Wednesday 27 November 2019

From a mush in Shepherd's Bush


After a slack period at the beginning of November, when I was scratching around for things to write about, I’m suddenly inundated with topics stories and ideas to regale you all with. So where to  start?

I probably won’t be able to squeeze out another post  about Shifnal. I've picked out the highlights and  Pub Curmudgeon has followed suit with part one of a much more comprehensive account of our day out in Shropshire. In addition, I expect Retired Martin won’t be far behind, with a rather more off-beat account of his own, but there is mileage in a particular beer that we encountered on our visit, but I’ll leave that for another time.

Last weekend was a busy one, so it’s just as well I didn’t over-indulge in Shifnal. Saturday saw the Bailey family making our first foray into Nando’s, for some of the chain’s renowned peri-peri chicken. Our visit to their Sevenoaks restaurant, was well timed, as there were a couple of spare tables when we arrived, so without having to wait we were able to participate in, and enjoy the whole Nando’s experience. 

Sunday saw son Matthew and I heading up to London, as I’d promised him a day out in the big city. For my part, I wanted to check out up and coming Chinese mobile phone manufacturer Xiaomi, who have an outlet (Mi Store) in the Westfield Shopping Centre. So after taking the train to central London, we headed over to Shepherd’s Bush.
 Xiaomi’s store is modelled on  the Apple iStores, and it provided the perfect opportunity to view and try out their range of Mi phones at first hand. I liked what I saw, but resisted the temptation to make a purchase there and then, preferring instead to reflect and pause over a few more reviews before committing my hard-earned cash.  So after a coffee at Waitrose, and a walk past Shepherd’s Bush Market - closed on a Sunday, we headed off in search of a pub where we could have a drink and grab a bite to eat.

Brew-Dog have an outlet nearby, but as I was in search of something more traditional, and less “cutting edge,” we jumped on a tube with the intention of stopping off at Hampstead. A brisk walk across  the  Heath would see us at the Spaniard's Inn; one of the most famous pubs in London, and an establishment I had wanted to re-visit for quite some time.

Our journey involved a couple of line changes, but once on the Northern Line, we sped north towards  our destination. We walked up to the Whitestone Pond, a feature I remember vaguely from childhood. It was a popular place for young boys to sail their model yachts, although on Saturday it looked sad, unloved and partially obscured by reeds growing around the edge.

These days I expect young boys (and girls), have much more exciting electronic devices to keep them entertained, but I am possibly being unkind about the pond, in view of the dull, overcast and slightly chilly weather experienced over the weekend. For those of you who like statistics, the pond occupies the highest point in London, which seems strange for a water feature. Even stranger is the fact that the pond is a naturally occurring "dew pond." It was  adapted over time as a place for watering and washing horses, with ramps constructed at either end so horse and carriages could drive straight through.

Also looking unkempt and definitely un-cared for was the imposing bulk of Jack Straw’s Castle, another of Hampstead’s famous old pubs, which overlooks the far end of Whitestone Pond. Regrettably the pub closed several year ago, and has been converted into apartments and a gym. With Hampstead Heath on the doorstep, who needs a flaming gym?

The current  building dates from 1964 when, what was once an attractive old coaching inn was rebuilt, after sustaining bomb damage following an air raid in 1941. I remember my parents and grandparents, who all lived and grew up just off the nearby Finchley Road, discussing the new pub. My grandfather, who was a dedicated pub man, was not impressed by what he saw as a trendy place, aimed at the youth market.

When I was able to pass myself off as being old enough to drink, I called in at Jack Straws Castle, to have a look for myself. My grandfather was right of course, but to an impressionable 17 year old, the pub seemed somewhere to aspire to; especially as it was full of attractive young ladies. I'm pretty certain  that it had several bars, some of which may have been upstairs, and I also think it may have served keg Worthington E – even back then I paid attention to what beer was on tap!

I digress, but trendy or not, it is sad to see a famous old London pub and local landmark reduced to a series of posh pads for Hampstead poseurs and a gym for those with an aversion to fresh air!  We walked along Spaniard’s Road, which skirts the western edge of Hampstead Heath, taking care to avoid straying into the cycle lane and getting mown down by over-enthusiastic cyclists. (There were still some fresh air devotees around!)

We eventually reached the Spaniards Inn, an attractive Grade II listed building which is said to date back to 1585. With its white weatherboard clad exterior, and its cosy interior featuring several separate rooms, with associated wooden beams and low ceilings, the pub oozes history. As might be expected the inn is mentioned by Charles Dickens, and features in a scene from the  “Pickwick Papers.”

It was also oozing with fully paid-up members of the “Hampstead set.” I half expected this on a Sunday afternoon, although the pub and garden were not as crowded as they might have been on a warm summer’s day. I wanted Matthew to experience another of London’s famous old pubs for himself – he has previously visited several others with me, and I also wanted to reacquaint myself with this classic old inn, that I last visited in 2005.

We managed to get a drink without any trouble, but there wasn’t really anywhere to sit, and without a table, it wasn’t worth us ordering food. What we saw being brought out did look good, but with fish & chips twice the price I paid in Shifnal two days previously, I didn’t mind waiting for my food until later on.

There was a “safe” range of cask ales on sale (see photo), so I opted for the least well-known one in the form of Session IPA, a 4.6% pale coloured  beer from West London-based Reunion Brewery. Matthew went for Hells Lager from Camden Brewery. My pint tasted rather good, but I don’t know how much the  round came to, as Matthew was paying.

Not wishing to hog  the bar - never a favourite position of mine anyway, we decided to go outside.  It was quite mild for the time of year, and there were lots of customers taking advantage of this. We only stayed for one, as we wanted to find somewhere to eat, but it was fun indulging in spot of people watching. We caught the number 210 bus, from the stop directly opposite the pub, and this took us down into Golders Green.

From there, it was the Northern Line, back into Central London. After alighting at Tottenham Court Road, we strolled along towards Holborn and the restored Victorian splendour of the Princess Louise.

I wrote briefly about our visit ion my previous post, but we were to be equally disappointed in our quest for food as we were for Samuel Smith’s Yorkshire Stingo. The cask OBB was excellent though, and the brewery’s “own brand” crisps help ward off the hunger pangs for a short while.

It was Matthew’s turn to suggest our next, and final port of call. Somewhere where, our hunger could finally be assuaged. He came up with a good one, but more about that next time, in my final post about our day in the big city.

3 comments:

Dave said...

I enjoy reading these father and son outings. They seem, like RM’s, a really nice event.

retiredmartin said...

Like Dave, I'm a fan of your family travel posts, and your rants about gyms.

Paul Bailey said...

Thank-you Dave and Martin, glad you’ve been enjoying these posts.

I don’t always get out as often as I would like, so when I do it’s nice to include the family, wherever possible. They sometimes make jokes about “dad’s adventures,” and the amount of research I do (well, mostly!), to make them run smoothly. They don’t always, of course, which is what makes them more interesting; even if it does provide an excuse for the odd, friendly dig!

Gyms are a pet hate of mine, particularly the one I walk or cycle past to get to the local park. It has large, plate-glass windows – probably in a bid to attract gulible new members. Watching people walking or running on a treadmill, when they could be out doing the same in the fresh air, does make me wonder. But then, where could they show off all that expensive “designer” gym gear, apart from in front of other “gym bunnies!”