On the hottest day of the year - so far, and it's going to get even hotter as the weekend progresses, if the weathermen are to be believed, I found myself in that there
London place. I wasn't there to experience some of the capital's finest watering hole, but instead was there on a visit that can best be described as
"compassionate". Showing some care and support for an old friend/colleague who is currently languishing in a hospital bed, following a fall, and temporary loss of mobility. I'd been alerted to my friend's predicament, by a post on social media, so I got in touch with the lady responsible for the post, and she put me in the picture as well as forwarding the hospital details, plus other information necessary to facilitate my visit.
I won't go into too many details, as they're not really related to the narrative, and also, unless you knew the friend concerned, they wouldn't mean a lot, but the person I was visiting is someone that both
Eileen and I knew when we worked for a
Tonbridge-based, engineering firm, back in the
late 1970's-early 1980's. We'd lost touch over the years, and it wasn't until a chance remark, that I made on social media, that we learned that our friend was in hospital, recuperating from his fall, and waiting for a transfer into rehab, to enable him to get back on his feet again.
University College Hospital London, is the name of the large and impressive establishment where our friend is being looked after, and for the record this new state of the art hospital is situated on
Euston Road, close to
Warren Street and
Euston Square Tube stations, in other words, easily accessible.
I set out, on my own, as
Mrs PBT's isn't a fan of crowds, the heat, or of the
Underground system, and my plan was to visit our friend, before adjourning to a suitable hostelry or two, for some liquid refreshment. I wasn't planning on a lengthy hospital visit, as we'd been led to believe that our former colleague wasn't in a terribly good way. Fortunately, the situation was far better than I thought it would be, meaning a lot more time reminiscing, plus laughing and joking with the patient, and substantially less time to enjoy some of the public houses, I'd originally envisaged. All in a good cause, though, and something I wouldn't have missed for the world. I'd drawn up a potential list of six pubs that I wanted to visit, in full knowledge that three or possibly four would be a more realistic total.
I'd made a point of visiting the first hostelry straight away, in fact as soon as I'd exited a very busy,
Charing Cross station. My reason was the pub in question is small and, given it's historical connections, almost certainly on many tourist itineraries. An early visit, would help beat the crowds, and arriving just after 1pm, certainly proved a sensible move. The pub in question was the
Grade II listed,
Lamb & Flag, tucked away along a maze of alleyways and courtyards.
Reputed to have first been licensed in
1623, making it the oldest such premises in
Covent Garden, the building is one of the very few left in central London with a timber frame. It's not the easiest pub to find in
Covent Garden but that doesn't stop it becoming very busy at times, with office workers and visitors often spilling into the street summer and winter. However, unlike many other pubs in the area, being hidden away, means it is not quite as touristy, as some of the other, nearby pubs. On my journey up to
London, I was wondering whether or not I'd visited the
Lamb & Flag, in the past, but after navigating my way to that tucked away courtyard, memories of after-work pints, supped in that cramped space, outside the pub, came flooding back. even though those times would have been half a century or so previously.
The pub had been tied to
Courage, back then, but now the
Lamb is owned by
Fuller's and offers a wide range of the company's beers. The ground floor bar consists of two small, dark rooms with low beams, wood panelling and bare floorboards. The back room has a fireplace and plain wooden seats. There is also an upstairs bar and restaurant, where the main food service is available (table service only), but I have never ventured that far inside the pub. I managed to find a seat in the back room where I enjoyed a pint of
Seafarers, one of seven
Fuller's beers on sale -
Taylor's Golden Best, was the odd one out, but all too soon it was time to finish supping, and head off towards
University College Hospital. I ran into one of the inevitable delays that often besets the
Underground, but this one was due to a medical emergency, on one of the trains in front of ours.
I left the train at
Warren Street, and after heading up the escalator, found that directions to
UCH were clearly signposted. Now this is one heck of a building, with beds for
665 patients,
12 operating theatres, plus the largest critical care unit in the
NHS. There are around a dozen floors, with the ward that our friend was in located on the seventh. There was certainly an impressive view right across central London, from where his bed was situated, taking in the
Shard, the
London Eye, St Paul's cathedral, plus a host of other famous
London landmarks. At night, the view is illuminated by tens of thousands of lights, providing a spectacular visage across the capital. As our friend pointed out
"you'd pay a lot of money for a view like that!" It took some time to track down his location, as I hadn't received precise instructions from the lady who'd first alerted us to his plight, but with the help of a number of staff members, who checked various computer screens, I found him, sitting up in bed, looking slightly puzzled at first after seeing me walking round the corner. Once over his initial shock, and expressing how pleased he was to see me, we settled down and enjoyed a lengthy, and at times, quite humorous, catch-up.
Apart from urgently requiring a haircut, our former colleague looked quite well and certainly far better than I had expected. Amongst other topics the conversation turned to pubs, and reading my mind he asked would I be stopping off at a pub, on my way back to the station? Well, yes, of course, and in a moment of real serendipity the
Wenlock Arms cropped up. This legendary pub was on my list, so after hearing from my friend about the
Wenlock's come-back from the dead, I settled on the
Wenlock, promising that I would raise a glass to him, there. I said farewell and then navigated my way out of the hospital. Stepping out from the carefully controlled, air-conditioned coolness of
UCH, the heat hit me like a blast furnace, but despite the warmth, I was pleased to be on the move again. I headed down the
Euston Road, before cutting in at
St Pancras, and back down to the
Bank branch of the
Northern Line. I left the
Underground at
Old Street, and then it was over to my phone, and
Google Maps. Despite previous navigation problems, the App worked well on this occasion, even though it was further to the
Wenlock, than I remember. Thinking back, previous visits had usually been after the lunchtime sessions at
"London Drinker", an annual
CAMRA beer festival held at
Camden Town Hall, and an event I remember with fondness. I was normally accompanied by a couple of
West Kent CAMRA members, and had relied on their navigation skills in order to reach the
Wenlock. This time I was on my own, but following
Google Maps, I headed up along the
City Road, until I reached the
Eagle pub, immortalised in the rhyme,
"Pop goes the Weasel". ("Up and down the City Road, in and out the Eagle, that's the way the money goes, pop goes the weasel"). A right turn, followed by an eventual left, brought me to the
Wenlock, which had received a much needed, and long over due, makeover. My friend and I had joked about the former state of the pub's toilets, or at least the
Gents, but with a king-sized thirst, I was much more interest in topping up the tank, rather than draining it off!
All joking aside, the re-vamped
Wenlock certainly looked the part, and whilst it was obviously busy, the majority of customers were stood out on the pavement, enjoying the early evening sunshine. I made my way to the bar, where a choice of beers from either
Burning Sky or
Five Points, greeted me. Tempted initially by the former, I went for the latter instead, where a pint of
Five Points Best, proved the ideal thirst quencher. It's no exaggeration to say that this single-hop beer, brewed using
Fuggles grown locally in
Kent on
Hukins Farm, really hit the spot, so much so that it hardly touched the sides. Time for another, and this came in the form of
Railway Porter, also brewed at
Five Points, just a short distance away, in nearby
Hackney. As well as being thirsty, I was also hungry, having had nothing to eat since the two slices of toast and marmalade I enjoyed at breakfast. I knew from the pub's write-up, that the
Wenlock included
Pieminster Pies, in their lunchtime offer. Well they don't anymore, and seeing as the time was getting on for
5.30 pm, it was past lunchtime anyway. After seeing my look of disappointment, the kind lady behind the bar took pity on me, and said she could rustle up a toastie - cheese and ham, too, if I fancied one.
Did I fancy one? and does the
Pope pray? so of course,
"Yes please". My snack took a little time to arrive, but the wait was worth it, and the toastie brought back memories of why such items were once a pub staple, especially in pubs lacking cooking facilities. I didn't rush my beer this time, instead I savoured it, marvelling at how it complemented my tasty, pub snack.
It was time to go, I'd already phoned
Mrs PBT's and told her to leave my
"ready meal" curry in the oven, but not wanting it to be burnt to a cinder, and in the interests of marital harmony, I began the route march back to
Old Street Underground. Fortunately the connections were all good, both at
London Bridge, and also at
Tonbridge, where I managed to hop off the train and then, almost immediately, onto a bus that took me to the top of my road.
So, a good day out, with not only the chance of cheering up an old friend, but also with the opportunity of strolling around the nation's capital. There was a really nice, and almost joyful atmosphere pervading the city, that day, and this seemed to extend to virtually every pub, café or outside drinking place that I passed. It was possibly encouraged by the weather, but more likely it was down to people socialising, enjoying themselves and celebrating the end of the working week. It was a great feeling to be a part of this, and escape from the doom and gloom of recent headlines, largely dominated by world events that are often beyond our control
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