Fenchurch Street Station

“It’s Christmas time and there really is no need to feel afraid.” Well, speaking personally Paul, if I was to ever wake up and find you whispering those words into my ears I’d bloody well shit myself……..but that unlikely scenario aside, that introduction is just meant to inform readers (still hopeful that I can use that noun in the plural) that this will be the last posting before we stuff our faces with turkey whilst wearing paper hats.

Again in an amazing piece of planning, the square on this festive week is Fenchurch Street station, which if you’ve noted that Vine Street was the nearest square to our offices then you’ll know that this is the second nearest square. An ideal opportunity to rally the troops and force all the previous excuse-mongers and tour-dodgers out on the street.

 

Fenchurch Street Station - One of the prettier London Stations.

 

In reality what happened was illness claimed Aussie Pete, early Xmas holidays claimed Buddy Rob and most of the other fair-weather tourists cried off for one reason or another. Still, we had the welcome return of No-Nickname Michael after his dry month of November had ended, New Guy Micky had come back from the wilderness of working from home and tour regulars Charlie and Spiky Haired Ed can always be relied on. We also had the surprising appearance of Big-J, who apart from a fleeting appearance during Cask Ale week in a non-tour venue had avoid the tour so far, quoting excuses ranging from guitar practice, family taxi duties, bicycle repairs, filing claims against other road users and writing the 10^th volume of M&S memoirs (I understand the working title is “Mark, Spencer and I”).

 

Talking about Spiky Haired Ed (well sort of) I haven’t heard anything back from Debbie and her cut and keep Spiky  Haired Ed but in other blog news I did stumble across another pub review blog site thanks to a tweet from Beery Nate – It would seem that the mysterious Pubman79 has visited several pubs that we’ve also took in as part of the tour and it’s interesting to see his opinions compared to mine. But imagine my surprise when on his review of The Blue Posts (we did this for Pall Mall) the cheeky beggar had gone and used my photo! Not that I’m particularly bothered and if someone else has decided that my awful quality snaps are good enough to borrow then I’ll take it as a compliment!  

 

No-nickname Michael and a blurry New Guy Micky do their Flanagan and Allen impression - "Underneath the arches....." - Just ask your gran.

Anyway, onto the tour. Much in the same way as when we did Vine Street, it was but a short stroll past Tower Hill tube station and into Crutched Friars and the first pub, Cheshire Cheese. I promised this one when we visited a similarly named pub during Strand, not that I’ve found out in the meantime why this seems to be an not uncommon pub name whereas there doesn’t seem to be anywhere called The Wensleydale. This Cheshire Cheese is tucked beneath the arches that the tracks from Fenchurch Street Station run from and is owned by the Stonegate pub company, who I have to admit I’ve never heard of before (we have previously visited one of their pubs, The Earl of Camden) but they’re the company behind chains like Yate’s and Slug and Lettuce. The Cheshire Cheese is part of their “Great Traditional Pubs” brand and the pub is certainly traditional in the sense that it has a bit of an eighties feel about it. Dark red wallpaper (flocked?), patterned carpets and large hanging chandeliers. The beer range was a bit limited, nice to see 5 handpumps but all had fairly regular ales on, Pedigree, Hobgoblin, London Pride etc. I plumped for Shepherd Neame’s Spitfire with Big-J and Charlie following my lead whilst the other three went for Krombacher – which came in very nice branded and fluted glasses.

 

It looked more 80's in real life

 

Even though it was only a Tuesday I think a lot of workers had decided to celebrate the lead up to Xmas as the place was quite full with a raucous crowd, which wasn’t helped by the loud music being unnecessarily pumped over it all. We also had several big screen TVs playing footie repeats (at least the sound was off) which no-one was watching.

 

On the plus side the Cask Marque certificate was easily found, pinned on the wall just above the sink behind the bar, but accessible to lean over and scan. One drink saw us through though and we made our way further along Crutched Friars to the aptly named Crutched Friar. But before we discuss this pub, let’s have a quick history lesson. The name Crutched Friars comes from a religious order so named because of the staff the monks carried. There will be a test on this later………………. 

The Crutched Friar (the pub) is another from the Stonegate stable but this time from their Classic Inn brand. It certainly has a more up to date feel than the Cheshire Cheese and seemed to attract a plethora of “suits” as again the pub was heaving. I seemed to wait an age to get served but to their credit there were hundreds of barmaids and as soon as I was actually being served they all seemed to want to ask what I wanted. The one that did serve me failed to get three pints from the barrel of Black Sheep Bitter so Big-J and No-nickname Michael actually got pints of Cocker Hoop (they didn’t know this on the night) but the other three got their desires of Meantime Pale Ale, Cobra and Grolsh (no prizes for matching the beer to the drinker) 

 

BGC and Big-J - I am the crutch to his friar.

Again to Stonegate’s credit the certificate was hanging nicely available on the wall but as I was scanning I noted that there was a duplicate certificate opposite it. It turns out one certificate was running out at the end of December and the one for next year was already hanging up. Charlie tried to scan them both but Cask Finder is wise to this trick! 

Again it was a rather hurried drink and another hurry along the street, turning right into New London Street and the Windor, which ducks beneath Fenchurch Street Station itself. Amazingly again this was another Stonegate pub (they must save on delivery costs to these three) but we were back to the Great Traditional Pub brand now. It’s a compact little place not helped by the fact that half the pub was cordoned off for a poker evening. Unfortunately the framed and hung certificate was in the cordoned off area but that didn’t stop Ed and me sneaking in for a sneaky scan.

 

At the Windsor, not! Geddit, Windsor Knot.....Oh please yourselves

It was another different ale for the ale drinkers, this time being Adnams’s festive offering of Shingle Shells although No-nickname Michael and New Guy Micky went for a different Admans offering of Ghost Ship.  

We started to take casualties on the night now. Charlie had to leave for a family gathering whilst New Guy Micky had to scoot off to the late night Marks and Spencer to buy a dinner jacket for this Thursday’s Xmas Party. No-nickname Michael was getting a taste for the demon sauce again and persuaded us to take in one more pub. Just around the corner from the station is the Shepherd Neame pub of the East India Arms – the last remnants of the East India Company whose offices used to stand in the area. 

 

If Ed had taken the photo properly you might have been able to read the history here.

After the crush of the other pubs we elected to stand outside keeping ourselves warm with pints of Late Red (Oranjeboom for Ed and diet coke for Big-J)  and after the rather identikit fittings of the first three pubs the unique and charming character of the East India Arms was quite lovely. On return from the toilets I asked the barman what the interesting looking bottles in the fridge were. The answer was a 5% Double Stout, a 7% Christmas Ale and a 9% IPA. I volunteered to start No-nickname Michael and myself off on the Double Stout whilst Ed changed to Asahi. Big-J knowing that a wobbly bike ride home was still to come sensibly stuck to the coke.  

The Double Stout was gorgeous and when asking for the Christmas Ale I even got the choice as to whether I wanted a chilled one or a room temperature one. I went for room temperature which was a good idea initially but as the pint went on it did get quite heavy and claggy.  

Although I would have been most interested to see what the IPA tasted like, I think at 9% it would have landed me in the same position as the previous square so good sense won over and I decided it was time to leave – a short stagger down Fenchurch Street to Aldgate Station and a journey round to Paddington muttering to myself on the tube. At least this way you always get a seat. 

The final funny to report is when ordering some sustenance from the buffet car on the train I asked for “something with bacon” – The host turned a puzzled look on me and replied “something with pain killers?” – Well she did have a point! 

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited  = 133 – I do declare the first visit where every pub had the certificate available!

 

Why are the Crutched Friars so called? = Please provide your answer in the form of a 200 word essay.

 

Will there be ale at the office Xmas Party on Thursday? = BGC reckons "no" and that means he'll have to winge and moan, boring the tits off those around him as he decrys how come no-one in Britain seems to respect the British brewing industry.

 

Next Stop = Leicester Square

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

Whitechapel Road

You may have gathered from the last entry that I was determined not to repeat last Friday’s “Jonny-no-mates” routine again, so in a desperate effort not to appear to be a social pariah I asked a group of work colleagues whether they would like a “swift one” after work this Friday. Luckily the next square on the board, Whitechapel Road is only a brisk 10 minute walk away from our offices and as such I wouldn’t need to put this gallant gang of volunteers through a forced march to get to the pub.

Quick word about the Whitechapel Road in that it houses the infamous Blind Beggar pub which most Monopoly tourists use as their stop for this square. Unfortunately not a Cask Marque pub this didn’t fit my criteria but it worth mentioning this place not only for its links to the Krays but also as the place that William Booth made his first sermon, which led to the creation of the Salvation Army. And if you want one more interesting beer related fact, it’s also the former brewery tap of the Manns Albion Brewery where the first modern Brown Ale was brewed. Now you too can be a pub bore……………………

The nearest Cask Marque pub is the Aldgate Exchange just 50 or so metres down from Aldgate East tube station. I’d previously been in this place and been unable to find the Cask Marque certificate so I thought it might be a prudent step to visit somewhere else on the way.

The Brown Bear

My selection was The Brown Bear in nearby Leman Street which caused one work colleague to squeal with both delight as this is apparently one of her favourite pubs and then groan in agony as she couldn’t join us due to other commitments. So it was with somewhat of a spring in our collective steps that 5 of us entered the pub on an early Friday evening. The pub is a traditional centre bar affair with nice wooden shelving atop which stands the proud statue of the Brown Bear. Beers on offer were Fuller’s London Pride, the ubiquitous Sharp’s Doombar and Marston’s EPA. Only the Pride and the Doombar had the Cask Marque tag on the handpumps which perhaps should have given me a clue as the EPA was rather warm and woolly (and also served in an Adnams Glass (Grrrrrrr)).

BGC at the bar of the Brown Bear

With the pub just starting to fill up and Andy Murray just losing the 3^rd set in his semi-final, like a bunch of wannabe tabloid reporters, 3 of my colleague all made their excuses and left, citing “busy days tomorrow” and “friends coming round tonight”………………….lightweights to a man!

This left me with spiky haired Ed.

Spiky haired Ed is a curious creature, presenting the attractive face of IT with his chiselled jaw, fresh complexion and gymnasts physique he’s very much the eye candy for the office girls. Where as I present the slobbish side of IT with my stupid fat face, binman’s physic and most of the office girls having exclusion orders against me so I don’t get within 5 feet of them.

Anyway, as a modern day “odd couple” we strolled up to the junction of Aldgate High Street and Commercial Street and took a swift jaunt up the Whitechapel Road to record the visit for posterity.

Well at least you can read this sign!

It was then back to the Aldgate Exchange for a rather nasty pint of Adnams Southwold bitter (not served in an Adnams glass (Grrrrrrrrr)). I had always presumed that this place was another Weatherspoon’s pub (based on the style of the outside signage) but it turns out it isn’t. I’m not sure if it is a Free House as they claim but it’s another open plan pine floored warehouse with not a great deal going for it. The staff were friendly and the manager was more than happy to fetch out the Cask Marque certificate which wasn’t on the wall. “How did you like the beer?” he asked as I scanned the code. I went all English and didn’t want to make a fuss, “Oh, very nice” I lied.

One (fat) man, a man-bag and a sign in misleading typeface.

Spiky haired Ed and I were now on a roll, putting the office to rights and deciding who was probably overpaid (everyone else) and who were underpaid (spiky haired Ed and me) so we decided to continue the journey across the road at The Hoop and Grapes, a Nicholson’s pub where apparently the Great Fire of London stopped just 50 yards away. The best pint of the evening was the 4.2% Merlin’s Ale and it was only a pity the visit to this very nice pub was spoilt by them not being in possession of the new style Cask Marque certificate with the QR Code.

Handpumps at the Hoop and Grapes

Before things started to become maudlin Spiky haired Ed and I called it a day and bidded each other a good night. Him, back to his boy-band lifestyle of hair gel and pegged jeans and me to onion rings on Reading station. Cheers!

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited  = 37

Target for the visit = Successful!

Things I know now that I didn’t know before this visit = According to Spiky haired Ed, I have the best voice in the office? (Should this make me worried?)

Next Stop = Income Tax!