Ah, the English public house. What an wonderful institution it is. Particularly when it's a Ye Olde English Pub, as in this example from the village of Witney near Oxford:
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| Spotmatic/28mm, FP4+ on Foma 133 paper |
I tend to be a bit sceptical when I come happen upon a Ye Olde pub, but in this case, it's the real deal. It was the original home of Robert Brakspear (of Brakspear bitter fame) who brewed here around 1769. Now it's owned by Greene King (a chain) but it gets good reviews for it's ambience and food. I didn't go in, but captured the moment as I passed by. The couple walking along on the right were just in the perfect place to give that part of the shot some interest.
English country pubs are hard to beat. When I lived in deepest darkest Somerset way back in the mid 1980s there were some absolute beauties. Unspoilt by TVs and piped music, just good convivial surroundings, with beer and locally made cider and usually a skittles alley out the back. In summer the beer gardens would be popular places, particularly on a weekend when you could get a great Ploughman's Lunch served with warm English beer. I know - who wants warm flat beer on a hot day? I must admit it took a lot of practice on my part before I caught on to it, but now, when I find myself in England and fancy a beer I'll always go for an English Real Ale, ideally direct from the cask in a straight glass.
Looks like a great place. I sometimes went to a place when I was at uni called The Rose and Thistle. It was quite small, but there would be a guy playing music on guitar and the bar and tables were made of wood. I went back a few years later and everything had been replaced by vinyl. It was more brightly lit with fluorescent lighting, the little stage was gone, music came over some speakers, and the people there looked more depressed. But maybe that was the lighting.
ReplyDeleteThat tends to be my experience too, Marcus. An old student haunt in Bath was the Crystal Palace. I ventured in a few years ago but it wasn't the same place at all - gone terribly upmarket, with eye-watering prices for the tourist trade. I happened to mention to the young lady serving behind the bar that it was thirty-odd years since I last had a pint here. Wrong thing to say - she gave me a quizzical look and disappeared pronto to the other side of the bar. I finished my beer as quickly as I could and beat a hasty retreat.
DeleteShe was probably expecting stories about how things aren't as good as they used to be and ran away. :)
DeleteProbably. Dreading the 'Eh luv I remember when it was 30p a pint in here...'
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