Mid afternoon in Birmingham, but where on earth is that pub?

You left me at the end of the last post, heading towards the first pub of a day, that had so far proven rather pointless. Chasing around for a pub that might or might not be opened, had wasted the best part of an hour, and after already having traipsed around a busy, and at times packed exhibition hall, I just wanted to take the weight off my feet and get stuck into a pint or two. 

Frustrated, is the word that best describes how I was feeling, but this was mitigated by the benign, warm weather and the general sense of bonhomie, that seemed to exude from the crowds walking around central Birmingham. It wasn't even a Friday, but the combination of sunshine, a sprinkling of stunning looking new buildings, plus the aforementioned populace at large, was sufficient to lift my spirits, following the earlier disappointment.

I'd already decided that the Wellington would be my next stop, and for those not in the know, this specialist cask ale pub situated in the heart of the city's business district, is something of a local legend in Birmingham. Opened in 2004, and occupying the ground floor and cellar of a solid-looking Victorian building, the Wellington has enjoyed continued success, expanding a decade later into the former offices on the two floors above. I visited the pub, three years after opening, when it was already establishing itself as one of the city's premier alehouses in terms of its beer offering alone. Coincidentally, that visit was on the back of a previously business trip to Birmingham where, once again, I was just passing through! 

The Wellington has undergone a considerable expansion since that 2007 visit, adding an upstairs bar, function room plus a roof terrace, but the ground floor bar appeared to have changed little, apart from a dramatic increase in the number of handpumps. The bar seemed surprisingly quiet, which left me guessing that most of the punters were in the upstairs bar and roof terrace, taking advantage of the glorious spring weather. Perhaps I should have joined them, but after the hustle and bustle of the Health & Safety Exhibition, and the time spent trudging the streets, looking for the Waterside Tap, I was just glad of a place where I could take the weight off my feet, enjoy the peace and quiet, alongside the comfort of a very welcoming pint of beer. 

Oxwich IPA, from the Gower Brewery, was my beer of choice, and I remember enjoying this particular offering on a visit to the Gower peninsular in late February 2020. That was just a few weeks before the start of the COVID pandemic, when Mrs PBT's and I were staying in the area, after travelling across to Wales, for the funeral, of a favourite aunt. The Gower itself had brought back happy memories, of childhood holidays, in a caravan, at Oxwich Bay, with my parents, and two sisters, and whilst it was an obviously much more solemn occasion had brought me back to the area, it was still a delight to be back. Eileen and I had stopped for lunch, at the atmospheric Worms Head Hotel, overlooking Rhossili Bay, with its miles of golden stands, pounded by enormous waves breaking over  everything in their path, a few hundred feet below us. It was the distinctive Gower Ales, pump clip, that brought those more recent memories back, along with the taste of this refreshingly hoppy, golden ale.

Despite being tempted to stay for another - there was nearly two dozen other beers to choose from, I decided to move on and head towards the Prince of Wales, a beautifully restored pub in the heart of the city's theatre district. Owned and operated by local legends, Black Country Ales, the POW seemed an excellent choice for the second pub on my mini-crawl around central Birmingham. It almost certainly have proven so, had I not walked past the imposing frontage of Albert's Schloss, a Bavarian-style restaurant and Bier Hall. Having read about a similarly-named establishment in central Manchester, I was intrigued, and couldn't resist calling in, despite this meaning a change in my plans. 

This cavernous establishment was ticking over quite nicely, as I stepped inside. Checking a couple of the photos on my phone, indicated the time was 4.30 pm, and my assumptions that it would soon start filling up, with the afterwork crowd, proved correct. The thing that had drawn initially drawn me in, was the availability of draught Pilsner Urquell, stored in and drawn from a shiny and well-polished, refrigerated copper tank. The brewery have a name for this type of storage/dispense, that I think is called Tankovna. 

I've come across this system in other European destinations, although mainly in Prague, but I do remember the brewery shipping over a whole tank of the stuff, and then presenting it at one of the European Beer Writers' Conferences I attended, back in 2016-17. The venue for that year's was Brussels, but then in a move that to me looked like bad planning on behalf of the organisers, there was a pub-crawl of the city, planned for the same evening. I'm fairly certain that a substantial proportion of that tank, remained undrunk, and ended up being poured down the drain, but such wasteful extravagances don't seem uncommon in the corporate world. I digress, but can confirm that the fresh, and un-pasteurised Pilsner Urquell was every bit as good as what I've previously enjoyed, in the Czech Republic. 

As predicted, Albert's Schloss soon started filling up, and not just with the usual, after-work office brigade. I'd already twigged that this area was close to the university, and other academically inclined institutions, so there were quite a few students present, enjoying the selection of mainly Bavarian beers on offer. The cavernous, open-plan interior was divided up with various tall tables, and equally tall stools, none of which are my favourite, but there was also a number of long wooden tables and benches that I thought were much more in keeping with what you find in Bavaria and Czechia. The food offerings looked good, but I wasn't particularly hungry.   

I had planned on continuing along to the Prince of Wales - the pub that had been my original destination, but I'm sorry to say I cried off. I've been feeling quite tired recently, a condition that is probably a sign of advancing years, so I decided to head back to New Street, and take the first available, London-bound train. I could enjoy a pint or two there, and seeing as I'd purchased (or rather the firm had purchased) an Open Return ticket, I wasn't tied to a particular train. 

I called in at Greggs, before my intended train, and grabbed a ham and cheese roll, along with the proverbial flat white, just to satisfy the inner man. Greggs though, have gone right down in my estimation, ever since they stopped serving pasties - and before anyone says it, a steak bake (slice), is a very poor substitute for a pasty (Cornish or otherwise). This regression is a nationwide decision, as confirmed by the manager of their Tonbridge outlet, and for me plus, I imagine quite a few other customers, an extremely poor one. Having seen off the competition (there are no other bakeries of this type in Tonbridge), a pasty, hot or cold is no longer available in the town, so thanks for nothing Greggs!! I'm almost wishing for a branch of Gail's to open locally, despite their higher prices, thereby breaking Greggs monopoly.

My train back to Euston was less than two-thirds full, so there was plenty of room to stretch out. The journey was uneventful, but before heading off and finding a pub, I responded to a text message from son Matthew, offering to pick me up from Tonbridge station. I was glad of this kind and, it must be said, rare offer, but it did entail my not going too far off the beaten track, when searching for a suitable pub. Whilst never my favourite (too noisy and too echoey as well), the Euston Tap, probably fitted the bill, but it wasn't until I cut through a passageway, at the northern end of the station, that I noticed the Doric Arch, tucked away, and accessible via an internal staircase, just behind the door.

The place looked familiar, and with a reasonable range of beers on offer, it looked ideal. I could have chosen Sambrook's or Stroud, but with a couple of Fuller's offerings also available, I opted for the ESB. Always a good choice, especially in the capital, and as I watched my pint being pulled, I suddenly remembered that I had been there before. "Didn't this pub used to called The Head of Steam?" I asked as the friendly barmaid finished pouring my pint. "Why yes", she replied and the conversation then turned to cask beer and the Campaign for Real Ale. 

The girl asked if I was a CAMRA member, so I truthfully told her that I wasn't anymore, having cancelled my membership after 40 years. I explained a few of the reasons that caused me to leave "Europe's Most Successful Consumer Organisation", and she understood where I was coming from. She still offered me a CAMRA discount on my pint, which was a nice gesture, but I won't try that approach again, as pubs, rather than entitled CAMRA members need all the help they can get.

So, not quite the lengthy stagger around Birmingham I originally had in mind, but still an enjoyable and useful day out - especially from the company's point of view.