51.
Twenty-three Pubs in Hillingdon and Uxbridge,
During one idle moment in the pub a few
months before, Richard Bradshaw and I had struck upon some kind of ridiculous
plan to go drinking in the Uxbridge and Hillingdon
areas, seeing as both were equally accessible in a journey-time-wise sense of
the word, from Oxford and Cheam. We had decided to meet at the Swallow next to Hillingdon station and I wasn't that late for a change. The
Swallow is not a very nice pub, and on entry it gave the air of not being
overly welcoming. A couple of pissed old men were sat on some old split leather
seats, whilst in the back was a pool table obstructing the way to the gents'
(which did not have a shitter, so there must have
been another can in there somewhere but I wasn't about to explore). Richard and
I discussed the plan of action whilst I tucked into some Ansells
bitter, which was actually quite reasonably priced. Despite the fact that it
was a bit of a hole, it was still pleasing to pay this place a visit the amount
of times I've passed it.
Pushing on, we found a brisk walk ahead of
us down some very suburban roads and via a chip shop to the Hillingdon
Arms which is a big estate pub with a playground in the garden. There was no
beer at all, and it was the sort of place where young families might go for a
late Sunday lunch. The toilets got a crap mark too as the ones I tried were
closed. And the Fosters was very gassy. Another bit of
a walk followed to yet another disappointing pub, the Turk's Head, which again
had no beer on. Things looked up a bit though as there were a few redeeming
features, including Video Killed the Radio Star playing on Classic VH1
on a TV in the corner. But there was also a bloke drinking in there who looked
like the ratty one from East 17.
Just up the road on a busy dual
carriageway is the Fullers pub the Prince of Wales. It has quite a traditional
look to it and actually did real beer - a reasonable half of London Pride,
though this was the only variety available on our visit. The pub has a public
and a lounge bar which are completely separate and the overall atmosphere is
quite cosy. However the clientele on our visit was not
up to much. There was a nearby table of twats spilling their beer everywhere,
and they weren't even youths, and a rough middle-aged woman - mutton dressed as
lamb - with a revealing skirt playing on the fruit machine. We decided not to
dwell too long here. Real beer was most certainly off the agenda in the next
pub, a Mr Q's called The Vine at Coney Green which
was really quite busy with lush boys drinking beer and watching Scotland. It
was a typical Mr Q's with pool tables of many colours, fruit machines and bright decor. Fortunately the
beer was reasonably priced, and there was a barmaid, called Anita according to
the till display. Mind you, I'd still not choose to go back there.
Apart from, for obvious reasons, the Wetherspoons, the best pub of the day by far was the Load
of Hay in Villiers Street south of Uxbridge. This is
an excellent, unspoilt cosy
pub where I should think thirty-somethings rub
shoulders with old men. After all, there can't be anything wrong with a pub
that has a cribbage knock out tournament kicking off
at 9pm on Thursdays. There's something traditional and very special about this
pub that I can't quite put my finger on; I suppose it might be the fish tank on
the windowsill or the low beams. The main part of the pub is at the back; you
have to walk through a small from bar to get to it. And it's well worth the
effort. There were four exceptional beers on: London Pride, Wychwood
Wicked Witch, Grand Union One Hop Crystal (tasted of Turkish delight) and
Cottage's Southern Bitter, which you could wash down something from the
extensive pub grub menu with. An excellent array. We
could have settled all evening, but had an agenda to keep to, so went on our
way. Oh yes, and the toilets deserve a mention because they've got some very
nice hand cream.
Across the road was another back street
traditional pub, the deathly quiet Militia Canteen which was a Greene King and
was selling IPA and Abbot. Still, good for a quiet
pint, and the toilets were very traditional although the beer was expensive. In
the ante-room before the toilets is a dart board and a
most interesting pair of seats against a wall with a small table separating
them. It's very dark and wooden in there, so isn't as much fun for the evening.
Unless you like bar snacks and toasties.
Retracing our steps a bit took us to the faux-traditional Cowley Brick, a
lively pub with white artexing filling in the gaps
between 'timber' beams and a brick bar. It wasn't very special, and we had to
resort to Courage Best.
By far the shittest
pub on the crawl was the dire Chiltern View. It was empty yet you couldn't get
to the bar as all the locals were sitting there yapping away in common voice,
in the way. There wasn't any proper beer anyway, so we left quickly. Of note,
we didn't actually have to go to the gent's to rate them - they could clearly
be seen from the bar. In fact the pub has two rooms, both plain, spartan white-painted affairs about the size of a front
room. Notably also is the sign which is an old Morlands
one, which should have been eradicated a while ago. Some dog was sprawled on
the floor licking its balls too. We thought that we'd have a fair walk to the
next pub, but not so! The Lord Hill was a reasonably friendly place where we
managed to get a couple of games of pool in whilst watching the closing stages
of
A little further up on the same road was
the Culvert, which Richard espied had neon signs illuminated despite it only
being about 6pm. Our suspicions were confirmed when we saw a couple of camp
barmen and a couple of specimens which turned out to be a couple of butch
lesbians, and there were some Lesbian/Gay/Bi posters up too. Despite this, and this applies to many gay pubs, the atmosphere was
very good even with only a few people present, and the jukebox was excellent,
as we perched on some high stools to watch the videos. Appropriately tATu were on the play list. I didn't recall the decor too
well - it was quite dark and not anything special. And there wasn't any real
beer either.
On the main Rockingham Road was the Pipemakers Arms, a strange place which also doubled as a
Chinese take-away/restaurant, so you could have a pint whilst waiting for some
Egg Foo Young. Pleasingly, it's otherwise very
average interior was livened up by draught London Pride and Adnams
which was most unexpected, but apart from these two gems I can't see why anyone
would choose to drink here. A little further up was the General Eliot, and
after a large hiatus a decent barmaid! Beer was looking up too as they had
Bass, London Pride and Adnams. The interior of the
pub was neat, slightly foody, though unremarkable,
but the toilets did have a very deep trough. A wonderful trough was noted in
the gents at the Dolphin, our next port of call. It is an architypal
'Isle of Dogs' trough ie. It is on three sides (a
peninsular in a river of piss if you will). The only other good thing about the
pub was that it is a QPR pub. I found out that they'd stuffed Plymouth 3-0
earlier that day; a fat bloke confirmed this fact whilst we were having a game
of pool. On other fronts it was a little disappointing being a bit shabby and spartan. From the taste of the Brakspear,
the only real ale, I don't think that they shift much of it either.
The Old Rockingham Arms was also nearby, a
strange pub that had made a bit of an attempt to be trendy, and the decor was
quite neat and pine, and I believe that there were a
few sofas dotted around the place. However, only IPA was available. Nonetheless
the atmosphere was quite pleasant. After a bit of a walk round the Uxbridge
gyratory system we arrived at the Swan and Bottle, a branch of the Chef and
Brewer chain. Typical foody furnishings and atmosphere
were the order of the day, though in some respects we were pleasantly surprised
as both Old Speckled Hen and London Pride were available and actually tasted
quite nice. Amusingly, there was a cautionary notice warning people that the
game dishes might contain shrapnel, which is not a warning that I am used to
seeing.
A cute barmaid greeted us at the Crown and
Treaty just across the road - we had seen her through the window on the way to
the Swan and Bottle. The Crown and Treaty is another pub that has taken a
slightly trendy route though has retained some of its original charm and as a
result this does not encourage people who are absolute shits to drink there. In fact on a bus passing the window we noted a set of youths in
light coloured bomber jackets and baseball caps, and
no doubt, white trainers on their way to some dire watering hole for some lager
or alcopops. Beer didn't really matter, though
it was Flowers and London Pride but this was of little consequence. Onto the
High Street we went to the Good Yarn, a Wetherspoons
establishment which customarily had a large flotilla of reasonable barmaids. We
got an awkward seat in the raised rear area, since the pub was quite packed
with cheery youngsters. Beers available on our visit were - Highgate
Fox's Nob, Ridley's Old Bob, Directors, London Pride,
Abbot, Spitfire and Hook Norton Best. Typical Wetherspoons otherwise.
Swinging via the Crown and Sceptre, we couldn't get in because a couple of heavies on
the door would not let us in as we were wearing trainers. What an absolutely
shit rule, completely arbitrary, and with no point. Not all tossers
wear trainers, and not all trainers are worn by tossers.
Really what is the point? Anyway, we went to the Ostler
instead which was a very lager-y establishment with no beer. Quite bright,
lively, noisy and reasonably traditional, but the punters were not as
discerning. We drank up quickly and left, there were few pleasant features to
keep us happy. Time was marching on, but we still managed a swift half at a
lively branch of Hog's Head, with excellent beer. It looks a little
All-Bar-One-y in there (pine, light floors etc), but the beer is loads better
and actually our ones were superb. Choices were London Pride and Deuchars IPA. Lack of seats was an annoyance though which
forced us to sup up sharpish.
Back out onto the gyratory system we
encountered the Gardener's Arms, a cliquey locals' alehouse which only did
Courage Best, and it wasn't that cheap. The interior was reasonable I suppose,
but the toilets were a job to find even though the pub was almost empty.
However, a very good selection was on the jukebox including 10CC I'm not in
Love and some U2, which by this stage brought us out in fits of laughter as
we had seen a U2 bus earlier in the day, and shouted 'With or without you' at
the driver for no apparent reason. Penultimate pub of the tour was Auberge which we entered in a very Chris Rea sort of mood.
This is really a sophisticated pizza place, but with a decent sized bar area. I
had a half of Hoegaarden which was OK (not the price
though), and I also noted that Leffe and Stella were
on but no proper beer. Toilets were a bit of a trek but well worth the visit.
Unless you are having a pizza though, there's not a lot of point in sitting on
one of their hard-arsed chairs for any length of
time.
With a small window of beer drinking
opportunity left, we made the Three Tuns our last
pub, and we ended on a high. This is a traditional, lively, town centre boozer
filled with reasonable characters and a good range of ales (6X, Adnams, Pedigree and Tetley). There was a foreign barmaid
who Richard wanted to take a photo of, but she declined, so we lamented this
disappointment whilst finishing our beers and making our way back to Uxbridge.
I got a nice free ride on the train to Hillingdon,
whence I dashed across to a waiting Oxford Tube, and had quite a nice sleepy
trip back to my bicycle which was waiting at Queens Lane, to return me home
without mishap (though stopping at the Geology department to sign up for
Christmas dinner again). Richard had a similarly easy trip and reported arrival
back at c. 1.30, and in good spirits as he'd won £12 on Richard McFadden
being first goal scorer in
Dan
Lovegrove
dan@doctor-lovegrove.com
Last updated 28th November 2003.