Well of course my research into the origins of the Oranges and Lemons rhyme is scratchy at best but I am reliably informed that the Old Father Baldpate figure referred to in the song is none other than St Botolph, or Botwulf of Thorney as he’s sometimes known. The nickname must come from the fact that he’s the saint with a perfect monk’s tonsure hence the reference to his shiny slaphead.
I’m not sure why the rhyme refers to this particular church, St Botolph-without-Aldgate, as there are a couple of others bearing his name in London but as far as the tour is concerned, this is of great providence as it means we have another tour location within walking distance of the office and this was a factor we were only too happy to take advantage of.
The 3 Lords hanging in the pub of the same name.
So there were no tube lines to negotiate and as we went for the “meet in the pub” routine again it was only just a few minutes after 5 that James James, Mags, new-Guy Micky and myself found ourselves in the Three Lords on the Minories. This is a Young’s pubs and has only recently been renovated, turning it from a much darker East End boozer type place to a bright and light, hipster and trendy type place. The beer range was admirable with 4 ales and about the same about of interesting keg products alongside.
Even the glass was wrong.
I plumped for something I’d never heard of before, Red Car IPA although I’m not 100% sure it’s the same brewery as the one I’ve linked to here. I probably should have asked for a taster as the beer was just on the turn with that horrible vinegar scent overpowering any chance of smell or taste.
Luckily with the arrival of the girls (Gemma, Lisa, Brenda and Nicola) 15 minutes later and then the arrival of Buddy Rob 10 minutes after that gave us the opportunity to have a second round which for me was a much more palatable pint of Gentleman’s Wit from Camden Town Brewery.
Loverly bit of stuff! (and the beer)
For all its fresh paint and beer range there was something sadly lacking about the Three Lords, certainly the atmosphere was wanting especially as there were hardly any other folk in the place. The same couldn’t be said of the second pub of the evening, the tiny Still and Star, tucked around the back of Aldgate Bus Station in Little Somerset Street.
The girls. (Godzilla is on the end.)
Now this place is everything a proper little boozer should be. Good solid British ales on sale, from which I choose Adnam’s Lighthouse for Brenda and I, a crowd of regulars playing darts in the back of the pub, and enough room outside to relax in the nice early evening sun.
and the boys.
You could see the church from our position outside the pub and in an amazing show of knowledge firstly Brenda asked me if I was going to mention the “plague pit” which was dug in front of the church – I wasn’t but had read about this mass grave for plague victims – and then Gemma asked whether this was the church also known as “the prostitutes’ church”. Now this was something I was going to mention (no…no….not for any other reason than it’s interesting, thank you very much!) and I can only presume that this secret was imparted to her by the power of her hooker tights.
Mind you this great show of knowledge and intelligence was quickly undone when Rob asked everyone “who was Godzilla?”, which is a pretty normal pub question to be honest, to which Brenda answered, “A monkey?”……..time to leave.
Not one of them do sex for money......apparently.
Crossing Aldgate High Street we passed by the entrance to Aldgate Tube Station and into the paved frontage of St Botolph-without-Aldgate church. As Gemma had correctly stated earlier, due to its position on the traffic island it had attracted more than its fair share of “working girls” and has become known as the prostitutes’ church as it provided a safe haven for these “fallen” women. Whether this has any connection to this place being one of the leading lights in the LGBT movement I don’t know but it’s always nice to hear about a more progressive outlook from within established religions. The final fact I imparted on my knowledge-hungry audience was that Daniel Defoe, he of Robinson Crusoe fame was married in the church, which made a nice link to our Monopoly visit to Super Tax which ended in a reading of a William Blake poem by the gates of Bunhill Cemetry and visitors to this most atmospheric place will know that Blake’s very well-known final resting place neighbour is none other than Mr Defoe.
The third place was somewhere I’d stumbled on whilst wandering aimlessly around the area and isn’t really pub in the true sense. The Trident is marketed as a bar and restaurant but when I’d wandered past the other day I noticed that sitting proudly atop its bar was a barrel of beer complete in cooling jacket and thought that this looked worth a second look.
Tartan carpet in The Trident. Note hooker tights on the right.
It’s a funny old place with a nice line in tartan carpets and the clientele seemed singularly formed of elderly businessmen who had started a lunch around 1-ish and were still going strong by 7 in the evening.
The barrel of beer was there though and tonight it contained Partridge Best from Dark Star and the barmaid reckoned she could just about squeeze out the four pints we needed for Brenda, Gemma, me and Mags who had decided to save her “one beer for the night” for this place although whether this was anything to do with Brenda’s explanation of “doing the barrel” is not clear.
In the corner of the bar were three of the aforementioned elderly business men who were joined by what can only be described as a much younger companion is a very form fitting dress. Far be it from me to cast aspersions on what this girl was doing, after all she may have been one of the guy’s granddaughter, but after coming in and joining the men, one of them started performing a back and shoulder massage on her as she sat there perched on a bar stool. As I clocked this rather bizarre exhibitionism I caught Mag’s eye and she asked me if it looked as dodgy as it appeared to be. I agreed and she then said that one of the other blokes was inviting her over too. I wasn’t invited…..
I was forced against my will to pose for these.....
We were then joined by tonight’s surprise guest, Charlie (remember him?) who’s new job is even nearer to these pubs than our office. He wasn’t in time for a drink in The Trident, which was a relief as there was nothing in the barrel now anyway, but joined us on the short trip to the final pub, Hennessey’s in Old Jewry Street.
If you visit the Hennessey’s website you’ll see that this place is undergoing a change of ownership and is being rebranded back to an original name of The Three Tuns. You could definitely see this was a work in progress with the smell of fresh paint in the air and a very limited range of drinks which on the beer front left us with a choice of Doombar or London Pride.
It will be interesting to see how work on this pub progresses as it in a prime location and is also split over several levels with even a roof top patio so it has the potential to be a really good pub again.
What will also be interesting to see in its development is the Oranges and Lemons tour. It’s been a widely known fact between the tourists, but hasn't been revealed on this blog as yet, that this particular evening was my last as a member of the same company as the rest of the tour regulars. I begin a new job in June and will be working from a different area of the city. But don’t despair because I have been coerced into promising to return to my old stomping grounds, much like a cat returning to the scene of its urination, and completing the rest of the rhyme.
And anyway there’s a much more important reason to continue the tour…….rumour has it that a very very special ex-tourist is returning to these shores and will be no doubt, absolutely gagging for some of the good stuff.
Beer! I meant beer! Dirty people!
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