Go

Well, it didn't quite end in a blaze of glory, unless you consider sitting in a traffic jam on three of the country's finest motorways glorious, but it did end and with everyone's patience being tested the fullest, that's probably a good thing.

I think I've already mentioned that the idea for the "GO" square was to "go back" to a few of the favourite pubs we'd covered during the tour, a very fine idea suggested by none other than the Spikey Haired one. I'd done my best to canvass opinion as to what people thought were the favourite pubs, but probably like most things I do, I'd over complicated things, trying to ascertain which were peoples favourite beer, barmaid and tour experience when I should have kept it simple........stupid. 

In the end though, the answer was very clear from those who bothered to respond as two venues were mentioned by many tourists as being worthy of a second visit, so we settled on a simple rendezvous at the best of the "chain" pubs, the Viaduct Tavern in Old Bailey and the best of the "independents" the Hercules Pillars in Holborn. If you want to find out why they were voted the best I can only direct you to the blog posts they appeared in. 

 

The tour at the Viaduct - just to prove to me they did go there.

Attendance looked to be very healthy as the Payroll girls seemed to whip up nearly their whole department into coming out, including all the regulars of Nicole, Brenda, Gemma, Lucie, Carole and George, those we hadn’t seen for some time, Emma, Sarah-Jane, Charlene and those we'd never seen before at all, Natasha and Nicola (yes I know Nicola isn't in Payroll but for this exercise she is). My department on the other hand were rather scraping the barrel as only Ed, Mickey, Nick and Charlie put in appearances although we too had a new face in that of Charmer Palmer.  

But the full attendance doesn't stop there, my "local" drinking buddies Tim and Steve were also going to make it and even the legend that is NateDawg was taking the express tractor from Norwich for a swift pint or two in London before heading off elsewhere. 

I, just to make things interesting, had actually got a day off work on the day of the tour and this was to take another tourist, my now teenage Reubot indoor skydiving in Milton Keynes. The sky diving all went to plan, but what didn't was the journey home which saw me waste far too much of my life on the M1, M25 and M4 shouting at the SatNav. 

So it was a hot and sweaty and non-too impressed BGC who found himself kicking his heels on Thatcham station platform for the 1/2 hour wait for the 19:00 train to London. Luckily this dark and despondent mood was somewhat lifted by a text from Slowpoke Sam who initially texted to say how sorry he was he couldn't make it tonight having only just got home and was therefore running far too late. Needless to say, as soon as he heard I also was delayed as an apology from the Met Police was more than happy to sling on a very dodgy pair of shorts and join me for the evening expedition to the big smoke. 

Alas due to our late arrival we had to forgo the joys of the Viaduct Tavern and the company of NateDawg who apparently had much better offers of much better beers in Birmingham, so we rather dishevelledly made an appearance at the Hercules Pillars to a half hearted cheer and a demand for the "prizes". 

 

The only time the tour travelled by bus - and I missed it.

Perhaps this was the real reason why so many people had come out; nothing to do with my company and the beer but instead my misguided advertisement that everyone attending tonight would get a prize for coming on the tour. Well I was true to my word even if perhaps the reality of typing "Monopoly Novelty" into the eBay search engine only produced some pretty lacklustre gifts. 

For everyone who had attended at least one tour but not more than 10 separate pub visits, I'd managed to pick up some splendid packs of Monopoly branded tissues, just right for the handbag or pocket. These were eagerly snapped up by the lower-end tourists with many a comment of "exceeding personal charm" etc etc. 

For the boys who'd achieved more than 10 visits but hadn't made it to the dizzy heights of the top 5 they got a very nice Monopoly badge. It was just rather unfortunate that these people, No-Nickname Michael, Big-J and Munchkin Steve were all no-shows and therefore it was rather like those award ceremonies when the prize is presented by video link or "here to accept the award on his behalf....." except that we had no video link and no-one to accept the awards on their behalf. So actually it was nothing like that at all. 

For the girls who'd achieved a similar status (more than 10 but not in the top 5) I had actually managed to pull off a fairly decent prize. Little Monopoly houses fashioned into earrings. Nicole and Brenda seemed delighted, especially Nicole who favours earrings usually fashioned by Pat Butcher. Gemma seemed a little miffed though as she was the top scoring girl and I'd noticed she never seems to wear earrings I'd decided to get her something a bit more special in a Monopoly bracelet (hand crafted from little monopoly houses and a single monopoly hotel) which would show her scraggy wrists off to their best advantage. Although I think she liked the bracelet apparently she does wear earrings beneath that beaver pelt of a hair-do. But anyway with a couple of spare pairs of earrings (they only sold them in packs of 5) she also got a pair as did Emma who can turn on the charm when there's a freebie on the cards.

 

An ear - and an earring.

 

The final 5 all got individual gifts, well sort of as in the case of Charlie and Ney Guy Micky, they both got a luxury Monopoly mug. Aussie Pete, who sadly was another no-show got some Monopoly cufflinks, which were presented on the following Monday. He instantly put them on but strangely I've not seen them since..... 

Buddy Rob never took part in the Cask Marque Cask Finder scanning and so alas never qualified for a Cask Marque bottle opener. Seeing an opportunity I thought such an item would make a splendid gift and could only get a branded Budweiser one of course. 

At the end of it all, there wasn't much doubt about who was the winner in terms of accompanying tours. Spikey Haired Ed, he who'd almost laid his life down in the cause of the tour had made an appearance in no less that 100 pubs. Quite an achievement. But what on earth do you buy the man who has everything, including the best hair-do in London? In my case I bought some Monopoly tour books which I handed over saying "If you don't want them, I'd love to have them back!" I think he got the hint. 

The final prize of the evening was the free to enter raffle where the book of raffle tickets had cost me more than the prize. Anticipation was heightened as bar man Joe pulled out the winning ticket which, perhaps aptly was owned by Slowpoke Sam. To say he was delighted with the prize would be an understatement. Probably best to let his acceptance tweet speak for itself.

 

Sam - Charming. 

So there we have it. There were a few more drinks to be drunk, a couple more photos to be taken but as people started to slip away the evening fizzled out and the tour ended without any hint of fireworks and certainly not a top hat in sight. Micky and I were the last men standing but even we had packed things up by 10:30.  

Probably the most asked question of the night was "so, what are we doing next?" and although I do have a couple of bubbling ideas, I think it might be best to let it all lie for a while. Anyway if the suggestion of "let’s do Cludeo next" is a serious one, it's going to take me a while to think up how to apply the rules of that game!

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The final post reads far more melancholic that I want it to. The final tour was an anti-climax but that's not to say the whole tour hasn't been a success. Leaving aside all the rushing around and lateness which obviously put a dampener on the evening we'd also made that classic mistake of trying to recreate a fantastic evening by revisiting a location. When we firstly stumbled on the Hercules Pillars we'd had a bit of an awful evening, stroppy barmen and barladies, terrible weather and the company of the drunkest man in the universe. To cross into Pat's welcoming domain was a joy that evening and whilst he made us more than welcome again on this night and the beer was in fine form (haven't mentioned at all what I drunk this night) there was a sense we were all searching for something that just wasn't in the air this night.

Perhaps then we shouldn't dwell on this final night but think back to some of the things which really did stand out on the tour. Firstly there were the places we went to; London is such a fantastic location but even there it's very easy to stick to the beaten track of the West End and the tourist sights. Without the tour I'd never have had a reason to go down to Elephant and Castle and see the concrete monstrosity that is the shopping centre there. Without the tour we'd have never have gone up as far north as Camden for an after work drink. Without the tour we’d have never learnt the historical facts about the Old Bailey cells and where William Blake is buried.  

And then there was of course the pubs. There were the splendid, whether that was down to their history or their uniqueness (Olde Mitre, Viaduct Tavern, George) but let us not forget those which are just carving out a living for themselves at just being someone's local and being the sort of pub I feel most at home in (The Red Lion, The Kings Arms, The Cheshire Cheese) and by the same token, even though they're not my preferred kettle of fish, those pubs which are still making otherwise derelict and empty spaces into somewhere for people to gather and talk and live (Tyborn, Rockingham Arms) 

There were also the people we met; how lovely it was to bump into lovely Heike in the Edinboro Castle, remember the photographing artist Helio Teles (still friends on Facebook!), the nameless Spanish & Austrian IT engineers and I'm not sure whether Pete is still in touch with all his male chat up friends.

And finally how about all those things that happened and are the sort of things that will make you say in years to come, "Oh, do you remember when we went to the Red Lion in Angel, yes you do, it was when Ed got run over by a bus" - or "it was when BGC found himself in hospital just 24 hours after posing with Churchill and Roosevelt" or "it was when Aussie Pete let rip on the charity collector" 

There's just one final image I want to finish with, and maybe it's this that sums up what I was trying to achieve all along. When Sam and I walked into the Hercules on that final night, the first sight that greeted me was that of Brenda and Nicole just returning from the bar with pints of ale (turned out it was Hobgoblin) - so that's without coercion and prompting possibly a couple of people who's when next trying to decide what to drink will say, "do you know what, get me a beer....." 

 

There were some perks to doing the tour.

 

Now what were the rules of Cluedo...........

Community Chest #3

The idea for this particular trip had been floating about for some time after it had been suggested around my local CAMRA group to do a trip to London. A couple of the chaps had also been reading this blog so it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss to try to incorporate this trip into the tour.

My original thought was to visit some of the well known pubs in the West End but our branch newsletter “Ullage” editor-in-chief and all round good guy Tim Thomas had heard of a launch of Berkshire based Siren Craft Brewery beers at the Craft Beer Co in Clerkenwell, which made me focus in on this area instead for potential tour locations.

BGC finds the Craft Beer Co open

 

At first everything looked very rosy, not only were there quite a few Cask Marque accredited pubs in this area but they were very well regarded places that appear in many of the London pub guides. So quick as a flash I had a tour route planned taking in the Craft Beer Co itself and other places such as The Bleeding Heart, The Gunmakers, Jerusalem Tavern and the Ye Old Mitre. But like the best laid plan of mice of men it all went squeak when research showed that all these places were closed at the weekend!

It’s quite a well known fact that areas of “the city” are like ghost towns at the weekend and most pubs and shops don’t bother to open because of the lack of trade. But I was quite surprised to find that this practice had crept into the Clerkenwell area as well. Surely there would be enough locals on a Saturday to warrant opening?

But a closed pub is a closed pub, so I amended the route I’d planned and substituted another 4 pubs alongside the Craft Beer Co to make up the 5 for our trip. According to all the pubs’ websites, they were all definitely open, but I decided to keep the locations a secret so as to make it more of a mystery tour. The other thing I did to try to make the tour more entertaining was create an “i-Spy” type quiz, making the tourists spot various items on route. As I’d walked the route a couple of time, just to make sure we didn’t get lost, I made a note of interesting things along the route and added these to a list of other random things the boys would have to try to spot.

So there were items ranging from a “Blue Plaque” to a “Yellow Car” – from a “man being electrocuted” to “someone singing” – It’s all sounds a little pathetic when written down but it was quite amusing, honestly!

So we set off on a midday train with a couple of the chaps still feeling the effects of a heavy Friday night in Hungerford. Which gives me the opportunity to introduce today’s tourists. In addition to Tweeter Tim there was the branch treasurer Scrumpy Steve, branch secretary Mild Mike, social secretary Stout Richard and Sam Weissbier. And if you’re wondering about the names just ask the guys to show you their badges – it’s a branch joke!

Anyway the trains were running on time and before we really knew it we were alighting at Farringdon tube station and ready to being the trip. A swift turn up Greville Street saw us pass the first item on the i-Spy quiz, a Weatherspoon’s pub named after the Lollard leader, Sir John Oldcastle.

But were weren’t stopping there, and neither were we stopping at the closed Bleeding Heart Tavern and instead the walk up to the Craft Beer Co did prove that this area of London is like a ghost town at the weekends though, in fact it was more like a zombie town as we walked along the deserted litter strewn streets, causing Sam to comment that this was a like a scene from Get Carter.

Yes Steve, it's open!

 

The Craft Beer Co though was far from deserted with a healthy crowd of drinkers in place. The beer range was seriously extensive, I didn’t manage to count all the hand-pumps but there must have been between 10-15 different beers available. Four of these had beers from the Siren Brewery on and Steve, Sam and I had a half of their Under Current Pale Ale and their Sound Wave IPA – both were extremely nice and the only disappointment was that I’d failed to see another one of their beers called Liquid Mistress which has to be the best name for a beer ever!

The amazing mirror ceiling clock thing

 

We’d managed to find a table by the door which just about seated the 5 of use (Tim had swiftly left us for some “new” friends he’d found) and from there we could view the decorative qualities of the pub which included a huge Charrington’s mirror and an even bigger mirrored ceiling that might have doubled as a clock in a previous life.

Finally prizing Tim away from his new friends we moved further along the Clerkenwell Road (spotting the blue plaque commemorating Sir Hiram Maxim’s gun factory) and hit our first disappointment of the day. The Betsy Trotwood on Farringdon Lane was as dead as a dead thing. Not standing on ceremony I knew there was a Fuller’s place, The City Pride, which could stand in as an alternative but shock horror – this was closed as well!

By now the route had deviated slightly so we had to back track to what should have been the third pub, The Three Kings but by now weren’t exactly surprised to find that this was also not open.

Any (open) port in a storm - Luckily this was a superb port.

 

Thank god therefore for the Crown Tavern on Clerkenwell Close which was not only on my planned tour and not only a Cask Marque accredited pub, but was actually open! Oh for an open port in a storm. The troubled waters were soon calmed though as there was a nice selection of 6 ales in addition to a sizable bottle selection. Again Steve, Sam and I went for two different halves, which for me were half a Hoptimus Prime from Robinsons and half a Bitter Californian from the Bristol Beer Factory. Just about making ourselves heard over the cackling old crone on the next table I again apologised for the closed pubs and promised that the “final” pub of my planned 5 pubs would be open – all the time keeping my fingers crossed that it would be.

But before we left I got an easy scan of the certificate which was hanging very available by the bar whilst chatting with possibly the prettiest barmaid of the whole Monopoly Tour so far.

Looking like the world's worst boy band outside the Slaughtered Lamb - Nice cocked leg Sam.

 

A stroll along St John Street (and a bit of tattoo & grave spotting on the way) saw us at the Slaughtered Lamb on Great Sutton Street, which was thankfully open. This wasn’t a Cask Marque accredited place and although they had a few ales on tap their focus was definitely on the craft beer side of things with a whole collection of Camden Town beers, beers from Kernel and also a bottled beer menu that had us giggling at Arrogant Bastard and Slag Pilsner. I started with a pint of Camden’s Gentleman’s Wit, which was extremely enjoyable before managing to secure the final bottle of slag in the pub.

Richard shows off his tatoos

 

Talking about slags (sorry, that link was beneath even me) the pub was suddenly full of beautiful young women and suddenly every wine glass the barman had on his shelves was pushed into service. Apparently there was a PR company round the corner and I’m guessing the ladies were on a weekend training day or induction day or whatever but all of a sudden the average age in the pub had dropped by about 20 years making us feel very old and decrepit indeed.

Would you let this man edit your newsletter? Tim strikes a stylish pose with a flat white.

 

Leaving before we embarrassed ourselves that should have been it for the pubs I’d planned, but sensing that the guys could have done with a couple more we popped into the Three Compasses on the way back to Farringdon station. Not really a place of any merit but they did have the France Vs Ireland 6 Nations rugby match on even if they did serve their bottles of Newcastle Brown Ale with pint glasses.

 

Richard then took a call from his son and quickly recalling the name of the pub just outside Farringdon tube station we arranged to meet up with him in the Castle. Now I’d obviously done this place an injustice in missing it off the tour in the first place because not only was it Cask Marque accredited, meaning I got in a nice surprise scan that I wasn’t expecting but their beer range was quite healthy as well. I for some reason went for a pint of Erdinger and by this point in the proceedings I’ve no idea what the others went for.

This could be an album cover surely? Nice cocked leg (again) Sam.

 

There was just time before Jean-Christophe reclaimed his tables to present the prizes for the i-Spy quiz, which by this point also had descended into a bit of a farce. I can’t even remember who I awarded the prizes to but I’m guessing I completely got the scores completely wrong. But at least I awarded the prizes to our group and not the American girl with the big camera on the table behind.

Inside the Castle

 

The train journey back seemed to be mostly taken up with trying not to wet myself, luckily a parked train at platform 8 at Paddington came to my literal relief. The Thatcham bound personnel managed to sneak in a crafty Burger King and then topped this up with a visit to Tutti Fruitti at Reading, though I believe Steve got his can of Gin & Tonic from somewhere else.

Sam at Burger King. The weird angle is because of his cocked leg.

 

The lucky Newbury bound people managed to get a straight through train instead whereas we took the “more relaxed” route back!

The relaxed route home.

 

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited  = 167

Lessons to be learnt = Ring the pubs beforehand. Oh, and have a coffee every now and then!

Back to the usual tour next week? = Yes please! I couldn’t do this every weekend!

Next Stop =Bond Street

P.S. So how did this qualify for Community Chest? Well with this bunch of weirdos it was more like Care in the Community but somehow I think I fitted right in.

Regent Street

Want to start this one off with another grammar clarification? Really? Not had enough of them yet? Well ok then, just for you I’ll do it, but this one is really pretty boring (the others weren’t yeah?) – OK, so today’s square was Regent Street. Not Regent’s Street, not Regents’ Street and certainly not Regents’s Street. Plain and simple, Regent Street. Which is interesting (oh, yes it bloody well is) because on the other hand, the place that this road ultimately leads to is Regent’s Park. And if you want to know which Regent it was named after, well it was George IV – and that’s the one who was Regent whilst his dad was chewing the carpets and talking to trees. A bit like they still do today.

Coming so quickly behind the legendary night that was Go toJail, I had small hope that this square would reach those sorts of heights. Also we were going out on a Thursday night which meant that all the female tourists cried off citing excuses of “school night drinking” and other pathetic reasons. In fact there were even rumours of going to the gym in preferences of going drinking with the BGC. I mean……gym? Really?

Also when I checked the Cask Marque map for Regent Street, although there are many accredited pubs along and near its length, they’d either already been covered or should be saved for other squares. In the end I was rather “forced” to focus in on the northern end of the street and stray into the area around Great Portland Street which is known as Fitzrovia.

The Maccers wasn't there in George IV's day

Mind you for every cloud there should be a silver lining and for this outing the silver linings were welcome returns to the tour of Munchkin Steve (down from the t’north and getting used to wearing shoes again) Sybil and Big-J. Aussie Pete and Spikey Haired Ed were the ever faithfuls and I’d sooner have Aussie Pete sipping halves than the no-show from Charlie, Buddy Rob & New Guy Micky – honestly gents! You might as well join the ladies in the gym!

So finally getting off much later than I wanted to – I mean, talk about chewing the carpets I think that must be something me and George theIII had in common - the tube was thankfully much quicker than Ed’s call logging, so it was just coming up to 6 o clock when we eventually reached the OldExplorer located in Castle Street, just off Regent Street.

Why does Steve look absolutely mental in every photo?

 

Now as I usually trace the route beforehand on Google Street View and I have to say that this pub doesn’t look all that nice from street level. It has all the charm of an inner city Weatherspoons, a look I can only presume the owners, Greene King aren’t looking for. But upon entering the pub I’m pleased to report that the inside is much nicer. Although it was crowded as you would expect it to be for its location and the time of the evening, the first sight that greeted us was a mini-stillage of several barrels of ale. Not being quite sure what the score with the mini-festival was, we approached the bar and I got the round of Heinekens for Sybil and Munchkin Steve (you can lead the horse to water……..) and 3 and ½ pints of Mordue’s Bunny Hop for us others – yes that’s right blog fans, Spikey Haired Ed was on the ale!

The beer came in those very nice Greene King handled mugs (last seen at the Lucas Arms during Kings Cross) but the pub committed that cardinal sin of taking them straight from the dish washer and using them without letting them cool. No point in keeping your beer at ideal temperature if you’re going to do that!

Every night should include a free T-Shirt

 

Anyway, all complaints aside we got the scan from the certificate just hung by the bar and retired to the only free space which just happened to be by the barrels. I noticed that the festival organisers, who turned out to be from the brewery itself, were running a quiz with the top notch prize of a t-shirt. Now as any reader of the blog will know, I’m always on board for a free t-shirt, so quick as a flash I’d completed my paper and was being photographed by the brewery, complete with t-shirt for their own publicity. So returning the favour the friendly chap had his photo taken for the blog. It turned out as I spoke further with the chap from the brewery, that they had a special 20% discount for CAMRA members so it might have been worth our while staying in the pub longer but alas we had work to do so once Aussie Pete had claimed his free t-shirt it was back across Regent Street and down to Great Portland Street.

The next stop was the George, another Greene King pub but this time one that does look quite attractive from the outside. It’s also one that appears in a couple of my London pub guide books for its interior and the etched mirrors and ornate back bar certainly deserves a mention. The drinks were obtained (I think Sybil and Steve switched to Becks) whilst the ale drinkers (yep even Ed as well) went with Honey Pot from Coach House Brewery. I’m always a bit suspicious of honey beers and they always seem to disappoint, tasting neither strongly enough of honey or having a hop bite to fall back on. This one though was very nice indeed having a good sharp honey smack but not too sickly sweet cloying.

The George - The inside is nicer than the very nice outside

Asking the barmaid about the certificate we were directed around the corner to where it was hanging and were delighted to see that it actually was due to expire that day, meaning we got in a scan that had we gone out on our normal Friday would have missed. I was rather slow getting to the certificate, probably still sorting out the kitty for the rest of them, but Pete later said how there were a couple of blokes stood by the certificate which he asked if they could move out the way. Asking what the certificate was all about Pete told them only to have one of the men say to his friend, “Come on, let’s find a pub that just serves lager.”

See proof this blog isn't just made up!

We moved off to find a pub that didn’t just serve lager and found the next stop, the Crown and Sceptre in Foley Street.

Now we need a quick word about the next two pubs, the Crown and Sceptre and our next planned stop, the Green Man in nearby Riding House Street, are both M&B pubs but very much with a leaning towards the craft beer scene (rather than their Brew XI scene which had coloured my midlands childhood). When I’d tweeted the plans for this week’s tour both pubs had replied to the tweet including pictures of the ales they currently had on at this time. Very impressive!

Crown and Sceptre

The other thing I’d noticed about the Crown and Sceptre was the entrance to the Victorian public toilets just outside the pub. This was easily spotted as we approached the pub, but so were the crowds of drinkers spilling outside the place. Inside it was worse, we’ve come to expect crowded pubs and even though the Crown and Sceptre is quite a big place, the hoards of people were a bit overwhelming, especially for someone like me who considers anything over a bloke with a dog as a crush. The other thing was that these weren’t just normal people, this was very much a gathering of a young and beautiful with everyone seemingly dressed in some sort of designer type cool (but the sort of artistic type cool – you know, the  ooo look at me, I’ve got a Che Guevara t-shirt on, but it’s done in Andy’s style type thing, which passed me by even when I was younger.

The part of the bar which we struggled to get to didn’t have any ale pumps near it so rather than ask the young pretty trendy barmaid what was on, I made up the order from what I could see. Sybil and Steve I put back onto Heineken, Big-J had moved onto Coke anyway so it was just 2 ½ pints of Blue Moon, which Ed has previously had on the tour but isn’t a brew I’ve tried.

Now I’m a fan of wheat beer but I’ve got to say this just didn’t float my boat. I’m also confused why it’s a slice of orange that the powers that be have decided should be plunked into this beer. If the fruit of choice was lemon or even grapefruit (actually I’m going to copywrite that thought) then you could at least understand the reasoning, in that the sharp acidity of the citrus fruit would slice through the floral nature of the wheat. But although orange is a citrus fruit it hardly a sharp one and when plunked into the beer becomes something for show rather than taste. I’d like someone to prove me wrong but you might as well put a glacé cherry on a cocktail stick in it for what it’s worth to me.

The loos are now a snack bar thingy

 

Anyway we squeezed our way past the young and trendy t-shirt wearing crowd to a place right by the gates of the Victorian loos and generally made jokes about Steve’s height (he’s got very soft curly hair…..)and had a Rolf Harris nostalgia moment. Ed looked confused and probably wished he was with the young and trendies……….

BGC really looks like he's just come out of the closet.

Before we left we remembered that the scan hadn’t been taken but I didn’t rate our chances of either finding the certificate amongst the crowd or asking someone who knew. But amazingly from our position outside the pub we spotted it, right on top of the bar. Squeezing our way back inside, past all the young, trendy and beautiful again we collared a likely looking barman and asked if we could get a scan. The chap couldn’t have been more helpful and retrieved the certificate to our scanning delight.

As I previously mentioned the sister pub to the Crown and Sceptre, the Green Man is just around the corner so it was but a short stagger to the next watering hole, which, as one might have guessed, was just as busy as the Crown and Sceptre. That said, just like the C&S the service was quick and friendly but again I found myself nowhere near the pumps. Again plumping for something a bit blindly I selected pints of Camden Town lager, thinking this would go down just as well with Steve and Sybil as it would with Ed and Pete (Big-J still coking it) – alas it didn’t. I thought it was alright, certainly more flavoursome than your standard lagers but the rest seemed to be struggling to drink it. As Steve and Sybil were ordered to come the right side of the drinking barrier outside Steve bravely mentioned to the Eastern European prison guard of a barmaid that “eeee, this Camden lager’s not very nice….” to which she curtly responded, “No, it’s nice beer!” and stomped off.

To be honest I think she had a point.

The Green Man

Amongst the round I’d also sneaked in a pint of Verdett ExtraWhite, which I shared around the group, much in the same way Ed’s penguin biscuits were also shared around, but I’ve got to say that this beer relies a little too much on it’s cool and groovy marketing than it’s taste. But hey, that’s just an opinion.

The certificate was easily findable, being pinned up on the wall although I had to hold up a candle to get enough light to scan it. It was only then that I glanced back at the bar and saw the huge list of ciders on offer and then I remember reading that the Green Man is a premier cider establishment. So we rather did it an injustice by not drinking the fruit of the apple whilst there. I’ve got both pubs marked down for revisit, one to drink cider and two, to do it on a quiet Tuesday afternoon or something – just sometime when I don’t feel like everyone is pointing to the hunch on my back and my ugly face.

So that should have been it for the evening. There was one other Cask Marque accredited pub in the area, the King’s Arms at the end of Great Titchfield Street, but again on the Google Street View tour, I’d dismissed this place as it looked very down at heel. But by now the drinking feeling was tingling so a “swift one for the road” was agreed upon and we entered the establishment, still looking rather ragged (the pub I mean, but probably we were also by this point), for a final beer.

Old fashioned till at the Kings Arms - The numbers spun round and everything! Just to the left you can see one final pack of Monster Munch.

Inside the change couldn’t have been more different from the Crown & Sceptre. Here we had glorious swirling patterned carpets, velour bar stools and book laden book shelves. This was a real old man’s pub and I loved it. The chap behind the bar was dressed for the occasion, white vest with half zipped tracksuit top, pints of Doombar (followed by pints of Purity Mad Goose) were ordered and then Big-J spotted the catch of the evening – Monster Munch! We bought up ever pack the pub had (ok, they only had 6 packs) but we bought them all and had another nostalgic moment but this time flavoured with pickled onion and roast beef.

And then just to top things off, we found the certificate again making this one of those very rare nights out where we captured a scan in each and every pub. And just to double top it off, the King’s Arm’s certificate was also due to expire that very night too.

So who suggested this would be a let down after “Go to Jail”? Every night on the tour is a top night!

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited  = 161

Paleo Fail! = Aussie Pete! I saw you! You had a Maccers!

Paleo Fail! = Yeah alright, shut up. I had BK at Paddington – and hey we both had Colonel the next day as well………

Next Stop = Oxford Street

Go to Jail

And so we reach another corner of the board and one of the most iconic of all the Monopoly squares, “Go to Jail”. Whilst some of the squares have caused problems when trying to think of a suitable place to visit, (Water Works springs to mind here), this one was a real no-brainer. Just consider any newsworthy criminal case and you’ll have an image of some news reporter standing outside of the Old Bailey whilst someone who’s just won their trial comes out arms aloft from the court rooms. Those who aren’t so fortunate and get to “go to jail” aren’t seen of course.

Setting the scene.

But before we describe the actual visit, a couple of bits of exciting beer and pub news:

When I started getting into the beer blogging scene one of the first people I came into contact with was a young chap by the name of Nathaniel Southwood. Now Nate, or NateDawg has been mentioned on this blog before but just as a word of explanation, I think most people in the beer blogging world know Nate. He’s certainly not shy in his opinions (I mean his twitter account has the descriptive line “Sublimely self-righteous arrogant bastard”) and he frequently uses Twitter and his blog to generally get sweary about beer. But all that said I’ve never actually met the person behind the swears. But as luck would have it, he informed me that he was down in London for a craft beer festival and asked if it would be possible for him to join the tour. Seeing as the only criteria I have for coming on the tour is that you at least try beer this also was a no-brainer.

I do have to mention that when I told the rest of the tour that Nate was coming along they split into two camps; one being one that were convinced that I was on some sort of internet blind date and was possibly on a promise. The other being that Nate would turn out to be a stalking internet cannibal type and we’d all end up with various bits of us being boiled in a cauldron. I guess only time would tell!

The other bit of news was that when organising this week’s tour I’d planned to end up at the Viaduct Tavern on Newgate Street and further reading about this pub revealed that it was built near to the site of the old Newgate Jail (which is where the Old Bailey now stands) and in their cellars were actual original holding cells. And further good news told me that the pub was pleased to show the cells to interested visitors. I got in touch with the pub and exchanged emails which a nice lady called Carina who said it would be no trouble to show us the cells.

Still from the "Murder on the Victorian Railway" program. The Viaduct Tavern is on the left.

 

Then in a twist of coincidence I was watching a BBC2 program this week called Murder on the Victorian Railway, all about the very first murderon the railways lines. The program started and finished with an old Victorian photo of Newgate prison and there in the corner one can see the very same Viaduct Tavern. Add to this I’d also quite innocently said in passing to Gemma that she should encourage the girls to all wear stripes (like a cartoon burglar – not like a tiger or something) and later found out that they were actually going to do so. (See, you can’t trust these women who keep a box of fancy dress odds and ends in the office.) So just to make sure I wasn’t caught out I bought myself a mask and a stripy shirt of my own. The mask cost £6.50! Seriously, the shop owner should have put it on when he rang it through the till!

So onto the tour, which was off to a slow start as once again we were left waiting for the tarting up of both the ladies and Spiky Haired Ed leaving the BGC beeping his mental car horn in the foyer of the offices. I should take a quick moment to do a roll call before going any further; regulars Aussie Pete, Charlie, Buddy Rob and the aforementioned Ed were all aboard and making a welcome third appearance was Gemmaration Game and a second appearance for Jackanory Nicole. But there were three new caps as Gemma’s recruiting drive had once again worked wonders, signing up Carole, Lucie and Isabelle. (Seriously, I’ve had it with the stupid nicknames – When I introduced NateDawg someone actually asked me what his nickname was going to be. Yeah, hello, NateDawg, it’s in the name yeah?)

Anyway with NateDawg already trying to ring me we were finally on course with a short tube ride to Blackfriars and a walk past one of our earlier victories the Blackfriar pub. On this occasion though we were going a little further down Queen Victoria Street and taking a sharp left hand turn into St Andrew’s Hill and the first pub of the evening, the very curiously named Shaws Booksellers. The name apparently comes from the Merchant-Ivory adaption of 'The Wings of the Dove' where the pub was dressed as a booksellers………………yeah, I’m no wiser as well!

Outside Shaws Booksellers - Still don't know what that's all about.

 

As we’ve come to expect on most evenings now, the place was rammed full and claiming a free space to stand for the 10 of us was not easy. What was easier though was getting served especially as the order was pretty easy, 7 pints of London Pride (yep, the girls had upgraded to pints) which meant there was only Buddy Rob on his second choice of Peroni, Spiky Haired Ed on a less well known Czech larger, Litovel and Lucie on the cider. I did make an effort to ask the barmaid about the Cask Marque certificate but again it was one of those moments where I was speaking one language and barmaid just wasn’t listening.

Meeting of two great beer minds - I'm on the right!

 

I then got back in touch with Nate and discovered that he was in the pub next door, not that it took him long to finally find us and join Ed on the Litovel. Swift introductions were made and I think the group’s fears were generally put at ease and none of us would be waking up in a ditch minus our livers. Nate actually turned out to be quite a softly spoken mild mannered chap with no sign of his ranting twitter persona although there were a couple of whispered swears placed into the conversation.

Deciding not to linger at Shaw’s Booksellers we took the quick walk up Creed Lane and crossed Ludgate Hill (look right for a great view of St Paul’s Cathedral) to the second pub of the night, the Taylor Walker owned Ye Olde London.

This time the ladies secured a couple of tables by the windows whilst I, ably assisted by Nate put in the order from the rather harassed and overworked barman, struggling to keep things running all on his own. The order was quite simple again though, 7 pints of Woodfordes Wherry (more on that later) Lucie swapped with Isabelle on the cider role, Nate had a very cold pint of Guinness, Rob got his bottle of Bud and Ed had a pint of something yellow.

I was quite happy with the Woodfordes Wherry, not a drink you see that often (although quite often in Taylor Walker places) but it wasn’t going down at all well with the girls. Watery was the most heard complaint and Nate backed up this feeling by explaining how this was the beer he cut his ale drinking teeth on, but one he has now happily left behind. Rob and Ed had escaped to the downstairs bar where there was not only a pool table but also the Cask Marque certificate, meaning all us scanners had to go down to scan but then rush back up to get a signal to register the scan. Still it worked and Nate managed to break his Cask Finder duck.

Leaving Ye Olde London - I told Nicole her coat would clash with the pub but whould she listen.....

 

Leaving the pub after the mandatory photos, it was the very next right turn into Old Bailey itself and after walking up the street past the Central Criminal Court I pointed out the church of St Sepulchre which according to the BBC2 program was where the public gallows were. And did you know that in the children’s nursery rhyme when the “bells of Old Bailey” are mentioned – It is these church bells they’re referring to. And there opposite the church was our final port of call the Viaduct Tavern.

The lovely Carina - organiser of all amazing pub things.

 

My book of “London’s Best Pubs” describes the Viaduct as having a ceiling of “ornate lincrusta” which is a mix of pressed paper and linseed oil, a fact I explained to Charlie but I don’t think he believed me. Anyway, whatever the ceiling is made from it’s certain a lovely pub and one that it’s good to see is flourishing in the hands of Fullers. It was pints of Seafarers all around and I was delighted to learn that the barmaid serving me was none other than the very Carina who I’d been emailing with. So this is the first pub where the tour had been welcomed and recognised, but more importantly she told us that there’d been a chap along shortly to show us around the cells.

Charlie and Nicole share a joke at my expense whilst the lincrusta ceiling goes unnoticed.

Whilst all this was going on, the rest of the scanners were desperately trying to scan the certificate which they’d found on the bar of the bar hatch. Thing was, this was an expired certificate and therefore wouldn’t scan. After several attempts at scanning Nate decided that perhaps it might be time to call it a day and who could blame him after drinking all day at the beer festival and then having to put up with us lot.

Sadly this meant he missed the tour of the cells which was next on the agenda. The bar chappy split us into two groups so firstly it was the blokes who descended the steep cellar steps into the basement. Obviously this is a working pub so it’s pretty understandable that the pub is using the cells as storage but there is one cell still with the ironwork in place, splitting the cell into the separate chambers for each prisoner. Although very interesting and quite a privilege to see such a thing, grim is about the most appropriate word for it. Us chaps then retired back to the bar (for a sneaky round) whilst the girls took their tour in the cells.

Dodgey character found lurking in the cells.

 

The evening then turned rather odd as the beers started to make their present felt. Firstly there were all sorts of fun and games with the mask as it was passed around. I never knew Charlie had such amateur dramatic tendencies as he put on a very convincing act of trying to pick Gemma’s handbag.

 

 

 

Oh the fun you can have with £6.50

 

Lucie seemed determined to find food of some sort and the offer of crisps and nuts from the bar didn’t seem to be hitting the right notes. I tried to cheer her up with some schoolboy French but apparently being able to ask when the tourist information centre is, is no substitute for hunger so it was probably just as well that Isabelle interrupted proceedings with a shriek as she spotted her daughter in the pub.

The evening then for a moment became a very strange version of “This is your life” as various friends of her daughters were wheeled in to meet us all – “And here, you’ve never met him in your life before is Greg who used to be at uni with your daughter’s boyfriend! He used to study economics but dropped out and is now running a pet shop and you’ve never seen him ever ever ever, it’s Ben the pet shop man!”

There was also a very strange moment where I seemed to be encouraging Carole to tell me to “Feck Off!” in a rather abusive manner. In fact the more abusive, the more I seemed to enjoy it. Whether this says more about me or more about Carole’s willingness to curse and swear I’m really not sure – Perhaps I should introduce her to Nate – Oh I already did, didn’t I.

Poor Rob! And Gemma, if your looking for Ed's manly chest.....it was stolen by that bloke in the mask.

Finally I remember the end of the evening finished (honestly it seemed to go on forever this time and the kitty never seemed to get any smaller – it was one of the cheapest nights on the tour) with me adopting another scarf, black this time, and there is photographic proof of this, but I also remember Ed chasing after me after I left and retrieving something. The scarf never made it home anyway – I did though, just, but it was touch and go especially when I thought travelling masked on the tube might be a laugh………on my own. I’m a sad little man.

Number of Cask Marque Pubs visited  = 156

Best night so far? = Oh it’s got to be up there with them. Worth it for the mask pictures alone.

Hangover? = Do you know what, none at all! It must have been the coffee and fruit cake from Tutti Frutti in Reading station. They got to see the mask as well!

Next Stop = Regent Street