Archive for the ‘Hertfordshire’ Tag

The Land of Liberty, Peace, and Plenty, Chorleywood, Hertfordshire   Leave a comment


The Red Lion was profoundly disappointing considering its relative inaccessibility on foot.  After returning to paved footpaths upon leaving it, I steered myself along the edge of the Chorleywood Common toward the Land of Liberty, Peace & Plenty which similarly involved running up a pedestrian-unfriendly track, this time trapped between walls and hedges on a single lane with cars at either end of the 100 meter extent.  This better be worth it, I thought.

I needn’t have fretted.



There was a line of 10 hand pumps there, making the choice difficult.  The landlord gave me time to decide as he discussed the Open with a fellow golfing enthusiast at the packed bar; then, when we were both ready, he poured me a mild, deepest black and rich in flavour, and I found an empty stool at the far end of the bar (every other seat in the house was occupied and there was only standing room just outside — although I think the garden might have been a bit sparser).



The couple next to me had some library books they were discussing and the house was full of other books.  This is always a good sign, but not as good a sign as a turntable and a collection of vinyl substituting for the jukebox or piped in music:



Not surprisingly, this is the Hertfordshire Pub of the Year.

As I was leaving, the publican asked where I was walking to, next.  “Oh, just the station at this point,” I said and the couple next to me chuckled and headed off to a recently vacated table.  “But, first…” I added as I excused my self to the loo.  As I left, refreshed, the Mrs of the couple called out, “enjoy the station!”

“I will,” I promised.  “I hear it’s lovely.”  They laughed again.  Nice house.




Posted July 23, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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Red Lion, Chenies, Hertfordshire   2 comments


My first local was a Red Lion and I’ve made a point of seeking others out on a regular basis (they aren’t all good, I’m just fond of the name).  The one in Chenies is my 55th and falls about in the middle of the whole spectrum of Red Lion experiences.  The bar lady had nothing to say to me except the price of the pint.  The tables were all laid out for dining (I don’t think they fancy themselves a pub).  It was quiet as a morgue (I was the only customer albeit a little after 6pm on a Friday).  Oh, well.



I found the atmosphere stifling and took my Paradigm Low Hanging Fruit out to the wee garden and watched occasional cars pass.  The sweat on my shirt started to dry and I felt a bit of a chill so I decided the ambivalent interior might be better considering the persistent respiratory infection I can’t seem to shake.

Sometimes, the pub stop turns out to be nothing more than a box ticking exercise.  I reckoned that the next pub, 3 miles away, might be better so I left my empty glass at the bar and said, “thank you,” to the woman who stared at me silently with unwarranted contempt as though I had just shit on the bar stool (I’m pretty sure I hadn’t).

The building is lovely, though, isn’t it?  To quote the pub’s website,

“This fantastic listed building, parts of which date back to the 16th Century, is privately owned and you are assured a warm welcome every time you visit.”

Is that so?


Posted July 22, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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Edward VIII Postbox #5, and Chorleywood, Hertfordshire run   2 comments

I took a break from the A2Z Runs this week and just caught the Metropolitan Line out nearly to its limits.  There was a Red Lion to visit not too far away and in the opposite direction a splendid — and splendidly named — pub called the Land of Liberty, Peace, & Plenty.  (pub write-up links as soon as I get around to them)

The route I took (mapped, below) was hillier than I’m used to and the upper respiratory infection that grounded me for four days is lingering making the effort something more of an effort than it should be.

I had just reached a flat point ahead of a long downhill segment and off to my right I spotted a post box.  The royal cipher only clicked with me a few steps along and I had to double back.  Crikey!  This is the first one I’ve found entirely on my own…in the wild, and all.  An Edward VII postbox used to be the Grail, and now they are just dead common.

I’m up to five E8R postboxes, now, four of them this year within about 10 miles of my house!  Find this one on Haddon Road at Shire Lane, Chorleywood.  The most recent previous one was in Nunhead a couple weeks back, and the ones before that were on the P for Postboxes Run.  More to come, soon…I can just feel it.


Posted July 22, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in art, Tourism

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London Outer Orbital Path (Section 16)   5 comments

I’m way behind writing things up, but the holiday runs are arduous and the drinking regimen is demanding.  Friday’s run (what day is it now…Monday?  Or, Tuesday?) was another segment of the London Outer Orbital Loop and, like Section 15, demanded a bit of zenning to make it through.



The train into Elstree & Borehamwood goes through a long tunnel just before the station.  Above is one of the air vents for the tunnel (there is an array of these in the field, there, standing in pairs every 100 meters or so).  The trail was supposed to veer southerly off the road soon after these but fuck me if I could find the marker.  I likewise couldn’t find a name on the Harvester where I stopped to regroup but have been assured it is named the King’s Arms.

Following the cycle path south along the busy highway hoping to find the trail again I, at least, found a sign pointing across the highway which would have required scaling a high fence in the median of this dangerous stretch at rush hour.  I opted to pick up the trail much later after a second stop at the Rising Sun.



From the Rising Sun, the trail becomes almost pastoral until you reach Barnet, a busy but small suburban town with enough bars to keep a crawl going for days.  I had to choose one so it was the King’s Head, just the other side of that church, above.



From glen to upscale suburb to not-so-upscale suburb and now into an industrial area.  A pedestrian tunnel with fairly pedestrian graffiti gets you across the railroad and a caged bridge takes you over a large gas works.



And, then you are back in the mid-range suburban neighbourhoods again.  I was caught off guard a bit by this stunning church which rose on my left and — I believe this is where it happened again — drove me off trail a tad.


Evening was falling, though, so I only stopped long enough for the external shots.



Inexplicably, I found trail again and made my way to the Cock (formerly the Cock and Dragon) to sip an ale and change into my dry kit.  From there, a leisurely trot through the neighbourhood to the tube station took a couple of minutes.

Pub write-ups as soon as I can get around to them.


Hart and Spool, Borehamwood, Hertfordshire   1 comment

The trains were frequent enough and the Elstree Studios trail interesting enough that I thought I’d grab a quick whisky in another local (having had good luck in the Wellington).  I finished my kebab across from the Hart and Spool, which looked lively enough.

But, it’s a Wetherspoons and on an evening in the rush hour it is too busy to really hear someone even if you could break into their conversation.  Forced into courtesy by this situation, I just had a brief look around then started my long trek home for the evening.


Posted May 15, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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Best Kebab, Borehamwood, Hertfordshire   2 comments


I had a long journey home and knew I wouldn’t fancy cooking so I looked around for dinner near the station.  The runs today and yesterday had taken their toll on me and I felt I could eat just about anything and absorb the worst it had to offer.  The worst that the Best Kebab had to offer was an insidious saltiness that had me at the water tap all night but the kebab wasn’t too fatty and it tasted more like actual lamb than filler.  I’ve definitely had worse.



Posted May 15, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Food, Kebabs

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Wellington, Borehamwood, Hertfordshire   2 comments

I took my Fosters around to the end of the Wellington bar and stripped to my waist then quickly threw on my dry shirt. One guy looked up, bemused.

“Time to put on my Big Boy clothes, dontchaknow?” He turned back to his beer but now the group of four next to him who had stopped talking on my arrival took notice.

One asked, “Have you been…running?”
“Yeah, a bit. A bit.”
“Where you been running from?” he added.
WHO’VE you been running from?” another quipped.
“Hatch End,” I answered the one and, turning to the comedian, “TO, not from…this is my fourth pub on this run.”

They returned to their conversation but one of the guys kept muttering, “‘Atch End, ‘Atch End….” Eventually, he had a Google map and looked up at me again. “That’s miles away. Are you daft?”

“Yes, sir. And, more.”

Remarkably friendly boozer. Do drop in.

Posted May 15, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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