Archive for the ‘London’ Tag

The Gallery, West Hampstead, London   1 comment

Pub #2175:

Meeting Jackie at West Hampstead Station on our way to Borehamwood for the HIGNFY taping, I had 20 minutes to burn and wandered down to The Gallery, a local watering hole.  Watering hole?  Does that sound like something a hipster would say?  I should have asked one while I enjoyed my stout but I didn’t want to hear anyone else speak since one of the bartenders, the two lesbians on an afternoon date, and the drunk at the bar all sported the most grating American accents I’ve ever heard…not charming, like mine.

 

 

Most of the beardsters and the other bartender were British — or spake as though they were — but ALL appeared to be Trust Fund Cockneys.  The beer is good but pricy.  The upper windows are probably the best thing about this place:

 

…becasuse they are over the door back out to the street.

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Posted October 6, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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Coach and Horses, Clapham, London   Leave a comment

 

Pub #2170:

Sunday afternoon, the walk from Brixton Market to Clapham Common revealed the Coach & Horses, shrouded with vapers’ vapours and infested with hipsters.  Depressing, but I like beer.

 

Posted October 6, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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Drayton Court Hotel, Ealing, London   Leave a comment

 

Pub #2169:

We’ve been planning a trip to the Drayton Court Hotel for lunch, dinner, a drink, or maybe a gig ever since we arrived in northwest London but never really got on the same timeline to do it together.  Dubbed by me the “Ho Cheem Inn,” we wanted to soak up some of the ambiance of Uncle Ho (pivotal in our youth for his famous jungle infrastructure efforts while our friends, family, and neighbours tried to kill as many of his labourers as possible) who washed dishes here for a year or two starting in 1913 before moving up to pastry chef further in the city.

 

 

A vintage market drew us to Ealing Saturday and, aged and decrepit, we both needed a piss with the Drayton our only option.  It would have been churlish not to buy something so I got us a couple of ciders and we lounged on the back porch watching a wedding reception being set up and sucking in some secondhand cigar smoke from a derelict drinker who shouldn’t be able to afford such a nice stogie.

 

 

Obviously, we weren’t the only ones in the pub on a sort of pilgrimage.  Several Southeast Asian families and groups passed through as we drank in the atmosphere and cider.

 

Posted September 30, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs, Tourism

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Sam Wanamaker Playhouse — Philotas: Rebellion in Action and Edward’s Boys   Leave a comment

 

We bought tickets for Philotas: Rebellion in Action, a lecture on the political intrigue surrounding Samuel Daniel’s play and, especially, the subversive nature of the chorus and the efforts put in to be true to the source and still not be tortured and killed for offending the monarch (James I still as dangerous a ruler as Lizzie the Virgin before him).

The lecture was dry and it seemed most of the attendees were academics in theatre or literature (one fellow behind us had just accepted a post at Durham and his neighbours, in the cozy pit seating, were likewise well seated in University departments around London).

The highlights, though, were the readings from the scripts by the boys down from Edward VI School in Stratford-upon-Avon (aka, Edward’s Boys).  We knew there would be a reading, but expected adults because we didn’t really research the production and only bought the tickets to get into the Wanamaker at least one time before our move to Birmingham.

Which brings us to the Wanamaker and why we wanted in.  It is designed to evoke the Blackfriar’s Theatre — down to the exclusive lighting by candles — from the Elizabethan era which had an entirely boy cast.  This was managed not by recruitment but by kidnapping SANCTIONED by the Queen, herself.  No shit, the Master of the Revels had license to acquire performers without their parents permission and there was literally fuck all the parents could do about it.  We just saw a documentary on this a few weeks ago (which, to square the circle, used some of Edward’s Boys in the cast).  Fantastic…boy actors playing the parts originally played by boy actors in a venue similar to that of the original play.

 

Posted September 30, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in art

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The Anchor, City of London   Leave a comment

 

Pub #2168:

We chose not to linger at the pub where we had the horrible meal so we had time to watch the sun set on St Paul’s before the lecture/theatre at the Wanamaker.  Not far beyond the Southwark Bridge, the Anchor seemed fit for purpose and we soon were leaning against the smokers’ wall out front people watching and talking about how much we will miss the City when we move away in December.

To a passerby but only loud enough for me to hear, Jackie commented, “Oooh, Love…you don’t have the ass for leather trousers.”  I glanced up to see the atrocity she had spotted walking away with flabby cheeks a bit lower than the hips, indeed a disappointing view.  A chill from the river was settling in so we called an end to the fashion walk and took our bevvies inside.

 

 

We found a seat under a staircase.  “So, the offence against leather, just now…” I started.

“What was she thinking?” Jackie interrupted.

“Probably, and I’m just guessing here, she was thinking she looked like,” I pointed at the well-fit woman at the end of the bar in the leather skirt, “her.”

Jackie turned slightly to have a peek.  “Oh. Yeah.  Why do people lie to themselves, so?”  She gave another indiscreet glance.  We don’t have precisely the same taste, but similar enough.

 

Posted September 30, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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The Prince William Henry, Southwark, London   1 comment

 

Pub #2167:

With an early curtain at the Sam Wanamaker Playhouse, Jackie (print shirt in the lower left of the bar photo) and I struggled to find a decent place to eat.  Knowing the water front only has chain restaurants as barely affordable options, we drifted around and finally settled on the Prince William Henry for some pizza, the featured item on the menu.

Verdict: soggy.  We both worked the pizza business before and both recognised, immediately, that the pizza oven was not hot enough.  The dough should sear to crispness immediately, insulating itself against further burning while the top bakes a few minutes longer.  If there are a lot of vegetables (such as on Jackie’s), the exuded liquids should be drained by tilting the pie about 30° while holding the disk on the peel.  Tsk.

In a rush and disgusted by the food (too much cheese and bland sauce, as well — inexcusable), we finished our bottle of wine and fucked off to the theatre…forgetting to photograph the exterior.  It looks like the Google Maps streetview, below, except it has been rebranded “the PWH,” which I can only imagine means “Pizza Will Horrify.”

 

Posted September 30, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Food, Pubs

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The Sun Inn, Barnes, London   Leave a comment

 

Pub #2166:

As I mentioned before, it was a glorious day out Friday.  I decided to cut across a peninsula to make short work of the bike ride to Kew Gardens Station to catch the Tube back to our bleak suburb; just out of the London Wetlands park and across a quiet neighbourhood into Barnes-proper, I was dazzled by the Sun and, ten miles into the bike-tuning ride, decided to take a wee break for refreshment.

 

 

Quite lovely, here, with a large selection of drink.  Quiet, though, and I drank largely alone save for the last drops when a couple of other middle-aged fellows joined me.  I asked if the best way to the Tube was along the river then left at the Archives but one of them reminded me of the Piccadilly Line strike by RMT workers and suggested Hammersmith, instead (Hammersmith & City to Wood Lane and change to the Circle Line at the White City Station).  It sounded sensible and, since it got me home with an hour to spare for getting pretty before heading back out to the theatre, it appeared to be.

 

 

Posted September 30, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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