I went on a pub crawl last night, but with a difference. Generally there is a massive divide between pubs-for-locals and pubs-for-others and despite the quite high number of boozers in this city there are many I pass regularly but never been in. If pubs are the yardstick by which modern British culture can be measured, be they expensive chrome-and-glass dance clubs catering for the ultra-hip; the earthy warm CAMRA recommended ale houses with Glenlivet mirrors reflecting brown wainscotting; the alcopop infused corporate-chain of generic pubs for youthful binge-drinking; tacky Irish-themed bars with all kinds of crap like bicycles and fishing rods glued to the ceiling (making it just like being in Ireland with the gravity turned off); or indeed, the broken glass and faulty fruit-machines of the rougher establishments.
Anyway, we visited several of these so-called 'Rough' pubs and found it was all a complete myth. They're all lovely. The locals a little rowdy but the bar staff friendly (and probably grateful to suddenly have 15 or so paying customers all arrive AT ONCE) and even if the décor is a bit circa 1983 (
This chap was my favourite) they're much better than your average generic boozer. Off the beaten track is better. I wasn't even stabbed once! (a personal best).
Anyway, you don't care about this. Here is a picture of me I wasn't aware was being taken at the time:
Evidently thinking SRS thoughts.