The Imperial, Exeter

An overly theatrical mad-scientist's lair of a place this one, with an air of the days of the raj added for good measure. Pretty big with a nice enough sloping car park, it is near a fairly busy main road, although I always thought this added pep to the stagger home. Inside, its big with loads of bars tucked about the place. The main feature is the orangery which is pleasant enough in a centreparks kind of way. The pub grub is the same as any other of the chain. I once had a free surf and turf burger here, thereby proving that there is such a thing as a free lunch in the process. The beer is all the usual and fine. They had a real ale festival here when I lived in Exeter, and it was a festival of beardy flatulence the like of which Id never heard. In summary, fun chilled-out and good in the summer.

23 Feb 2006 21:32

The New Inn, Wedmore

When i was 6 I fell out of a Plastic childrens play tree they have in the garden at the back of the pub.I was only partially drunk. A fantastic looking, traditional ale house this one, right on the edge of a road. Its possible to imagine this place has evolved over time from a thatched cider den to a magnificent way house, the boon to many a traveller. All of which stopped during 1976 when some halfwit pebble dashed the place. That aside the interior is functional with enough nooks and crannies to keep one interested. The beer seletion is of course dominated by our Antipodean cousins, with a little help from the Danes. Butts Fine ale used to be available which looked, as all good brew should, like tea stained washing up liquid, while its taste was simply sublime. Upstairs there are pool tables that are easily jimmy-able and a big telly. I once had the privilage of being the only person wearing a West Germany football shirt during an England vs Germany match. Needless to say, the fact I now writing this via a series of blinks... no only kidding. The England fans in the pub took it for the ironic gesture which Id intended and I survived to drink another day. This Inn's a belter.

23 Feb 2006 21:20

The Crown, Cricklewood

When the early mesopotamians began toying with the idea that continually wandering about the place swearing at livestock was only one of a myriad of lifestyle choices, they were not to know that the early trade and bartering systems they established would eventually lead mankind down the path of soulless global capitalism, where high streets teem with identi-kit chainstores filled with comfy aspirations and mass produced tat. Which brings me nicely on to The Crown in Willesden Green. Initially the building�s mock antique facade speaks of class and evokes a feeling of upmarket, sophisticated luxuriance in which one could happily while away ones days in an alcoholic fug. On entering the place however, assuming you�ve managed to evade the simian door staff who sit grooming one another in the doorway, it is clear that any charm and character promised therein was never anything more than an illusion. The interior is all IKEA individualism, polished surfaces and generic sports programming.The beer available ranges from the same characterless Australian swill found throughout the capital to the kind of tofu flavoured wheatgrass based ales that evoke the nasal caress of a vegetarian�s fart.

Some of the pubs positive features include: generally attractive, if Soviet-sounding barstaff, who serve customers with an icy, glacial precision, very much at their own convenience; function rooms upstairs which occasionally act as shelter for some of London�s more forthright guitar-botherers; and an extremely easy pub quiz which my flatmates and I, having won three weeks in a row, became bored with.

All in all avoid like the plague, which you may well contract if you do go into the place.

23 Feb 2006 14:22