The Prince Albert, Brixton, London   Leave a comment

Pub #2061:

Back in Brixton to visit a new friend, we didn’t linger as he was nursing a toothache.  Funny guy, he’d waited ages for a dentist’s appointment then begged off because he didn’t want his jaw numbed on a Friday night.  “Beers this early in the morning?” he asked, ironically.

“Cider, actually,” Jackie pointed out as I was saying, “yes, mom…we’ve been up for ages, already.”



He went home again, shortly, and we spent an hour or so in Book Mongers, picking up a few things we haven’t been able to find in the local libraries. Sleeting and windy when we exited, Jackie pointed at the Prince Albert across the street and half-asked, “cider?”

Hers was standard and mine a cloudy peary but it foamed and spat at our French bartendress.  “Wooee zhould naiver stock thees ceeder eenie moor. Wooee pooer alf of eet done zee zink!”  So, she may not be so much French as a cast member of ‘Allo ‘Allo.

Cheap bar, for London.  Appears set up for kids (the 20-somethings that fancy a DJ and cheap bevvies, not toddlers).




Posted February 15, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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