical idiocies aside we soon made pub-friends with the Austrian and his Spanish colleague – (Yes, I’ve forgotten their names, well that’s if we ever asked them anyway) – who were over for an IT course and returning to Austria tomorrow.

But all good things have to come to an end as I noticed that it was time for me to leave if I was going to give myself a fighting chance of getting a train before the last one home. So whilst the boys all trooped out of the pub and across the road to KFC, I trooped off to Camden Town Tube and some awful timing on my half which saw me indeed have to settle for the last train home!

Imagine how proud of the boys I was this morning when during the night-out post-mortem I discovered that after visiting KFC they’d all gone back in the pub for whisky nightcaps!

Fall Out!

This was after KFC apparently. Mickey, Michael and Ed surround our new friends from Austria and Spain. Aussie Pete has left for Vienna.

 

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited = 95 (Goodness, I’m getting close!)

Things to remember = Don’t forget your key.

The next challenge = We’ve had the re-tweet, now we’ve got to get a pub to recognise us.

Next Stop = Marlborough Street

Bow Street

Before we begin this week’s documented evidence of debauchery there’s some hot beer news that needs to be reported.

Firstly the wonderful and lovely Melissa Cole dived into the depths of Staffordshire and came back bearing the delightful gift of this very stylish Freedom Brewery mug.

 

All I had to do was pick it up from the elegant Rake in nearby Borough Market. Seeing as I would drag my burning body across a freshly tarmacked road studded with sharpened lollipop sticks for a beer glass, I was only too happy to comply. So it’s a big thumbs up and thanks to Melissa and I encourage everyone to visit her site. I am soooooooo in love with this woman!

Secondly, last Friday, the 28^th of September saw the beginning of Cask Ale Week, the annual celebration of all things Casky and Aley. Best of all it was possible to download a voucher for a free pint and take this at a Cask Marque pub. So last Friday the usual gang all trooped into the Bridge Lounge and ordered 5 pints for the princely price of £0.00 – You do the math! When I say the usual gang, that was sort of true as Charlie and New-Guy Mickey were more than happy to tag along, but we were also joined by Big-J and Peachy for their first smell of the sort of things we get up to.

The other thing that came along with Cask Ale Week was an email from the lovely people at Cask Marque saying that anyone who achieves 12 new scans during Cask Ale Week will receive a special limited T-shirt. Well slap me round the face and call me Betty! That’s speaking my language. By the end of the weekend I was already up to 3 new scans and all week Aussie Pete and I have been venturing for a swift lunchtime visit to gather more scans, which means my total has exploded. Thanks must also be given to Trevor at Cask marque who has faithfully been processing our visits when for one reason or another we didn’t get the scan. So Trevor, this one’s dedicated to you even if you did call me Del Boy!

Anyway, onto this week………………..as mentioned in last week’s communiqué we were off to Bow Street and with its proximity to Covent Garden there was a real hoard of willing volunteers who wanted to climb aboard the good ship Monopoly. I’d planned out a visit to 4 pubs that circle Bow Street but I was also very aware that the sights, sounds and attractions of Covent Garden may easily lead us off track and into areas we would need to “save” for other visits. Leicester Square and The Strand leapt to mind (second fright for The Strand!)

A very arty shot of BGC in Bow Street

 

Alas though, as the time to leave approached people started dropping out of the tour for the most flimsy of reasons! New Guy Mickey was off to the theatre (Drury Lane in fact, i.e. right next door to where we were going to be) The Chief had visitors apparently, Big-J can’t do Fridays only Thursdays and even though Peachy had come to work in his disco shirt he claimed an achilles injury which ruled him out. Even the delectable Mags had gone AWOL! We’d also lost Charlie to a late afternoon meeting but he did reappear in the nick of time and promptly told us about the restaurant he was just in with one of our suppliers, eating weird and wonderful meats (Orang-utan, Armadillo and Kiwi I believe) and drinking absinth from a bottle with a snake inside! He then changed the order of the pubs saying that Sybil and the supplier guy would meet us at the Punch and Judy.

The weather was atrocious and in a constant rain and without a single umbrella between us, a very bedraggled 6 of us (Aussie Pete, Spiky haired Ed, Buddy Rob, No-Nickname Michael & Charlie) made it to the tourist trap that is Covent Garden, but not before I had my Bow Street photo taken for posterity.

The Punch and Judy will be a well known pub to anyone who has visited Covent Garden. It sits at one end of the market building and has the balcony where you can watch the street performers doing their acts below. That’s not to say you still might not find it though as we discovered when we entered the door by the pub sign but found ourselves in Moominland instead.

A very arty shot of BGC about to enter the Punch and Judy

 

The Punch and Judy is another Taylor Walker run pub and comprises of two bars, one upstairs by the balcony and one in the basement. We tried the upstairs bar initially but the bar was so crowded and again so bloody noisy that we scurried down to the basement bar as quick as flash. I’d also noted that upstairs there wasn’t a single cask beer on sale; it was all bottles and keg. Downstairs there was the huge choice of one single beer, Ginger Bear from the aptly named Beartown Brewery. As I checked the beer in on the Untappd site I commented, “Great Beer, Vile Pub” – why vile I hear you ask? Obviously you don’t go to Covent Garden and expect to find it empty, but I wasn’t prepared for the hordes of tourists and crowds of office workers that had also decided to spend a Friday evening there. So the Punch and Judy obviously doesn’t have to look very hard or do much to attract their drinking footfall so why of earth at one of the most tourist trapping pubs, in the capital of Great Britain are they only selling one British Beer? And not only just one beer, but a very un-regular beer at that, I mean wean the uninitiated in on something standard like London Pride, don’t give them ginger flavoured beer as a start point! As we perched outside, trying our best to escape the crush, I noted a table full of Italians sit down next to us, they all ordered Stella Artois……………how sad that when not in Rome they’d chosen to do what every non-thinking drinker does, and how sad that this pub doesn’t seem to want to invest in promoting and trying to change these closed minds. On a positive note, the barman was good enough to hold the Cask Marque certificate for us to scan from its position behind the bar, but that’s about the only good point I can think of.

We were just finishing the drinks and were planning to make our way to what should have been the first pub on the list, the Lamb and Flag in Rose Street when who should appear but Sybil and the supplier guy. By the looks of it the one absinthe had turned into a vat of absinthe and both of them had been swimming in the stuff. Sybil at least was putting on an act of trying to look sober but the supplier guy was rocking and reeling all over the shop in a quite frightening fashion.

Anyway off we went to Rose Street and needless to say the journey which couldn’t have been more than 200 metres saw us all get split up and lost. I found myself with Buddy Rob trying to use the Cask Finder app to locate the pub when we heard a voice from behind us cry out “Where you going then, are you lost?” It was a shabbily dressed guy with a goatee and a t-shirt that announced him as “Direction Guy “ – “We’re trying to get to Rose Street” I told him. “Oh yeah, the Lamb and Flag” he replied with an amazing sixth sense of what we were going to do when we got there. “Follow me!” he yelled and strode off. “5, 4, 3, 2, 1 – there, Rose Street!” he yelled and by George, he was right. I dipped in my pocket and handed him a slack load of change for his troubles. “Another bloody pound” he muttered “I’ve just had one of those” and grumbling he disappeared. It turned out the “other one of those” he’d got was from Charlie who’d also taken advantage of Direction Guy’s services just moments before hand.

As we also slowly gathered together again we realised we’d lost two soldiers in action. No-Nickname Michael had sloped off perhaps trying to avoid what was looking like a soon to be messy evening and Sybil had also ran off for the hills. The supplier guy was still there, physically at least but perhaps not in spirit. He’d also gained a Chairman Mao type peaked cap which was explained by Charlie who told us he’d taken a rough tumble on the way to the pub and had cut his head open!

The pub, and a lovely traditional boozer at that, was another superb Fuller’s place and Buddy Rob had secured me a pint of Red Fox and himself a bottle of proper Budvar Budweiser (“Wow, Rob, back onto the proper Bud?” asked Charlie “Are you enjoying it?” – “No” was the answer) before fleeing the crowded bar and leaving Spiky haired Ed to get the rest of the round.

A very suprised looking Charlie. Note Buddy Rob's proper Bud in hand.

 

Still raining all the people who would normally be stood outside had come inside leaving us crouching beneath the last corner of the outside awning. There wasn’t a chance of getting the scan in such a melee although I did manage to ask a barman about “Cask Marque, mate, you know the thing for your beers!” but from his reaction I could have just asked him if he wanted to go for a rumba in the cellar. So Aussie Pete made me pose in the rain for a photo to prove to Trevor that we did visit and add the scan from Cask Marque HQ.

Look Trevor, we were there honest!

 

It was at this point that we lost the supplier guy…………..last seen weaving down towards Charring Cross. I wonder if he made it home?

The next pub on the list was The White Lion in Floral Street, so it was back through the rain soaked streets of Covent Garden and the welcoming lights of this Nicholsons Pub. It was certainly a very smart place and the pint of Brain’s Jack Black Oatmeal Stout was superb although the barmaid, who must have only just started working there, trying to pass it off with the biggest head I’ve ever seen on a pint. Luckily there was a colleague on hand to help out and thinking that this guy might know a thing or two about beers Aussie Pete asked where the certificate was. Again we were met with blank looks as if we were talking Chinese. He asked the manager for us whose reaction was unexpected to say the least. He whirled around looking as if we’d just taken a dump on his floor and demanded to know how long we were going to be in the pub. Eh, what on earth has that got to do with it? He then said it was in the office and he’d go and get it in a minute but his whole attitude was one of real irritation that a customer had asked for something. He then went to the end of the bar and proceeded to have a conversation with a couple of guys completely ignoring us. When I approached again to remind him, he disappeared and was instantly “too busy” to help. I can only say what an absolutely disappointing way to treat paying customers and this little rubbish Phil Mitchell lookalike should really think about how he wants to be thought of. The word I have at the moment is “belligerent” and I’ll be telling the folks at Nicholsons exactly that.

Spiky haired Ed and BGC wonder why the White Lion bothers with Cask Marque

 

So with another non-scan (Oh Trevor……..?) and Charlie scarpering complete with new brolly to the cinema, it was just the four of use who crossed over into Drury Lane and into the Prince of Wales. This is another Taylor Walker pub and was actually quite quiet for its location and Taylor Walkers fondness for blaring music. They also had a much better beer range…….take note Mr Punch and Mrs Judy. I ordered a pint of Twaites Crafty Devil and asked the barmaid if she knew where the certificate was.

Now do you know that character from Family Guy, Consuela  the Latino maid who always answers “no” in the most lackadaisical fashion? Well it was like having a conversation with her! We finally established that the certificate was in the office because there was something wrong with it but there was no way she was going to get it for us.

“Oh, come on, we only need it for the scan”

“………………………………………..no.”

“Please, we’d be really chuffed.”

“………………………………………..no.”

“But we’re on a mission and Aussie Pete needs it for his T-Shirt”

“………………………………………..no.”

And on and on it went like this. Aussie Pete then asked the manageress herself who told a slightly different story in that it was in the office but it would take at least two days to find it. Why aren’t these places proud of these awards? If I was running one, I’d have it framed and up where everyone could see, if fact I’d direct them to it even if they weren’t scanning.

So I’m afraid Trevor, for the third time tonight, it’s over to you……………”

Aussie Pete was now desperate for this final Cask Ale Week scan so although we’d done all the four planned pubs, we decided to make our way further east to Great Queen Street and the fantastically named HerculesPillars. Waiting inside as if he knew we were coming was a huge smiling barman who seemed delighted to serve us. Aussie Pete almost yelped with excitement as he saw the certificate (framed and where everyone could see) behind the bar. The barman jokingly tried to prise it off the wall but it was fixed firmly there, but he was only too happy to take phones from Aussie Pete, Spiky haired Ed and myself to get the scans. One pint of absolutely delectable Sambrook’sPowerhouse Porter later and I was falling in love with this place. Aussie Pete was starving by now and suggested we eat, I was only too happy to comply and we took the barman’s (who we now knew as Joseph) advice and plumped for a very non-paleo spaghetti carbonara.

Aussie Pete scores the beer 72?

 

I then noted that the Young’s Bitter (I think?) had run out so what did the pub do? They placed a little sign on the tap which read that it needed changing and that there would be a light delay whilst the lines were cleaned……………I mean how much better could this place get? Well to answer that, all it took was a pint of Truman’s Swallow and Swift served in a traditional pint jug. We then played a game of “guess the nationality” with the barmaids, who thankfully seemed happy enough to play along with us 4 slurring idiots before I rounded off the visit by treating everyone to a bottle of Orval, explaining to Spiky haired Ed how each and every grain was blessed by monks (shhh, don’t tell him otherwise. It would be like telling a 5 year old Father Xmas doesn’t exist).

BGC and Aussie Pete toast Joseph. Joseph gives the tour the thumbs up!

 

Aussie Pete had let slip to our new best friend Joseph that I was blogging about our visits and he pressed upon me his business card, wanting to know where he could find the blog. Well I’m afraid Joseph that no sooner had we left the pub but I lost the card. I don’t know where it went, but all I know is by the time we reached the nearby Shakespeares Head I’d lost it. I hope the mail I sent you does reach you and all I can say is we truly enjoyed the visit and promise to be back at some point. Maybe to present you with a best pub on the Monopoly Tour award because anywhere else we go will have to do a heck of a lot of work to beat your performance tonight!

So as previously mentioned we staggered in the style of four supplier guys over to the Shakespeares Head which we nearly missed as the frontage was covered in scaffolding. This was a large open plan Weatherspoons but the certificate was easily found and the pint of the self-brewed EdwinTaylor’s Extra Stout was on the mark as well. I’m not sure how it all happened but the final thing I remember was grabbing hold of some poor innocent young Korean chap and forcing him to do the Gangnam Style dance with me. For an even more unfathomable reason he seemed only to happy to join in, although this could have simply been fear of course in case this crowd of mad crazy middle aged oldies (not you Ed) turned really deranged.

You will dance when ordered to! Note Cask Marque certificate in back ground!

 

But that said it was probably a very apt way to end what has to be the most mad crazy visit of the tour so far. Cheers to all those lovely people who made it so memorable! Now where’s Trevor’s email address…………………….

I have no idea who took this for us.

 

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited = 87

Got a Cask Marque Certificate? = Then put it up!

Got an attitude problem with your customers? = Then go and do a non-customer facing job. Shepherd perhaps?

Next Stop = Community Chest #2