Pokers and Tongs say The Chapel of St John’s

The last episode, as regular readers and those with nothing better to do will know, didn’t actually take place in or by a church. This week’s missive almost headed down the same route as my nursery rhyme based research revealed that the St John’s as mentioned in this part of the song was The Chapel of St John’s which forms part of the White Tower located right in the centre of the Tower of London.

Chapel of St John's in the middle.

This was good news as on one level as it meant another extremely local tour with only yards to cover from our place of work and also James James had insisted on not walking more than 10 feet before he’d ever set foot on the tour again. But on the downside, this meant we would get no nearer to the “church” than the Beefeater guarded drawbridges of the Tower itself.

For those who don’t know much about the Tower of London, the White Tower is the square keep building right in the centre and as one might have guessed from this description, it’s the oldest part of the Tower and as such, this is another place which claims to be the oldest church in London. Luckily although we wouldn’t be able to get very close to the chapel, the White Tower is so prominent it’s easily visible from the path that runs by the Thames and it’s very simple to make out the arched windows on the second floor which is where the chapel is located.

Obviously the Tower abounds with interesting historical facts and the most interesting of these that I could connect with The Chapel of St John’s was that Elizabeth of York was laid in state here after her death in 1503. Now, who on earth is Elizabeth of York I hear you all cry out loud, well she was a woman who was daughter of a king, wife of a king, sister of a king, niece of a king, mother of a king and grandmother of a king (and queens). And to make matters even more incredible most of these facts she achieved in her lifetime.

I was quite impressed that I managed to recall all of these various kings and their numbers (Edward IV, Henry VII, Edward V, Richard III, Henry VIII, Edward VI, Mary I and Elizabeth I respectively) and even managed to weave my story into the claim that the two children’s skeletons found under the stairs leading up to the Chapel are supposedly those of Elizabeth’s brothers, the princes in the tower Edward V and Richard. That however didn’t seem to be enough for all female audience of hecklers. We were getting suggestions and questions of “isn’t this where Lionel the XIV was beheaded?” or “oh, I remember that this is when Shane the VIII hung his 12 wives, one after another.”

Idiot women got the wrong Tower in the background.

So leaving aside the finer points of British History we made our way to the first pub of the evening still at this point an all-female grouping. This had come about because the usual headache of gathering everyone together had multiplied into a right old mess and resulted in the girls getting squiffy on 2-for-1 cocktails in the appalling Slug and Lettuce and the boys refusing to drink in such a naff place going on ahead, a solution which it’s hard to fathom why we hadn't come to this sometime previously. I, like a poor man’s version of Dan Snow, had to hang around to do the church talk which judging by the claims that Arnold the II had burnt the cakes at the top of the Bloody Tower I needn't have bothered.

The 10 for 1 cocktail offer.

The first pub tonight was one we had passed on many occasions when on our collective ways to other tour locations, which is a shame because it’s a damn fine one, as we’ve come to expect from the Fuller’s stable. The Hung Drawn and Quartered might play on its name and take liberties with exact history but it’s still a fine pub and being a Fuller’s pub, one where we could once again produce copious amounts of free drink vouchers.

One element of the Hung, Drawn & Quartered.

I must say here that although we've never been refused a Fuller’s voucher, the blank look on the bar-people’s faces has shown that the message about what these are hasn’t quite filtered down to the shop floor. The chap that was serving me declared that my voucher was only good for limited ales, i.e. London Pride and even after I pointed out that in fact it was good for any drink I still ended up with the Pride instead of the Brit Hop which is what I wanted. Mind you, by this point I would have sucked the water out of a soggy flannel so thirsty was I that I quite happily accepted the Pride.

Ah well, next time maybe.

We did have a few new faces on the tour who need welcoming, the first being the replacement for Charlie. (Remember him? No hair? Couldn't hold his drink?) A much improved version of Charlie called Kambiz. We also had Shirley and Jade from Payroll, both making their first appearances even though both had been doing their best to avoid the tour for as long as possible. Jade admitted as much by answering my innocent remark of “nice to see you out finally” with “well, I was running out of excuses.” Mmmm, this might be one to watch. We were also joined by Monika who we haven’t seen for some weeks but who had dragged along her better half to endure an evening of beer drinking in the fine spring sunshine.

Endure was certainly the right word as we moved to the 2nd pub of the night, one which everyone was asking me why I’d picked it, and I have to wonder myself why I had. The pub, or bar, in question was the All Bar One on Byward Street which you just knew was going to be a disappointment when upon enquiring what ales were on offer the answer I received was “Doombar in bottles.” Ah.

All Bar None.

I settled for an icy cold Meantime Pilsner which gained me an Untappd badge but precious little else. Clever Brenda I noted had gone for a pint of Guinness and even cleverer Lucie had managed to coerce the management into fulfilling the free wine tasting that the signs littered around the place were advertising. That’s certainly one way of getting a free drink and much better than taking your own stuff from place to place. (Hint to Lisa and the miniature bottles of vodka!)

Ah yes, we're massive wine fans us. Phil leads the way.

Luckily the next stop was much better prepared in terms of beers as it’s the specialist beer bar The Draft House and their Seething branch which is located just behind Seething Lane Gardens. This is where we had Charlie’s leaving do (how has he managed to get two mentions this time?) and the range of beers on offer is substantial to say the least. I went for a Titanic Stout, (from Titanic Brewery) needing something rich and warming to take away the sting of the pilsner.

Titanic Stout.

Unfortunately although we managed to secure a large long table at the back of the bar we were split into two groups and in a rather role-reversed fashion the ladies remained propped up at the bar whilst the men sipped drinks sedately sat the table. I did enquire to see whether they wanted to join us but all I received for my efforts was a clove of garlic which I think Lucie eats in preference to chewing gum. Well she is French after all.

Beautiful people of The Draft House.

The final stop of the night was back across the road and into the Wetherspoon’s emporium called the Liberty Bounds which whilst doing nothing more than your normal Wetherspoon’s does, it has a competent range of beers including White Out from Brains which was my 1st pint, followed by a Märzenfest from Inveralmond Brewery which Brenda forced on me much to my jelly-spined resistance.

The group was now whittled down to the hardened most alcohol dependant tourists and there seemed to be much in the way of shared bowls of chips and shared gurning #selfies. None of which probably did us any favours. I think the evidence is conclusive.