Archive for the ‘Chigwell’ Tag

Chigwell Fish Bar, Chigwell, Essex   1 comment

The Chigwell Fish Bar was the third one I’d asked, “how long for a piece of cod?” over the course of the previous 10 miles but, while 7 minutes was the shortest answer so far, I wasn’t prepared to wait (especially for a £7 slice of fish).  I thanked him, anyway, and started to leave.  He waved a fryer utensil toward the display case.

“5 pieces of cod bites and chips for £5, ready now.”  Sold.  These pieces, on aggregate, were as big as a medium piece and quite delicious.  And, the chips were marvelous.  This was everything I would need for the final few miles.  Well, these and a beer….

 

 

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Posted December 6, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Fish and Chips, Food

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Two Brewers, Chigwell, Essex   1 comment

 

The Two Brewers is a sprawling complex of Old World interiors (huge, rough-hewn timbers supporting low ceilings, oblique angles, etc).

 

 

 

The focus on Sunday around 1pm was, unsurprisingly, on the Sunday Roast and there must have been a dozen servers dashing about carrying huge platters with various levels of gracefulness. That nothing was spilled seemed miraculous.

 

 

The other ‘Olden Days’ nod comes from what must be the uniform of the house. Most of the women were wearing blue and white striped shirts — the kind referred to as an Oxford — sized so that there were gaps between each pair of perilously straining buttons. Who owns this place? Benny Hill?

 

 

Posted May 25, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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King William IV, Chigwell, Essex   Leave a comment

 

I had taken a chance on a potentially cool stop at the Olde King’s Head (which was neither cool nor a viable stop) then recalibrated a detour to the King William IV (which was decidedly UNcool, but open and willing to serve me).

 

 

 

I took the cider (overpriced but tasty) out to the front porch so as not to offend the diners who were all dressed in what would be called Smart Casual if this was 1988 (which, being Chigwell in Essex, it technically is) and probably not keen on sitting near a guy sweating as profusely as I was. “Better out than in,” I thought of the sweat but also better to be out of the line of sight and the odorous orb of smell than within.

 

 

The wooden tables seemed a really nice touch to this otherwise prefabricated house. Except, wood doesn’t melt when a lit cigarette is left on it. Tsk.

 

 

Posted May 25, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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Old Maypole, Chigwell, Essex ( #August2016PubPerDay number 57)   1 comment

Old Maypole Chigwell sign

 

I was pleasantly surprised at the fine pub represented by the crappy sign out in front of the Old Maypole.  In fact, I probably would have gone somewhere else save for the fact that it was almost certainly the only place serving at 11 am (I had already tried the doors to several others earlier in the run).

“Proper Job, please,” I requested.
“I’m sorry…how’s that again?”
Thinking it was just my accent, I pointed. “A pint of this, please.”
“Ohhhh, Proper Job. That used to be Doom Bar. Pint of?”
“Sure, what-the-hell? It’s a Bank Holiday, right?”
“So, just a half, then?”
“Noooooo! Now you’re just fucking with me.”
She nodded and a guy walked behind her, stopped, frowned, turned the pump clip and asked, “Proper Job?”
“Everyone’s surprised,” I told him.
“No, I put this on last night.” They were just fucking with me.

 

Old Maypole Chigwell bouncy castle

Outside, there was a guy covered in tattoos and swimming in beer.  I nodded next to him and remarked, “worst…bouncy castle…EVER.”

“You’re an American, aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes, for a few more days.”
“Oh, your going home in a few days?”
“No, this is home. I’m becoming a citizen in a few days.”
“Well, what are you doing here, then?”
“Drinking beer. And, yourself?”
“No, I mean, what do you do to be here?”
“I work in a lab. Are you from the neighbourhood?”
“This one?”
“That’ll do, sure.”
“Yeah, I live right over there,” he waved the pint around in no general direction.
“Always?”
“All white? No, not any more,” he said ruefully.
“No, I mean since you were this big.” I held my hand down about 2 feet from the ground.
“Yeah, it was alright, then.”
“Because it was all white?”
“Look, mate, I don’t know where you get all this racist stuff….”  I didn’t know what was going on, now.
“No, no … you misunderstand.”
“Yeah? Where are you from in the US?”
“Atlanta.”
“Right, I’ve been there.”
“What part?”
“What what?”
“Where, you know, in Atlanta?”
“The airport.”
“Oh, look at the time.”

Old Maypole Chigwell

 

Loughton to Barking Bank Holiday Run   3 comments

Essex Run

 

Beautiful Bank Holiday Monday for a run through Essex, yesterday.  Jackie had to work so I rode down with her then continued out to Loughton.

 

Loughton Tube Stop

 

I expected the borderlands to be populated with the sort of neckless goons caricatured on Monkey Dust, but this area was fairly affluent and dully middle-class.  As the day progressed and the run moved south, this was all corrected.

 

Loppin Hall Loughton arch

So, pending are write-ups on the Last Post (Loughton), the Old Maypole (Chigwell), the Great Spoon of Ilford and the Papermaker’s Arms (both in Ilford), and the Spotted Dog (Barking).  I also managed a bit of fish from a chippy in Barking and felt unusually at home in the neighbourhoods from Ilford to the end.

The Tube back was jam-packed till Notting Hill Gate (the Carnival, of course) so the ride back was mostly standing and exhausting after all the heavy lifting at the pubs (and nearly 11 miles running).

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