Saturday 28 September 2013

Oranges and Lemons say St Clement Danes

Well if ever we wanted a good turn out to kick the new tour off with a swing we certainly got it on Thursday night. A very grand total of 15 of us braved a pretty dull old evening to get things underway, which was very comforting especially as we’d lost a slack handful of tourists since completing Monopoly and starting this one. Some to new jobs, some to new countries. Hopefully it wasn’t anything I said, but the inappropriate touching might have had an effect.

For those still not crystal clear about the theme for this tour, tonight we were visiting the first church on the Oranges and Lemons rhyme, which happens to be St Clement Danes on Strand just by the Law Courts. The best thing about starting things off with this place is that the bells actually do chime the tune to Oranges and Lemons so things really could not have been set up better.
Now as all fans of Monopoly and the Monopoly Blog will have spotted we had to visit this area before, both when we did Strand itself and then again when we did Fleet Street, which joins onto Strand. But as we’re not tying ourselves to just Cask Marque pubs this time it really wasn’t much effort to find 4 likely locations to make sure we had plenty of liquid refreshment on our way around.
There were 8 of us who took the tube down to Temple and upon exiting the station stumbled straight into a fruit and veg stall. It would have been perfect if the vendor had been crying out about his “oranges and lemons, nice and fresh, 4/6 a pound” but you can’t have everything and it was still a good omen.

"Eh? You want a kilo of lemons?"

The first place on tonight’s agenda was the Walkabout bar, which is built into the same building as Temple station itself. Now, normally I avoid place like Walkabouts, vast cavernous vertical drinking dens with few features to redeem themselves, but I felt that the tour should embrace all manner of pubs and especially as Aussie Pete had arranged his diary just to make this place, it felt right to at least give it a go.
That decision was soon proved to be a foolish one. I’d not expected a range of craft ales in such a place but when the larger of choice, Heineken, is also “off” and we were left with the watered down fairy liquid that is Coors Light, things are really only going to go one way.
But at least we could retire to a comfortable seating area couldn’t we? Well no. We could perch on a couple of stools by some tables laid out like a school classroom and try to speak against the distraction of 47 big screen TVs, all playing something different and the overpowering beat of some tuneless music. The one good thing about such a well known location like this though, is that it makes for a good meeting place and we duly met up with New-Guy Micky who was cutting a very casual figure next to all us suited buffoons.

Look at everyone having a great time. Mags is phoning a taxi.

I know I sound like a grumpy old man, (hey I am a grumpy old man!) but this is my own personal pub hell which makes the fact the place was rammed and had a man dressed as a Punch and Judy show in it even more puzzling. George, Monika and straight-hair-Adele turned up and were rather unfortunately forced to down their drinks quickly as the rest of us desperately wanted out. Luckily George and Adele were only drinking vodka based fruit drinks but I have to say how impressed I was by Monika’s downing of her pint! Well, remember whose seat she’s in back in the office, she’s got a heck of a lot to live up to!
From the banks of the Embankment we cut through the Temple Inns of Court to Little Essex Street where our next pub was to be a revisit of one from the Monopoly Tour. The Cheshire Cheese is a lovely little corner boozer which is rather over looked by it’s more well known namesake on Fleet Street (Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese). Aussie Pete, New Guy Micky and Spiky Haired Ed and I had had a really nice evening there in November last year and this visit was just as nice although as the weather was a little milder we could take our drinks outside. Which was quite lucky because the 12 of us had now swelled to 15 as we met Ed, Sybil and Buddy Rob on location. The beer range seemed to be the same as before and I selected Tribute from St Austell for all those not partaking of Vodka Fun Drinks. It was certainly a welcome change to the awful Coors but some of the girls did seem to struggle. Monika on the other hand was downing a second pint of Becks very much in the style of Jack Duckworth.

Gemma and George strike their everyday work pose.

When we visited the Cheshire Cheese last time we had to walk past another pub on the opposite corner which looked everything the Walkabout wasn’t and now we weren’t handcuffed into any sort of limitation it was but a 50 metre dash from the pretty Christmas Windows of the Cheshire Cheese (Gemma’s words, not mine) and into the welcoming arms of the Edgar Wallace.
First things to note of course is that Edgar Wallace was a famous British Crime Writer and co-creator of King Kong. Quite why he has a pub named after him is maybe more mysterious than his books but that was all really by-the-by as we entered to be greeted by about 38 different barmaids who all wanted to serve us. When it came down to ordering the drinks they really did all want to take part, one would pull the pint, one would add the price up, one took the money and a different one gave me the change – perhaps they were all really pumped about meeting the BGC and just had to get in on the act? Maybe?
Pumps at the Edgar Wallace
 
The beer range was superb. I don’t know exactly how many pumps there were, but there were at least 2 porters and I rather adventurously chose the Vanilla Coffee Porter called Brazilian from the Colchester Brewery. I thought this amazing, rich, sweet, dark and very moreish, it was definitely a one pint only sort of beer but totally unique for all that. Alas the tourists, with the exception of Big-J, failed to agree with me, I never knew so many people don’t like coffee anyway? How do they get through their working days without it?
We retired to an upstairs room where there was a second bar with a mannequin with a fedora behind it and all manner of 1950s & 19060s advertisement memorabilia over the walls. You would never get bored in this place or need to take in a newspaper; you could simply read the walls!
There's a good day's lung cancer in 5 Grandees. Look, it says so there!
 
We stayed for another here round. The ale drinkers went for Triple Hop by Partners Brewery, the Vodka Fun Drink drinkers went for Vodka and Monika had another pint of Becks.
It was then onto the highlight of the evening as we meandered to the top of Strand and crossed onto the traffic island that is the home of St Clement Danes church. First interesting fact is that it is one of only two “island” churches in London and second interesting fact is that it’s the central church of the RAF, which is why there are statues of the war time commanders of Fighter and Bomber Command, Hugh Dowding and Arthur “Bomber”Harris outside.
From L-R: Bomber Harris, Air-Vice Marshall Smith, Sergeant Slaughter etc etc
 
If the tourist weren’t amazed by these monumental vignettes then they were blown away as we timed our visit to perfection and the bells rang out at 9 o clock. At first we feared we might be short changed as the Westminster Chimes and 9 “bongs” were sounded but then as if by citrus fruit magic the tune of Oranges and Lemons gently played out. It was actually quite nice!
So with music in our ears and fear in Gemma’s eyes after spotting a very dodgy looking geezer hanging around in the church gardens we made our way into Carey Street and the final pub of the evening, the tiny little Seven Stars.
It’s a cute little place but you really wouldn’t want GiantHaystacks, Hattie Jaques & Cyril Smith to come in on a pub crawl as you were trying to get served. There’s but a tiny slim corridor between the bar and standing area and anyone trying to go up the stairs to the loos needs crampons and an ice pick.
Rob and Simon wait for the appearance of Oliver Hardy.
 
Luckily we managed to sneak into one of the end rooms which gave us slightly more room amongst the legal wigs and the pub cat, who for some reason was sporting an Elizabethan ruff. He didn’t seem to mind though as long as we didn’t disturb him from his ultra cool pose against the lights on The WigBox (very very creepy) and kept tickling his ears.

A single round was consumed here, it was Truman’s Runner Ale for me, not exactly sure what the others were having, probably more Vodka Fun Drinks and no Becks as Monika had left by now. So it was quite a sensible and sober crowd that took a rather roundabout route back to Charring Cross and various tube and main lines.
Call me Andy Pandy again and I'll claw ya eyes out!
 
But still the new tour is begun, so let the bells ring out! DingDong!

No comments:

Post a Comment