I love pubs, or at least I did

My last blog focussed on pubs and live music, and thinking about that I feel I have neglected quite a few of my favourite drinking holes, including the Harcourt Arms in Jericho, Oxford, an energetic stones-throw from my flat. We were there just recently on Sunday night when Nigel Brown runs what must be the longest running open-mike night in the city. I reckon that I have been an irregular customer there for at least ten years and have experienced some wonderful musical interludes. Also on other nights of the week where individual bands play to an often-packed audience, so packed that the place sometimes runs out of glasses.

Anyway on that particular Sunday night two acts stood out. One was a young man playing a square bodied instrument somewhere between a guitar and a banjo which he claimed to have made whilst living in the Mississippi Delta. He played, and sang, a wonderfully evocative blues song. The evening ended with a young couple: he playing violin and guitar (not at the same time) and she playing that majestic, and so difficult to transport, instrument: the harp!  

On the way home we happened to meet the landlord of the Harcourt, Ian, who was on his way to another Jericho pub, the Victoria, for a nightcap and invited us along. There he told us the interesting story of how he came by his own pub and he bought us a pint!

There is another pub, the Rose and Crown, even nearer to my flat which also has live music, but the music is not to my taste – jazz. However, the beer is great: four handpumps of real ale one of which is an ever-changing guest: a beer drinker’s perfect combination. And the company is good, hosted by Andrew Hall who is a great raconteur and who’s main job seems to be to entertain his guests and facilitate their mingling. And he too buys me the occasional pint!

I have made videos of both these establishments for my YouTube channel, Robs Oxford and they have vied for viewing numbers. They are mostly neck and neck, but as I write both have passed the one thousand mark.

On top of these, and the many other musical pubs in Oxford, we now have good musical scene at our other base in Stow-on-the-Wold. Here the Talbot has live music at weekends and serves a decent pint of Wadworths. The musicians there do a paid evening session and are mostly excellent – and the atmosphere is near riotous with fervent dancing in a rather limited space, spilled and broken glasses having to be mopped up, and the antics of the drunken jockey who dances as if he is nearing the finishing post in a close race.

But, there is a but. Part of my love of pubs has been to wander into them on my own, buy a pint of real ale and maybe, just maybe, just arbitrarily, get chatting to another drinker hanging around the bar. I have experienced some really interesting and even revelatory conversations that way. Sadly it does not seem to happen much anymore and I am less and less likely to do it. Perhaps it’s my age, or maybe society has changed, or could it be that drinking in a pub has become too expensive (Wetherspoons excepted of course). Whatever, I am venturing out on my own less and less, but still thoroughly enjoying a few pints of the real stuff backed by some live music.

Music and beer, north and south.

 I love live music, well at least most of it, and I also love beer, particularly real ale. And sometimes I get both together. Take a recent Wednesday evening at one of Oxford locals: the Bookbinders Arms. The session is run my Lee Bo, himself a very talented musician and singer and there is always a selection of ales at the pub. The place was pretty well packed by eaters, drinkers and musicians but we managed to squeeze ourselves into a space pretty near to the action.

Regular performers Julie and Mark gave a great performance of two of their own unique combinations of strings, percussion and voice. They had a hard act to follow. Two chirpy young girls of about eight years old gave a giggly but rather nice performance of a couple of songs accompanied by recorded background music. They were great and loudly applauded.  Next, an extraordinary young man called Luke gave his guitar a thorough beating whilst pumping out choice vocals. It was a most unusual performance and musically very exciting. He uses his guitar as a drum whilst striking the strings and sliding the notes. I found it quite thrilling. A group of three young men then gave a great upbeat jazzy number on keyboard, trumpet and guitar. That done the the smiling keyboard player vamped out a number based on an odd but infectious song concerning poisoning pigeons in the park! This was followed by a big man doing a solo on guitar whilst singing, very, very powerfully. He sang two songs that were completely new to me. Riveting. And the beer was good too.

Later that week we travelled up to Wick to visit Margaret’s ailing aunt (they are the same age) and broke the journey at Inverness. We had been there before, predominantly then to take our sons to Loch Ness. This time we arrived so late that the hotel called to say that we would have to let ourselves in – so we took a circuitous route searching for food, beer and music along the way, and we found it all. The place really throbs and is also rather beautiful especially near the River Ness. And yes, there was live music. Quite a few pubs in Church Street advertise it and the one we ended up at, the Highlander, featured a man playing the piano accordion and singing very enthusiastically whilst accompanied by an electric guitar. It was powerful stuff with a good admixture of Scottish folk. The beer however was awfully cold and fizzy. Quite a few of the Inverness pubs had decorative handpumps, but, disappointingly, very few of these actually dispensed real ale.

However, we liked Inverness so much that we spent another night there on our way back. This time we started in the Hootananny where a constantly expanding group of musicians played folk music on a selection of instruments. It seemed very Irish to me, but there are of course strong connections between the Highlands and that island. There we ate Balmoral Chicken, which is chicken breast stuffed with haggis, wrapped in bacon and served with a whisky or peppercorn sauce together with mashed spuds. Great, my sort of food. Again we finished off at the Highlander where there was frantic dancing which included crawling between women’s legs. I was not allowed to do that.