Intermission

Perhaps we were all a bit too jaded from last week. Perhaps it was the fact that we weren’t getting paid until the middle of this week. Perhaps the boys are just getting sick of me, but whatever the reason I just couldn’t raise a single man-jack of them to go out this week. Aussie Pete quoted a poorly tummy (Awwwwe poor Petey. Mummy rub his little tummy better? Take some nasty medicine for the poorly tum-tum. Where’s the smile for Mummy’s brave Petey? Where’s the smile? There it is! There it is!) and Spikey haired Ed had gone on holiday without a by your leave or an invitation.

But, the boys had also expressed a wish that the next street, Bow Street was one they really wanted to do as its proximity to Covent Garden dangled the carrot of enticement of some superb pubs, so to do this square single-handed would be as welcome as the proverbial fart in a crash helmet (or something like that).

So what was a lonely boy to do? And then it hit me, inspiration of the highest order, I’d use this week to re-tread some steps and re-visit a couple of places I needed to go back to. First on the list was the Masons Arms which I’d previously covered in Electric Company. As regular readers will know I’d sent an email off to Fuller’s about my visit and to cut a long story short it had culminated in a very nice phone call from the Masons manager, Matt, and a £20 voucher to come and visit again. So I did!

Firstly I took Matt’s advice that he’d given on the phone and to take the over-ground train from Victoria to Battersea Park rather than do what I did last time and walk the ½ mile or so along the Thames from Vauxhall to Battersea. He did say the pub was directly outside the train station and he couldn’t have been more right as a quick jog across the road and I was back in the Masons again.

I slipped in not quite knowing whether I’d get a welcome or not only to be greeted by a friendly, bearded and handsome face. Would it be possible to nip to the look before I order I asked, “yeah, no probs” came the reply in a strikingly familiar antipodean accent. This must be Matt, I though as I had a wee to the soundtrack of one of Billy Connolly’s concerts (it’s true, go there and visit the loos, it’s true I tell you!) Re-emerging to the bar I asked the friendly face if he was indeed Matt? No, he wasn’t, he was Sam and Matt was out on business but Sam knew who I was! “Oh yeah, Matt said you might be in, how’s the Monopoly Tour going?” he asked. This was like being famous but without the paparazzi and the constant fear of violence, but almost just as thrilling.

I ordered a steak (no chips – paleo is still king at the moment) and a pint of Fuller’s Wild River. Now I’d had this beer before in the Doric Arch and had only scored it a 3 on untappd, but Sam not only served it splendidly but he also filled me in the history of how Fuller’s came to brew an American IPA. It was perfect. I had no choice. I had to score it a 5, my first ever.

The steak was similarly splendid and the service was as brilliant as it had been the first time round. I suppose I better get the scan whilst I’m here I asked Sam as he brought the steak over. “Yeppers (he didn’t really say yeppers, but in my mind he did) certificate is over by the door.” And there it was. Scan in the bag and nothing more for me to do than to quickly swill down a pint of London Pride (top notch condition) profusely thank Sam and nip across the road again for the next train back to Victoria.

As I took a photo of the power station from the train (someone was flying an angry birds pig balloon in front of it) I was just left wondering whether the pub was actually worth complaining about first time round or am I just a miserable git who’s never happy?

Can you see the green pig floating in front of the power station?

 

But that feeling didn’t last for long, especially on the tube to Kings Cross as I had that lovely feeling of being just that little bit squiffy whilst all around me were still hustling home from work. Quick as a flash I was back in front of Platform 9 ¾ (yes, still just adults taking the photos) and up the stairs to Fuller’s newly opened Parcel Yard. Again regular reader will remember I visited this pub during the Pentonville Road visit but the Cask Marque certificate wasn’t available.

First thing that struck me was that the pub was extremely busy but also it was hosting the Cask Report 2012, the annual report into how Cask Beer is faring in the wider world of the drinks markets. Unfortunately although I could peer into the private room where they were holding the report I couldn’t see anyone famous in the world of beer, although a lady with a name badge did hold the door to the toilets open for me…………….

Service was still lightening quick at the bar and one lovely pint of Fuller’s Autumn Ale, Red Fox later I had the scan in the bag (certificate at the end of the bar) and could scurry my way back to Paddington.

There was one more story to tell; as I was on the Circle Line a chap got on at Euston Square and was taking photos of himself with his mobile phone. Thinking he was a tourist trying to capture a picture of “here’s me on the underground”. I tapped him on the shoulder to ask if he’d like me to take his picture. He was more than happy to pose but then turned the camera around and took a photo of both me and him. He then took various shots around the carriage, especially of sleeping people.

Turns out he was a Brazilian artist called Helio Teles (you can find his website here) and I introduced myself in return only for another chap in the carriage to comment “ho ho, I wish I was rich too” and before you knew it there were about 6 of us exchanging smiles and comments. “Shhhh everyone” I said, “don’t you know you’re not allowed to speak on the Tube!”

It was a fitting end to possibly the friendliest night out on the Monopoly Tour – I must leave the boys behind more often!

Marylebone Station

I ended the last missive wondering if my Cask Marque Ale Trail score would be 64 or 65. Well I’m delighted to tell you that at the start of tonight’s episode it was in fact 66! A quick old email to info@cask-marque.co.uk got the Harp, which I was unable to scan in last week’s visit, and another pub local to me (not displaying the certificate! Tut Tut!) added to the grand total. So again it’s big massive Top Hats off to Cask Marque.

I had presumed that tonight’s visit would be a low key affair as Marylebone station is quite a way away from the stomping ground we’ve been stomping around lately. But lo and behold the lure of another evening in the company of the BGC proved far too tempting for many of the Monopoly Tour regulars, and it was with the very encouraging entourage of 5 (Charlie, Buddy Rob, Aussie Pete, New Guy Mickey and No Nickname Michael) that we travelled the joys of the Bakerloo line up to Marylebone Tube Station. For our female readers, Spikey haired Ed was in a miff and refused to come along…………..he’ll be back next week, sleep easy ladies, sleep easy.

Propping up the post - or the post is propping me up.

As always I’d planned out the pubs and there were three Cask Marque emporiums to be found in the vicinity of the station, running almost in a direct line running east to west from the station.

The first stop was Allsop Arms in Gloucester Place which was a short walk turning left out of the station. This is a Greene King pub and felt like a small village hostelry tucked away from the noise and clamour of central London. 5 pints of London Gold and 1 bottle on Bud later we realised we were once again sitting under the loud speaker and sure enough as soon as it turned ½ 6 the landlord must have decided that it was evening time and on came the music again. In slight relief we recognised that he was playing what seemed to be an 80’s mix tape but again we were driven away early into the evening to find the next and hopefully quieter place.

Allsop Arms - Buddy Rob checks the beer range before entering.

But before our departure we’d easily located the Cask Marque certificate displayed on a column next to the bar but once again I and my useless phone had to do the merry old dance of trying to find a good enough connection after scanning the certificate. Aussie Pete came to the rescue in a rather geeky but good way by “tethering” my phone to his which was then acting as an access point………………………yeah right. All very sad and boring but it did allow me to get the scan and did allow all the others to make various hilarious jokes along the lines of “oooo so you two are going to be tethered all night are you?” – It was like a really crap Larry Grayson had come back to haunt us.

Anyway, escaping the every increasing noise of the Allsop Arms we walked back to Marylebone and the Victoria and Albert which sits in the very station building itself. As regular readers will know, I’ve now visited more than my fair share of station pubs and it’s very nice to be able to report that the V&A (as it’s known to friends) is yet again another very very good station pub.

The V&A from the outside of the station.

It is split into two parts and at first on the side where we’d entered there was only one hand pump serving Old Speckled Hen which may lead you to believe there wasn’t much of a beer selection, but eagle eyed Buddy Rob noticed that not only were there bottles of Bud in the fridge but also bottles of Duvel and Chimay Red. Charlie on the other hand had noticed the Meantime Pale Ale and it was with 5 pints of this (yes, and the bottle of Bud) that we retired into the other half of the bar to notice 4 other handpumps! The pints of Meantime came in a selection of Meantime glasses (see Golden Lion) and Stella Glasses (grrrr) but I’m still convinced there’s something about a stemmed glass which makes one behave in a more cultured fashion.

It was whilst our drinks were being poured that I asked the barmaid if she knew where the Cask Marque certificate was. “Oh yes” she replied “Just next door, on the wall” and sure enough, there it was! It was only after getting the scan (no need for Pete’s special tether this time) that I realised this was the first barmaid in the whole of the Monopoly Tour (so far) who knew what I was going on about when I’d mentioned Cask Marque – add to this the fact she looked like Velma from Scooby Doo – it was no wonder that I, and the rest of the scanners, all fell instantly in love with her!

But true love cannot wait for a Cask Marque bottle opener and it was half way through our drinks that Aussie Pete announced that his scan score was at the dizzy heights of 24 and the very next scan would see him net him his first Cask Marque gift. So we scurried away into the night pausing only for Aussie Pete to take my photo against a Monopoly themed advert inside the pub. As I stood there posing, the old fella on the next table leaned over and very conspiratorially asked “Do you work for the Government then?”

I mean how do you answer that? So I did it just like Nick Clegg would and lied…………….

The Government Toilet Inspector in action

The final planned stop was the strangely named Perseverance in Shroton Street. This was a pub that Charlie had previously visited and he’d “bigged” it up all along the tour. When we’d got there it was something of a disappointment. Obviously a older traditional pub (big heavy Charrington lanterns hanging outside) it’s been stripped back to it’s minimalistic bare bones so all you’re left with is a circular bar in the middle of the room and a few tables and chairs. The outside was thronging with hoards of drinkers but the inside was almost deserted in a atmospherical vacuum. The service was delightful however, by surely someone who could have easily have been Miss Barmaid 2012 dressed in tight denim shorts and wellies (it works, try it. It works!) and the 5 pints of Doombar was perfectly served. Unfortunately though Buddy Rob had to settle for a pint of Heineken (all tastes the same Rob, really it does).

Detail of the Perseverance's Charrington Lanterns.

Aussie Pete by this time was nearly in tears as he hadn’t managed to locate the certificate for the scan but a quick enquiry with the bar manageress had her scuttling up to the office to produce the certificate for us all to scan away to our heart’s content.

We retired outside to the much jollier atmosphere and to toast Aussie Pete’s 25^th scan when he appeared holding aloft a professional looking laptop bag. “Who left their bag inside?” he helpfully announced as we all looked at each other wondering why he’d just basically stolen someone’s computer. “Ah……I guess I’ll put it back then…” Yeah, probably a good idea, that’s personal bag advice there as PigeonJon might say.

It may have been that the Perseverance was just too trendy for us old farts. We asked for crisps but got a handful of lattice shapes on a china plate, which although tasty wasnt what we were used to.

Buddy Rob offers the posh crisps to New guy Mickey

Buddy Rob had to leave us then but there was just enough funds in the kitty to warrant a lightening quick sprint over the Marylebone Road into Harcourt Street and the aptly named Harcourt Arms, a very handsome looking end of street pub which a curious Swedish twist (it's true, they even say it on their Twitter account). Not only were there numerous adverts for the appalling Kopparberg Cider but there was also live streaming of league Ice Hockey. Luckily the Adnams Ghost Ship was tasting very English although the boys had now almost to a man slipped into lager mode.

The boys approaching the Harcourt like Reservoir Dogs

From there, after my chair had been stolen by an old chap whilst I was dashing to the loo, I made my excuses and left. For me this just left a nice short stroll back to Edgeware Road and one single Tube stop before Paddington and the train home.

Upon entering work the following day I discover from New Guy Mickey that the remaining boys remained in the Harcourt for several hours longer. I hear that Charlie has changed his name to Johan Johansson, No Nickname Michael's favourite snack is rotting herring heads and Aussie Pete is working his passage to Stockholm aboard a fishing trawler.

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited = 70

Is there no service that a pub won’t do now? = In the V&A you can have table service so you don’t need to leave your bags unattended. In the Allsop Arms they will serve you at the fruit machine!

Are Wagon Wheels Paleo = ?

Next Stop = Bow Street

Electric Company

OK, fair warning. This post is going to be a moan. A big moan. A big long whingeing moan. Want to leave now? Well you’ve had your warning……………

The thing is, it all started so well yesterday evening when I returned home to fine two pieces of beer related post waiting for me. Firstly there was the 2013 edition of CAMRA’s Good Beer Guide. But secondly, and probably more relevant to this blog, was a big padded envelope from Cask Marque containing my 25 scan bottle opener and my 50 scan polo shirt. Inside was a letter from good old Alistair from Cask Marque, encouraging me to try to get a photo in the shirt whilst holding a pint. Let’s just say it was a good job I didn’t take the shirt with me to work today…………………….

The next square on the board was the Electric Company, which meant I would have to put the old grey cells into action to decide where to go. After at least 2 minutes of thinking I stumbled on the brilliant idea to go to Battersea Power Station – now decommissioned and no longer producing any electricity but at least I wouldn’t be able to miss it!

Look, I didn't miss it!

 

Although the idea might have been sound, the location was less than ideal as the power station is located well off the beaten track and I could only locate two potential pubs anywhere near it at all. I also reckoned that a journey out to the wilds of Battersea would cause minimal interest in the usual gang of work alcoholics and try as I might I couldn’t even get Spiky haired Ed interested in a visit even though he’s got more baggage than a Paddington porter to get rid of at the moment. So once again it was just Jack Jones and me who alighted at Vauxhall station and walked the ½ mile or so to the Masons Arms on Battersea Park Road.

At this point, everything was fine.

 

As regular visitors (yeah right!) to this blog will know, so far I’ve been very impressed with the standard of Fuller’s pubs both in terms of beer, beer range and beer quality but also in the style and décor of the places. The Doric Arch and The Parcel Yard are both excellent examples of their superb pubs and on the face of it the Masons Arms also fitted the bill. All sanded floorboards and wooden tables the place looked cool and stylish as did the young trendy clientele all sipping from their oversized wineglasses. The barmaid informed me that it was actually table service (in a pub?!) but deciding very quickly I wanted the sausage and mash and a pint of ButcombeBitter I forewent this and just asked where the Cask Marque certificate was. “The Cask what?” she replied and somehow I knew this would end in a no-scan. She helpfully asked her manager but he also hadn’t heard of Cask Marque. “But you’re a Fuller’s pub aren’t you” I asked, “You must have heard of Cask Marque”. “No, I’ve been here two years and I’ve never seen this certificate” he replied. I tried to show him his pub on the Cask Marque app but the signal was playing up so couldn’t, but I still have to ask how on earth this can happen. Perhaps Fuller’s give their tenants a free reign when it comes to their pubs and providing they are turning a profit, pretty much leave them to their own devices, and I will freely admit that the pub looked to be being run very well. There was a good crowd in for a Thursday night, the place was clean and tidy (although a little too hip for my liking) but surely they have a duty to ensure that their pubs are being run with their primary product, i.e. ale, in mind? The pint of Butcombe was disappointing at best. Totally out of condition, it wasn’t exactly off, but flat, tepid and totally without any sort of carbonation or head, it’s not a good way to spend £4.15 (yes, you heard me, four pounds fifteen pence).

Now there’ll be a school of thought reading this who’ll say, “Well, why didn’t you complain? Ask for a new pint?” etc etc and they of course have a valid point. But after meeting such a clueless response when asking about Cask Marque I reckoned my chances of a bit of “ale understanding” was never going to happen. How do you explain to someone who doesn’t know about cask beer that the beer doesn’t taste right? Now don’t get me wrong, the staff were fine, very helpful, very courteous, I mean the fellow who served me my sausage and mash (which I have to say was excellent – but at £11 bloody well should be!) couldn’t have been more polite, but when you’ve made a special journey to go to a pub, specifically because of their supposed beer standards, I was miffed to say the least.

So rather huffily making my way back towards Vauxhall station I popped into the only other Cask Marque pub I could see for miles, The Vauxhall Griffin in Wyvil Road. This is a nice looking pointy corner pub and had a sizable Thursday night crowd flowing out of the doors. Best of all, the Cask Marque certificate on the wall, next to bar, easy access, scan in the bag. Unfortunately getting service wasn’t so easy. It was pizza night and the staff seemed to have to go through the minutest rigmarole to get the pizza orders to the kitchen that I’ve ever seen. Fill in a coupon, tear off the slip, give one half to the customer, stamp the other half, pin it to the board, jump up and clap three times, staple it to the till receipt, touch the floor, knock on the wall, get the change…………honestly it went on and one and on. Add to this that they seemed to have only one till it was a wonder I didn’t do a scan and dash.

If you look very carefully you'll see a member of staff abseiling the pizza order down to the kitchen

 

But I didn’t, I hung out for my pint of Cleopatra from Derventio Brewery, and was quite glad I did. Untappd describes this as a fruit beer and I’d certainly agree with that. A really challenging combination of sour fruit (it tasted like grapefruit to me?) and a big hop bite, it was good, very good in fact but one of those beers that really shouldn’t be served in pints. This is where we need continental sizes as a 0.3l would have been perfect but seeing as our pathetic government can’t achieve any sort of positive action for beer drinkers, I reckon there’s more chance I’ll meet Clint Eastwood on my next visit.

So, all in all, not quite the bright and sparkly visit I was hoping for. And just so I really knew I’d had a disappointing night, the wonderful First Great Western decided to delay my train. Oh FGW, I reckon someone could give you a load of track, a handful of trains and several hundred staff and you’d still manage not to be able to run a train company…………….oh wait a minute, that’s what someone’s gone and done!

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited = 58 (Yes, that’s right, I’m not just scanning as part of this!)

Highlight of the night = Someone walking down the road, swigging from a can of condensed milk

If I could have a wish……… = Make pubs remember that they can do food, they can do a range of wines, they can do beautiful decorations and they can do service for a range of customers, but remember you should also be doing beer as well!

Next Stop = Whitehall