Edinboro Castle

Pub 77. The Edinboro Castle, 30th July 2012

The Edinboro Castle is a poncy pub with poncy interior decor and full of poncy people. Somebody else may well say it's a stylish cool pub with stylish cool decor and stylish cool people. So it's horses for courses. But at somepoint - probably when somebody decided to change the name from the "Edinburgh Castle" to the "Edinboro Castle", it became poncy. The other give away is that with their fish & chips (beer battered haddock and "skin-on" chips???) they don't do mushy peas. They do "crushed peas". See what I mean?

The range of ales is ok. I had a 1/2 Wandle. The barstaff were slow and seemingly wanted to be somewhere else. The oddest thing is though my beer came in what looked like an unmarked spirits glass. Although I am sure it was half a pint, as otherwise it wouldn't be legal! It wasn't full anyways mind you. The worst thing is that with my friends' orange juice and pint of Guinness it made it incredibly difficult to carry all 3 glasses. All in the name of ponciness you see!

We ordered some food and although I'm sure they'd be flattered if you called this place a gastro-pub, it wasn't really that good. I got the beed pie, with a little bit of change from £11. It was bog standard pub grub. Very nice, but nothing special. Microwaved veg, crushed pea mash (??) and a dish of beef stew with a puff-pastry lid. You can get the same thing in Wetherspoons for less than half. Add to that they brought the garlic bread starter at the same time as the main courses, and then when they cleared the table firstly of plates and then of glasses, on both occasions for no reason other than sheer laziness the girl asked us to pass her the bits and pieces she couldn't reach and couldn't be bothered to walk round all of 5 of 6feet to get them. Judging from her manners I think she thought she was doing us a favour.

The telly was on and was far too loud. Pubs showing "background telly", in this case the Olympic men's beach volleyvball, should take a look at American bars. They all have tellies on there, but with the sound muted and the subtitles on. All digital channels have subtitles - so publicans, put them on!

But for me the worst thing about here is the huge beer garden. I personally I don't like beer gardens much at all, but what can be wrong with that I hear you cry. Well, it's twice as big as the pub and when it's sunny the bar, which is pretty small and cramped when it's empty, can be literally 4 or 5 people deep, and barstaff noting being ones to rush it can easily take 15 or 20 minutes of jostling before you're served.

The Edinboro Castle ticks all the "nice" boxes, but I think everything about is poncy, contrived, superficial and self-satisfied. If you're any of those you'll probably quite like it. Of all the things I am, I don't think I'm any of them, so really don't like it here at all.

Forgetting the elephant?

Pub 76. The Elephant's Head, 14th July 2012.

It's well known what they say about the feats of memory that our favourite pachyderm's loaf is capable of, but I am ashamed* to say that I don't really remember much of this visit. It had been a long day, and the accompanying photos may well convince you if you are doubtful. I took the one above a day or two later.

I remember talking to an Italian girl whose name was 'Gas' or something like that. She seemed very nice, and the conversation was along the lines of "You fly back tomorrow? Cool - call me next time, we'll hang out!" or some such drivel. I'm sure there was rockabilly playing, and many mods with braces, skin-heads, red Dr Martens and sideburns (and that's just the girls), but that might be an assumed memory as it's generally the case here any given day.

But I'm acquainted with this place well enough to not really worry much about not recalling much. It's a fun, harmless stopping off point in the middle of Camden Town. It can very busy in the evening, but I've spent many a pensive peaceful afternoon here, nursing a pint, a fag and crossword, leaning against a radiator observing the hustle and especially the bustle outside through a rainy window.

They usually have a couple of ales on, but often the barstaff are very foreign - I've on more than one occasion asked for a pint of best only to be rewarded with a pint of Beck's. It's a bit of shame that they don't make more of their history, it being one of few buildings - and the only pub that I know of - with a connection to the once mighty Camden Brewery. The site of which is now the TV-AM egg-cupped MTV. Actually, there's at least two attempts to revive Camden Brewery's old beer recipes for the Olympics... I wonder what happened to them.

It's one of more bearable places on this stretch of the High Street. Take that how you will!

* - I'm not ashamed at all really.

Britannia class (BR class 7)

Pub 75. The Britannia, 14th July 2012.

Station pubs are funny old things aren't they? Completely landlocked... nary a glance of daylight, a place within a place. No regulars? No atmosphere? People only in there because they've got 1/2 an hour to kill before their departure? Surely they can't be very nice can they?

Well, no. But they're not supposed to be. But if you find yourself in Euston and want a drink, and haven't for some reason gone to the fine Doric Arch or the wonderful Bree Louise or even the pleasant Exmouth Arms, and if you should spy the Britannia (formerly Coopers - they got all patriotic and went off barrel makers) nestling above the indoor high street of the Euston forecourt then try it. The beers are good. Station pubs often have a good range on - competing with the inevitably rushed departure? Or safe in the knowledge that the trains and real ale Venn diagram has a large intersection?

People in here are a lively, excitable bunch. Presumably because they've just arrived somewhere exciting or they're just off to somewhere exciting. I would expect that it's constantly like a Friday early-evening here.

The view from the balcony takes some... matching. One for the people spotters, and departure board watchers. Oh - and the toilets are free here, I think they're 20p on the concourse.

Oh really? No sir, o'Reilly!

Pub 74. O'Reilly's, 14th July 2012.

The Old Farm House eh? I thought that Old MacDonald. Rebuilt in 1885 I think it says round the corner by a cute little statue of an owl. I wonder what the owl is about too. So much history here! And I've only just noticed that other little stucco figure on the top corner - I shall look closer next time I'm passing.

O'Reilly's is an modern old-fashioned Irish boozer. Bit rough, no frills, no ale, Sky Sports, no nonsense, fools not suffered - but very friendly. We all had a Guinness, it was that or keggy-flow John Smiths. We had a laugh with the barmaid, and a laugh with a couple of the regulars. That's the kind of place this is, for drinking and for a crack. Or craic or however they spell it.

The ceiling is marvellous, and clock behind the bar rather nice too. The barbershop-window-style portraits of Irish heroes are nice too, I think that's Bono and Jack Charlton either side of the clock. Neither of whom I who actually like to have to meet in a pub for real though.

Hopefully there'll always be enough no-nonsense boozers round here to keep this place open and keep it no-nonsense. I'm sure there were loads up & down Kentish Town High Road a few years back, but now they've all been gentrified up and gastro'd down and generally ponced about with and ruined.

Another nice feature and, as far as I'm aware, the only one left in the Borough is the jug & bottle window. (On the left hand side of the front above the litter bin). This would be where people, often house-wives, would come along for take-outs for 'im in-doors, or even bring a jug to top up for him - to keep him at home  and so a lady would not have to step inside a pub. Basically a convenient bit for off-licence sales. Read more here if you like. I'm sure there's no others left in Camden - prove me wrong!

And pop in O'Reilly's, it's ok if you don't require ale or anything la-di-da.

Update... 31st July. The stucco figure at the top is in fact a flower. Obvious really when you look at it. Nice touch though. And the lettings board seems to be just for a flat or space upstairs.

Golly goth.

Pub 73. The Devonshire Arms, 14th July 2012.

The Devonshire Arms, the Dev, the Hobgoblin, Camden's premier Goth venue, now with relaxed dress code (our neat jeans and hush puppies did cause a bat of mascared eyelid) - and now up for sale. Are the goths feeling the pinch?  Or perhaps Camden Town nowadays is less goth and more bemused £2-noodle munching teenage Spanish tourists with no intention of sitting in a gloomy mock Tudor pub 2 inconvenient minutes away from the high street? Or are themed pubs not the thing any more? Gastro people gastro! Or even more appealing another real ale pub! They're all the rage I hear.

You'll note the 'Real Ales' claim on the outside, that has long read 'Peal Ales' now just reads 'Ales', and so it was. The Hobgoblin was not on. A bottle of Theakston's Old Peculiar was recommended and accepted.

It was quiet, and the sun crept it but wasn't welcome. Although there was nothing menacing or unfriendly about the place to us non-goths, it just our sort of place. It was reminded me of my old students' union back many year ago.

They like their deathly idolatry do the goths, but they're not really a terrible bunch are they? We talked about having another pint, but there's no real reason to come here unless you want to be immersed in DARKNESS, but it's ok. Although I suspect the music could approach unbearable at times, I just hope it doesn't get sold and tarted up, or even worse joins the luxury flats that have popped up either side...

Yorkie - it's not for girls!

Pub 72. Cittie of Yorke, 6th July 2012

One of those pubs that claims to have been around since Noah... and who knows it probably has. That term 'on this site since...' is alway a bit vague - but I don't mind it at all. Still gives a nod that there's a pub and pubbing going on that spot since whenever they say. Since 1430 something or other anyways, but I'm not sure how much of that you can still see now. I don't think much of it is older than 20th Century. But who cares - it's a rather nice and 'unique' boozer. Not unique in a quirky or contrived way, just a bit not what you might expect should you walk in through the anticipation-building hallway for the first time.

The first thing that you notice is the huge barn or church like main bar. Very impressive. Then you see the Sammy Smith's pumps - oh! It's one of them. But I don't mind that a bit - tis good cheap ale, even though a Sam Smith's house can be a bit like a thinking man's Wetherspoons sometimes - and I suppose there's nothing wrong with that either. So anyways, a pint of bitter please young Ozzie / Kiwi / Saffa lady, or whatever you are. And stop smirking while I take a picture of the pumps, please? Some of us have nothing better to do. Thank you!

There's lots for the eye inside. Firstly the huge incongruous barrels over the bar. Why? What for? How..? Why? Never mind. The other nice feature are the boothes where a young couple can pop in for a bit of privacy, or perhaps legal eagles from the nearby inns of law can pop in and discuss detailed legalled issues, or exchange Bar gossip away from the bar?

My favourite thing though is the triangular fireplace - you can see it in the photo above. Completely free-standing, it has no flue! How does it work?? That's for you to figure out. I've never seen it lit on numerous visits though.

At the front there's a rather comfy, mock-tudor lounge / dining room area. Which would have been very nice had the two young ladies in the corner by the window had shut up for one millisecond. Now, I like girls as much as the next man, but why must they invade every moment of blissful silence with the most banal dimwitted claptrap? After a few minutes my annoyance passed from their mere talking, which I shouldn't really get annoyed about but to their topics of conversation. My mind was boggling at the trite & trivial hokum they'd decided to fill their afternoon with. Thankfully I've forgotten most of it, but a sudden and seemingly umprompted lengthy passage concerned whether they could keep the door next to them open somehow. One thought they could because she'd thought seen a hook, and the other just postulated how nice it would be if they could. At no point did either get up a inspect the door or indeed try to prop it open somehow. Then as suddenly as it appeared that topic disappeared and the next one came along, shoes or Olympic tickets or Madmen or some such insipid crossword-interfering nonsense. I should have gone back to the bar really. Once at 125ft the longest bar in Europe, not sure if it still holds that claim now though.

The Cittie of Yorke is nice. Go! Just don't sit near gossiping crones.

Wee Willy

Pub 71. King William IV, 1st July 2012

This appears - or I'm sure they'd like you to believe - to be Hampstead's only gay pub, with it's rainbow colours proudly displayed outside, like a Richard of York proud banner. Or should that be gay-friendly? What's the difference? Does one merely tolerate gays as the law says to, and the other encourages outrageous campery and rowdy same-sex intimacy? These are things to be kept at home, much like opposite sex intimacy. If you can't smoke in a pub, why should be able to kiss with a bit more gusto than it strictly necessary? 

In my admittedly limited experience of gayness, I'd say that all of Hampstead's pubs are most definitely gay-friendly, at least to say I've seen nothing to contradict that. Two of Hampstead's loveliest and most entertaining and charming characters ("Oh yeah, I used to know Helen Shapiro and the Krays very well...") are regulars up the road at the Duke of Hamilton. So what makes this place so gay? Cynical marketing? Or the place where the gays did have to come on the sly back when such things were frowned upon, and they still after the elusive pink pound? I have no idea.

Last time I came in though there was a wonderful old gay at the bar, he must have been 90, had knarled old hands so arthritic like ancient oak roots, he could barely hold his beer. But you could imagine him flamboyantly ruling Soho back in the 50s, with many a tale to tell.
On this occasion there were no such charms. The glass of Courage I had was awful. If I was going to stay I would have changed it, but the bar-staff are those bar-staff who seem very much more like bar-staff than pub-staff so I didn't really care to trouble him.

Inside feels odds. For a place so full of windows, it seems so dark. And for a place so big on the outside, it seems to small. Not small and cosy but small and cramped. Confined! Claustrophobic! C-this, c-that.
On the other hand, the beer garden is very nice. And that's coming from someone who doesn't like beer gardens very much. Although the red and black bulls on the wall outside made me wonder if I wandered out into a different pub's back yard.
Anyways, that's enough of that. I don't really like this pub - I'm sure some people do though, there were plently of folk in there - a mix of tourists waiting for the crepe queue outside to die down and a few chaps who looked like regular pub regulars. But I didn't finish my beer. I reckon there's much nicer places not far aware to go drinking - if you're gay, not gay, or even not sure.

The Rozzers

Pub 70. The Rosslyn Arms, 1st July 2012

You have to look carefully for the Rosslyn Arms, as it blends in so well with its fancy-smchancy neighbours you might just think it's another posh cafe.  The story is that a while ago the dentist next-door and regular in the Rosslyn Arms loved it so much he bought the company. Now he's sold it on, and it's closed. Just temporarily apparently, but I wouldn't bet against it being less pub and more gastro when / if it re-opens. Perhaps the new owners will notice that what Rosslyn Hill really needs is another expensive frock shop, or posh toy shop that only sells toys made out of wood. A pub, round here?!
I read that the dentist in question claimed that he'd created "neither a gastropub nor a traditional boozer". And last time I went in a few years back, that's exactly what I thought. I didn't like it though, and haven't been back since. And we'll think about going back at all after the doors are open again.

The Dartmouth Arms

Pub 69. The Dartmouth Arms, 24th June 2012.

Thanks Google!

Well here's a thing...! A pub visit where I failed to take a single photo, and to be honest one where I don't remember an awful lot. It was the football you see, England v. Italy. And we'd already been out all afternoon - you know how Sundays are!

It was full, and the beers were nice... I think. And a good choice... I think. And the staff were pleasant... I think. But the wallpaper was awful! Even worse than England's penalties.

THE PRINCESS... of Wales

Pub 68. The Princess of Wales, 16th June 2012.

No pub is complete without some Morris dancers!

The Princess of Wales in Primrose Hill used to be a fairly decent unpretentious boozer, called 'THE PRINCESS OF WALES' but now after what looked a huge tart-up, scaffolding and everything, it now seems to be called 'The Princess of Wales'. Which is most curious, you'd think with such a famous name as that they'd be flogging it to death. The sign used to show a nice portrait of a proud and elegant regal looking woman - Anne of Brunswick? Alexander of Denmark? or Mary of Teck even...? I don't know. Now it looks like it's from a cheap children's history book.

The beer choice was London Pride. The customer base seemed to be in pushchairs, accompanied by sun-tanned dads and yummy mums. But thankfully the London Pride was well kept.

The bar-staff were an interesting bunch, it's one of those places where they all have to dress in black.  Perhaps with 'The Princess of Wales' embroidered shirt, although I might have imagined that. Always a reason to suspect a pub's manager I reckon. I have nothing against black I hasten to add, but when I see bar-staff in a uniform it always makes me wonder "who is the manager trying to impress?" and "Why doesn't he have other things to worry about?" Worse though, they were very attentive when you didn't want them to be - ie. faux-patiently looking at you waiting for your order when you're stood at the bar with a 3/4 full pint glass but then doing their darnedest to chat or look out of the window or move glasses from one shelf to another when you're frantically waving a tenner at them. Such is the trouble with young bar staff. And the look that one gave me when I asked her if she wouldn't prop the door open! It was very cold and very windy, I wish the wind had changed at that very moment.

After a little while a band turned up. The drummer took forever to set his funny hi-tec drumless drumkit up, but once they started they were very pleasant in a light-jazz loungey kind of way. The singer even thrust the mic into my face when she caught me whistling along to the whistley bit of Sitting on the Dock of the Bay. I hope I impressed her!

The band were nice, and beer was passable. But the best thing about the place was the 'Oxford Sauce' on the tables. Ordinary brown sauce is not good enough here! But it was very nice, and I've gone a located a buctchers in Hampstead that stocks it. So thank you 'The Princess of Wales' for your saucey tip off.

Crafty

Pub 67. The Craft Brewing Company, Clerkenwell. 30th May 2012

I'd heard about the Craft Beer Company a while ago, but was put off visiting by the name. 'Craft beer' says to me lager & keg. Usually cold and gassy, so it has to be pretty exceptional to be worth a taste - too many excellent cask ales around these days to make 'craft ale' anything special. And also the name - instantly it smacks off contrived-wannabee hipness. If they'd kept the original name of the pub - The Clock House - I might have gone much sooner. But that's the thing with 'craft ale', it's as much about being trendy & cool as it is about decent beer, but also that's thing about judging a judge by his title, as it were. Their claim too on the website they aim to "create a unique beer experience" must be mentioning as it is patronising, nauseating and bollocks. Who writes this stuff?

Anywyas, the good news is though that there's much more here than just craft ale and only a bit of bollocks.

Inside you'll find 16 handpumps. Count them. Try a half from each and see how long you can go on counting them for. I went for a pint of Ilkey's Mary Jane at 3.5%. And very nice it was.

The interior is a bit dull, and for some reason they've opted for high bar stools around the walls - the bollocks I refer to.

Another nod to the hip kids, but to me it just looked stupid next to the windows and made the place feel a bit uncomfortable and out of proportion. At least it should make it easier for bag thieves. Such a shame, as the place would have been lovely once - as the old ceiling and chandliers show. But not a huge worry really. They looked very comfy, and I don't recall hearing any music in there though, which far outweighs any odd seating arrangements.  (Odd seating arrangements that I readily admit probably wouldn't bother another soul on the planet...)

There's an upstairs room too apparently, but I didn't make the trip. I took my pint outside to enjoy the sunshine and bustle of the Leather Lane market.

Despite my seating reservations (pun intended) this is a jolly good pub, good ale and nice staff. Ignore the crafty tag, and be assured that they haven't created "a unique beer experience" - just a nice pub with lots of beer. Far from unique, but pretty much all you need.