Old Anchor, Abingdon, Oxfordshire   1 comment

Old Anchor Abingdon sign

The first time I said it I thought I was exaggerating but it is reconfirmed with each new visit: EVERYONE in Abingdon is drunk.  I’ve been here at 9 am, before, and found half the population incoherent.  It’s a wonderland, and late in the day it is especially thus.


Old Anchor Abingdon table

I ran to the Old Anchor at the end of a loop through Drayton and the Red Lion and entered fifteen minutes after the doors opened for the evening to find everyone at the bar singing along with the Beatles’ “All You Need Is Love.”  The energy and dedication they were putting into the performance led one guy to drop his pack of ciggy papers which settled strewn beneath his stool which he proceded to fall off and clumsily tried to steady with one hand while sweeping most of the leaves into a pile.  He grabbed a disorderly handful and struggled back onto his chair, never once missing his part in the chorus (the “WAH-wahwah-wahwaaaahhh” performed by muted trumpets in the recording).

Old Anchor Abingdon bar

The guy in the photo has just ordered two pints of lager.  He is alone and the bartender suggests maybe get one first then the second one will still be fresh and fizzy.  At first he agrees, then backtracks; “well, since you’ve already started you might as well pour the second one.”  By “started,” he was referring to the bartender holding the second glass in his hand a few feet away from the tap.

He headed out to the garden and I propped the door open for him.  He had left his groceries at an adjacent table and my help seemed to confuse him no end as he sat one of the beers down to grab the door I was already holding, then noticing his now free hand, walked back and put down the other to pick up the groceries.  Back at the door, he spotted the first beer and sat one handful of bags down to pick it up.

The glass triggered a memory and he returned to the second one, leaving the other groceries on the floor, there.  Heading out, he stopped by and said, “thanks, so much.”  He came back in a moment later and picked up the farthest groceries and, obviously bewildered, headed toward the garden.  I whistled sharply to get his attention and he slowly turned, looking annoyed but neither in my nor anyone else’s direction.  I waved to draw his gaze and, having done so used both hands to point to the other groceries.  “Now, how did those get there?”  I was surprised he didn’t pile them together and return to the bar to order two more lagers.

Map linked here.

Old Anchor Abingdon


Posted September 17, 2015 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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One response to “Old Anchor, Abingdon, Oxfordshire

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  1. Pingback: King’s Head and Bell, Abingdon, Oxfordshire | The Endless British Pub Crawl continues...

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