Archive for the ‘Middlesex’ Tag

The Locker Room, Northwood Hills, Middlesex   Leave a comment


Pub #2067:

Lightly raining and windy out, I got lost in the fading light and veered northwest from TJ’s Sportsbar (when I should have had bearings of WSW). Powering through the climb to Northwood Hills Station whence I could easily find my way home, light glinting on a raised beer glass inside the Locker Room distracted me. Of course, I went in.

The only other pub in the area closed down several months back so this new venue is a more than welcome addition. Instead of “Locker Room,” I’m getting more a sense of a West End playhouse version of an industrial site: chain linked fencing to define zones and furniture fashioned from scrap lumber and metal. They seem to mean well, they have at least one ale on (although I went for a lager), and the short track speed skating from the Winter Olympics was on tele. Result.




Posted February 26, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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TJ’s Sports Bar, Harrow & Wealdstone,   1 comment


Pub #2066:

Day two of the Red Cross training in Harrow let out at 4:30 pm so I took the opportunity to do a bit of a run in the waning daylight.  North to Harrow & Wealdstone, I found the bar I was targeting boarded up so continued until I found a replacement, TJ’s Sportsbar.  A friendly, family-run place undergoing a bit of an overdue freshening up (new carpet in the hallway, several new pool cues, a spot of paint working its way around the lounge, etc), it has darts to the back and billiards near the front door, and sport on the tele.

I’d probably have much more to say should I have stayed longer than a pint.  One old guy at the bar seemed bent on belligerence (despite no one paying any mind to it).  There was an obstacle course of tea cups being used to strategically weigh down bits of the new carpet.  A darts match was not going well (only 1 out of every six throws even hit the board).  Worth revisiting, for sure.



Posted February 24, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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O’Neill’s, Harrow, Middlesex   Leave a comment


Pub #2065:

Chains like All Bar One, Be At One (or, “Beat One,” as I prefer to call it), and O’Neill’s are usually off the menu for this blog.  On Monday, though, I needed lunch during a break from training at the Red Cross in Harrow and … needs must.  As, I had already been in every other non-chain (and non night club) bar in town, O’Neill’s it was.

In general, the bar isn’t that bad and the bacon & cheese burger was splendid.  Quiet, though; just the old guy with a bandage on his forehead sipping his beer (below) and a couple of weaselly looking yuppies (but I repeat myself) grabbing a quick lunch before rushing back out to screw someone in an apartment rental or some other scam.



Posted February 23, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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South Harrow (& Rayners Lane) to Ruislip, Piccadilly & Metropolitan Lines, TFL Run Project   1 comment


{A map and technical description are in the 2017 Holiday Run Streak Week 1 post.}

An exhausting week just past resulted in me lying in this morning and not getting out for the day’s run until nearly sunset.  Not that you could see the sun in the downpour.



Heading east, I passed South Harrow Station (above) then worked my way up to Rayners Lane.  At the confluence of two great transport arteries — in this case, the Piccadilly and Metropolitan Lines — you can usually expect some structure of great cultural or religious significance.  Here I found the Zoroastrian Centre:



The station, just across the road, is one of my favourites:



Although, working westward, Eastcote Station is pretty good, too, despite the crap minicab dispatch office stinking up the view:



I arrived on Victoria Road heading to Ruislip Manor just as the Christmas Lights Turn-On was breaking up and I had to weave through crowds almost all the way to the rail bridge.  Stupidly, I knew this was tonight from dropping shit off at the library just a few hours earlier; but, it was only a hundred meters or so of glazed eyes and heavy traffic.



Finally, at Ruislip Station I was able to close the loop by heading down West End Road where a tall G&T awaited.  Sköl!



This start on the Metropolitan and the current segments finished on the Piccadilly are shown here:




And the overall progress:



Weekend Runs 21-22 October 2017   1 comment


“Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays these couriers from the swift completion of their appointed rounds.”
USPS Creed

The weekend runs tested my resolve with cold, rain, wind, and pre-dawn darkness; not exactly the Postman’s Creed, but most of us really think of the “Going Postal” version of the motto à la Newman from Seinfeld.  In fact, when a colleague asked, “was someone chasing you?” in reference to my mention of 30 miles on trail this weekend I replied, “only my demons,” before I realised I really had an opinion.




Saturday, I did an 8½ mile loop out to the canal path (where someone has dredged a scooter from the depths where the A40 crosses), through Northolt and back to the diy shop to pick up some varnish for a garden project. The wind was brutal and even dislodged a traffic light while I was waiting to cross the street at Northolt Station.




We had a busy day planned Sunday so, in order to be home in time to shower and get out to Uxbridge by 11, I left an hour-and-a-half before sunrise on my 21½ mile journey to Clapham Junction.



Hitting the canal at the same spot in Greenford as the previous morning, I worked my way south to the longer branch that passes below Ealing.  At a park along the way, I was intrigued by this beached rowboat with the WATER DONKEY sign.  If anyone can explain it, you are a better man than me; if anyone DOES explain it, I regain the high ground.



The route merged onto the River Brent path as twilight allowed me to holster my torch which would be a great euphemism; not as great as “Prize Length of Piling,” but not bad.


The transition to the downstream sections of the Thames Path required a stretch of street running through Brentford where a lovely collection of pubs taunted me with their pulled curtains and gated doorways.  I’ll be back, though, mark my words.



This year’s World Series involves the Astros and the Dodgers, two of my least favourite baseball teams, but them’s the breaks.  It was good to see that someone with a spray can is also patiently waiting for the Cubs’ return to form, next year:



Just before the Brent highway segment, there were several impressive weirs and railway bridges.  Following on, I eventually crossed to the south side of the Thames via the stately Kew Gardens Bridge and dodged the now-legion runners and cyclists that wait for a decent hour to get out for their morning constitutional.



On the far side of the Putney Bridge sits a Wetherspoons called the Rocket in an early-1960s office building that looks as if it was just built (a rarity in that era of Stalinist architecture).  Alas, the bar was not yet open (food only till 9) so to its sister pub, the Asparagus, I struggled.



After my long-overdue pint, I finished the journey at Clapham Junction.  I think there is a subconscious battle going on in my feeble mind.  Every time I catch a train here, I get songs by Squeeze stuck in my head but NEVER the one you would think.  Typing this up over coffee Tuesday morning, I’m still struggling to supplant Pulling Mussels From A Shell with any other earworm.




Posted October 24, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Running, Tourism

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Whelan’s. Uxbridge, Middlesex   Leave a comment


Pub #1960:

I had a half hour to kill, Friday, before Jackie arrived in Uxbridge for our wine tasting event. There’s not really much to occupy that short amount of time, there, so I sought out a pub (of course) finding Whelan’s — surprisingly, one that had not previously featured in this Endless British Pub Crawl.

Inside, it is frighteningly similar to what passes for an Irish-themed bar in the States. I understand they do folk music from time-to-time, but I fear it would be a sad imitation of the real thing (or is that te rail ting?).




Across from me, a pair of lads in their late 20s was having what was probably an after work pint. One of them was wild-eyed and probably coked up or just excited by his partner’s companionship. Either way, he was fairly loudly explaining everything he knew about stout which was, essentially, it takes a while to pour properly. Grimacing with each sip of his Guinness, he happily — and unconvincingly — proclaimed his life-long love of the black stuff.

I finished my house ale, a viscous brown soup that tasted strongly of linseed oil and floor polish (which are not bad things, in my assessment) before the tops of the lower-case lettering on their Guinness pints were exposed. They were definitely in the right bar. Me…not so much.



Posted October 23, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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Travellers Rest, Kenton, Middlesex   2 comments


Pub #1955:

After the surprisingly unarousing trip to have my butt violated (while the NHS paid the costs!), I was surprisingly hungry and in need of fluid replacement therapy.  The Travellers’ Rest was only a short walk away and I decided to give it a go.



Unfortunately, I arrived before the kitchen opened and was forced to share this hotel lobby-cum-bar with the only other non-staff occupant … a decrepit old man working on his fourth Guinness of the morning.  This visit was kind of my past, present, and future condensed into a hoppy pint of ale and a discussion of the Jeremy Kyle show.

I moved on, soon after, to seek solid food and rest.  Ironic, considering the pub name.




Posted October 18, 2017 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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