Trafalgar Square

Thought I'd start with a picture this week.

I think it’s actually a pretty good achievement that I’ve (we’ve) managed to complete two whole sides of the Monopoly Board and got nearly half way along the third side when finally we hit our first “venue issue”. Basically the nearest Cask Marque pubs to Trafalgar Square are the Silver Cross and the Lord Moon of the Mall, pubs we previously crossed off the list when we did Whitehall. The next nearest seemed to be The Harp, which again had already been  visited as part of Northumberland Avenue and going by the Cask Finder map, the next grouping of pubs were all centred around Leicester Square, a place we have yet to visit and therefore not one I wanted to encroach onto just yet.

Blue Peter never seemed to shut up about this tree - Now I've finally seen it!

Luckily though, Leicester Square has an absolute plethora of Cask Marque pubs surrounding it, so I decided that if we concentrated on the easterly side of this pub grouping we could still cover a nice little section of the pubs but still leave a sizable bunch to be done come Leicester Square time.

So although the location of the pubs was decided we took rather a hit on the number of attendees as come Friday when we finally decided to make the trip it was only Aussie Pete, Spiky Haired Ed, Charlie and myself on board. Buddy Rob had prior engagements, New Guy Mickey was feeling under the weather and No-nickname Michael was coming along all until the last minute when he bailed on us! And this even after his dry month had ended!

Never mind because although it was only the four of us who ventured into the biting cold of Trafalgar Square to take the all important photos – I successfully managed to ignore the encouragement of the others to straddle a lion – and have a look at the twinkling Xmas tree, both Charlie and I had been in contact with old friends who were hoping to make an appearance sometime during the night.

Ed wanted me to lie in the lion's paws! Yeah! Right!

From Trafalgar Square we dodged the traffic and made our way up St Martin’s Place to the first pub, a Taylor Walker place called The Salisbury. Absolutely rammed to the gunnels, as one might expect on a Friday night near the heart of Theatreland we never the less threaded ourselves through the throng and somehow I found myself nominated as kitty man, again! Amongst the more common ales (Bombardier, Tim Taylor & London Pride) I spotted a festive special from Solebay Brewery called Santa’s Spirit. Puzzlingly I cannot find anything about this brewery on both the internet and in CAMRA’s Good Beer Guide and I wonder if this is a test-microbrewery from Adams? Any further information to the usual address please!

The Salisbury, all gleaming lights and brass.

The beer itself was fine, nice deep ruby red with a good bitter hop character and even lager boy Ed was kept satisfied with a pint of proper Budweiser. Although the pub was full, service was excellent and the polite barman even touched his heart after I paid for the round - I can’t even say the bloke behind me yelling in my ear “3 pints of Bomba mate!” put me off! Amazingly although the pub was a real squeeze we easily found the certificate, framed and on a pillar by the bar. We did need a little bit of extra light help to get the scan but it was soon in the bag.

The pub is one of Taylor Walker’s gems, all gleaming etched mirrors, low hanging crystal lanterns and bronze arte nouveau lamps so it was a bit of a shame that we decided to escape the squeeze after just one pint and made our way just round the corner into St Martin’s Court and another Taylor Walker place, the inappropriately named Round Table. I say inappropriately named because for starters, it’s not round and secondly there’s not many tables, and none of the ones that are there are round too!

The Round Table - not in the least bit round or tabley

Initially the pub was just as full as The Salisbury and it was a fight to get to the bar and get our order of 3 pints of Bombardier and 1 pint of Estrella. Spiky Haired Ed had the audacity to correct my pronunciation of Estrella (apparently it’s “estraya”) as we installed ourselves in a cramped little corner of the pub by a table (not round) with two Norwegians and the biggest camera in the world.

We spotted the certificate on the wall behind the bar but it was an old style out of date one without the QR code. Aussie Pete asked the barmaid why they had an expired certificate up and she raced to get the bar manager who explained how the new one was “in the post”.

Although the pub isn’t anywhere near as decorative or attractive as The Salisbury we decided to stay for another round and passing the kitty over to Pete I asked him to get 3 pints of Abbot Ale as this was the last beer we hadn’t tried. “3 pints of Abigail?” repeated the antipodean special one. So maybe I can’t pronounce Estrella but there are limits…………….!

Just as we were half way down the pints of Abigail, Charlie reported that his old schoolmate One-Time Tom was in the vicinity of the pub, and he wasn’t wrong as One-Time Tom joined us with a pint and an immediate download of Cask Finder as soon as we explained what it was we were actually doing. He then went on to demonstrate his uncanny party piece of being able to list the highest chart position and number of weeks on the chart for any 80’s song. A very impressive if not a little bit worrying talent.

And then talk about good timing, just as we were pulling on jackets to leave my old Army mate, Romanian Reg appeared! No time for a drink Reg we’re off to the next place!

The next place was The Angel and Crown which meant retracing our step to The Salisbury and crossing to the other side of St Martin’s Place as the two pubs are opposite each other. The Angel and Crown is one of a small chain of 9 pubs across London run by the ETM Group, or brothers Ed and Tom Martin. The pub is a cool trendy venue, attracting a cool and trendy crowd, which means I certainly don’t fit in, but the beer range was excellent with a couple of pints of DoubleDark Oatmeal Stout from Caledonian and a couple of pints of Jugged Hare from Sambrooks Brewery. Ed got the lovely treat of a pint of Bitburger Pilsner, a real German classic and one I hope he enjoyed!

Charlie took the plunge to ask the barmaid about the certificate but it was one of those occasions when we could have been asking if the chiropodist was free as the poor woman didn’t have a clue what we were going on about. So we escaped the cool and trendy throng and stood outside to drink our pints which enabled Reg and myself to catch up on old times and for Aussie Pete to get someone to take our photo whilst we were all still standing.

Outside the Angel & Crown - L-R, Romanian Reg, Spiky Haired Ed, Charlie, BGC, One-Time Tom, Aussie Pete - I win the best turnups competition. The others didn't know that was happening.

We pushed on up the narrow and winding New Row to the junction of Garrick Street and Bedford Street and the corner pub of The Roundhouse, a Fuller’s pub which at least has the decency to be round, well at the front anyway. One-Time Tom led the rush to the bar and secured pints of a Fuller’s special limited edition ale called Traitor’s Gate. The website says it’s only been brewed in limited supply and only stocked at a handful of specially chosen pubs, which on the one hand is great because I now feel privileged to have tried such a lovely pint, but on the other hand a shame because it’s such a nice tasting brew it’ll be a shame to not see it regularly.

It was about now that the evening started to get a bit wobbly and I can remember getting a handful of bottles of Fuller’s Black Cab Stout (I’d asked for London Porter, but they didn’t have any) and a single shot of Jägermeister for Ed because he wanted a bomb but the barmaid told me it was a waste of money for the can of Red Bull for just one shot – so I drank it.

Next thing I know I’m sat on the floor amongst the coats, jackets and bags.

Taxi for BGC time; Aussie Pete kindly guided me to the Leicester Square tub station but that still didn’t stop me making a torturous route back to Paddington, via Euston Road where I dashed through 6 lanes of traffic and vaulted over a central reservation and somehow didn’t die.

Paddington saw me board a sleeper train to God only knows where until I realised that I might be better to get off this one before it left and instead take the last proper train home instead and someone or something must have been smiling down on me as I managed to wake up at the right stations to change trains and eventually successfully navigated home.

I blame the food.

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited  = 126 - It was a scan disaster. Only one added - TREVOR!

Walking tip = Bouncing from one curb to the other increases your distance by at least double.

Is Spiky Haired Ed original? = Well apparently not. Charlie found this blog and this character. The resemblance is uncanny! I’ve mailed Debbie, the owner of the blog, to see if she agrees!

Next Stop = Fenchurch Street Station

P.S. We didn’t have any food.

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

Northumberland Avenue

Right, firstly updating the blog at this time means for certain I’m going to have a late night and that late night has only been made later by the shear idiocy of First Great Western. But I’m determined not to bore you, consistent reader, any more than I normally do with moans about this and instead announce that I have an amendment to make……….

You will have seen from my post on the Electricity Company that I was slightly disappointed by my visit to the Masons Arms in Battersea. Well let no man accuse the Masons or Fullers of not making amends! I was contacted this week firstly by Fullers in that they wanted the General Manager of the Masons to speak to me personally which was then followed by a lovely phone call from Matt (the General Manager) who not only apologised for my disappointment during my visit, making me feel very guilty in the process(!) but also sent me a very generous voucher to come and have a meal and a pint on them at my convenience. He also assured me that the Cask Marque certificate is now proudly on display so I more than look forward to revisiting and making their acquaintance again. I will of course Blog this re-visit when it happens.

First Great Western, take note, this is how you perform customer service. Listen to them, understand them and then act on those comments………….oh sorry of course I forgot, you hate your customers in the first place.

Right, so down to tonight’s visit………………..

It says "Northumberland Avenue" - Honest it does!

Regular readers of the blog will know that Northumberland Avenue nearly got lumped in with last week’s visit to Whitehall. It’s when you see how close the streets are you realise that the Monopoly board designers perhaps had some method behind their madness. Northumberland Street is a swift left turn when exiting from Embankment Tube station and it was only a brisk walk up the street to the turning to the aptly named Northumberland Street and the Sherlock Holmes pub.

The boys choosing to enter through the door covered in lemon curd - Lemon Entry my dear Watson!(I'm here all week!)

I had been in the Sherlock Holmes before as our work’s Xmas party was held just round the corner and a swift pre-party pint was the order of the evening. That evening we were all dressed in penguin suits which drew a couple of witty remarks from the other customers so it was something nearing relief that tonight we were in mufti. What we’d also failed to note the last time we were here is the interesting history of the pub. Their own website tells the full story (and much better than I do) but special mention must be made of the display of Sherlock Holmes’s sitting room and the rest of the Holmensian memorabilia.

Unfortunately we didn’t get to see the sitting room as the pub was absolutely rammed, full to the gunnels, and as we were running at our largest crowd so far it was rather a case of getting in, getting a drink, getting the scan and getting out again.

We did note the rather impressive encased dog’s head on the wall (presumably signifying the Hound of the Baskervilles) but we also noted the impressive framed casing around the Cask Marque certificate located behind the bar. Luckily Aussie Pete’s antipodean charm got the barmaid to rescue the certificate from the frame so that we could all scan it. I say “all” because now we’ve got Aussie Pete, New Guy Mickey, Buddie Rob, Spiky haired Ed and Charlie all scanning along with me. I should have charged commission! As previously mentioned this was our largest visitation so far as along with these 5 regulars we were joined tonight by “yet to be given a nickname Michael” and the lovely Mags.

Is there nothing more attractive than a woman with a pint? Yes, an overweight bespectacled middle aged bloke with a pint.

Mags requires rather more explanation as she (yes that’s right, a lady who works within an IT team!) is a delectable creature with a dirty Essex accent reminiscent of a gurgling drain and who had positively begged to come of this evening excursion. “I’ll be drinking what Rich drinks as well” she bravely suggested before failing to finish her pint of the self branded Sherlock Holmes Ale. (I must find out what this ale is – I think it’s rebadged Abbot Ale (it is a Greene King pub after all) but I will endeavour to discover the truth – (did I sound like Sherlock then?))

Because the place was so full we all elected that a swift move onwards might be the best thing and we moved via The Strand in full circle back to Villier’s Street and the Princess of Wales, a Nicholson’s pubs just outside Embankment Tube Station.

Not named after Princess Di if you were interested

There were slight moans and groans from the collective as some of them had experienced this pub before, but to be honest I found it a regular if slightly unimaginative Nicholson’s hostelry with a good choice of beer and the Cask Marque certificate was easily available on the wall by the toilets. Then at just gone 7 o clock, just as we were deciding whether to stay for another one or not, the landlord decided that it was disco night and slammed on some blazing Jamiroquai out of every loud speaker. Why? Did he peer over the handpumps and decide that the crowd looked bored and were just waiting for livening up? Or did he just do what he does no doubt every night and without consideration to his public alienate the majority of the clientele?

Whatever the reasons, they were lost on us anyway; we made out escape after just one pint and crossed back over the Strand into Chandos Place and the multi-award winning Harp. This tiny narrow pub had a multitude of patrons spilling over onto the pavement and it wasn’t until I entered that a realised how multi-award winning it was. There seemed to be CAMRA certificates all over the shop and Cask Marque certificates stretching back year upon year, but alas we couldn’t locate the current certificate and get the scan. It was then I noticed that this was not only a multi-award winning CAMRA pub; it was in fact the National Pub of the Year for 2010!

Inside the Harp. The picture doesn't show how there are as many people as there are pump clips!

I would have loved to have spend longer there – the bar was simply covered with ex-pump clips, almost like a plastic ivy crawling up to the ceiling but not only was the pub simply too full, but even outside we were constantly hassled by a rather over zealous glass collector who insisted we stood in certain areas. I will see whether Cask Marque’s claim that if you can prove you visited a pub but didn’t get the scan they will still award the scan is true as I say attempting to go back inside to try to find the certificate was just impossible.

There was one final Cask Marque pub I’d noticed just round the corner into Bedfordbury and I hope that the little Lemon Tree is tucked away where hopefully enough people do find it. It’s a lovely little oasis amongst the crowds of Covent Garden and the pint of Harvey’s Best Bitter was without doubt the best I’d had all night. So much so we stayed for three of them. It's to my shame that I forgot to take a photo of the place but they can rest assured that we spent more there that we did at the other three! The Cask Marque certificate was easily available on the wall and the most fun was trying to bet whether the various lotharios in the window seats would successfully “pull” their nominated ladies. We reckon one will, and one won’t. Not that we’ll ever find out anyway……………………..

There was definitely something funny which happened tonight which I can't remember.........there maybe an update to this post!

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited = 64 (maybe 65 if Cask Marque award me the Harp)

Advice for Aussie Pete = It’s all for charity mate!

Should you discuss religion in a pub? = If you agree with Charlie and me in that it poisons everything, then yes. (It does. Seriously, it does. I am available to rent for further discussion!)

Next Stop = Marylebone Station

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FLASH UPDATE

I’ve remembered the funny thing, although trying to write about it may well be nigh on impossible……….but here goes.

Basically as we were standing outside the Harp (in the right place of course) I was regaling the boys (and girl) with a description of the T-Shirt I received from Cask Marque for reaching 50 scans. I then amended my description by saying, “Well actually it’s not a T-Shirt, it’s a Polo Shirt…..” which was then met by a guffaw of laughter from Charlie as he spluttered “A poe-loe shirt? What the heck is a poe-loe shirt?”

Oh, I get it; it’s my hilarious comedy midland accent again. This seems to delight co-workers as I offer to make a “kup” or a “mugg” of tea when of course it apparently should be a “caaaap” and “maaaag”. So I challenged Charlie to say polo shirt and it seems you can take the man out of Somerset but there’ll still be a bit of corn chewing yokel left behind – “Poo-loo” it seemed to come out.

Then we went round the group – most seemed to go for a pretty standard southern “Paw-lowe”, although Mags took this to new levels with a sort of Wizard of Oz Wicked Witch inspired cackle (“Paow-Laow”) – but nothing prepared us for Aussie Pete. Although we were all expecting and awaiting something of a high rising terminal what we weren’t expecting the way he mangled the two vowels into two completely different sounds – they nearest I can type it is “Pouw-Laough” – Rolf would have been proud! How we laughed until the Cancer Research guy turned up!

(Oh and how many of you have sound said Polo out loud? I know only three people read this, but did you? I bet you did!)