Danes Meet their ‘Water-loo’ at the Saxon Bar

Long, long ago, in the Kingdom of Nog - err I mean Wessex - King Alfred the Great ruled his Saxon subjects, with a wary eye on the Danes (who, according to Wiki, are people who live mainly in Denmark), fearing that they would invade...

At that time Christchurch was one of the most important ports in England and was one of King Alfred’s burghs - a fortified town, to help keep out the Danes.  

Fortunately the 'important port’ mantle was ultimately to transfer to Southampton and spare Christchurch from thousands of steel shipping containers.  

Nevertheless even today the Saxons of Christchurch are wary of the erstwhile invaders of centuries before and signs banning mobile phones are clearly evidence of subconscious fears that Danish visitors, apparently here to enjoy themselves, don’t get on their phones and rustle up a surprise invasion.

Of course this doesn’t mean you can't use it to take photos for your pub blog...

I’d better start at the beginning before I talk myself into yet another tenuous title hole...

This particular day was a visit organised by local CAMRA and we congregated outside Southampton station.  Whilst waiting for our microbus transport to arrive we admired the inspirational concrete architecture which replaced the boring old rows of terraced houses and shops in the 60s

Being a lovely day in September - no-one had yet told the populace of London, that the holiday season had finished and consequently we crawled along the A31 to Christchurch, joining the typical summer Saturday exodus to Bournemouth and all points south west.

Eventually we reached our (first) destination to be greeted by the jeers and joviality of fellow CAMRA members who had avoided the traffic by letting the train take the strain, thus arriving earlier and already partaking of their cask ales...

The Saxon Bar is a small micro pub in a fairly modern parade of retail units.  It takes it’s name (as with other things in Christchurch) from the Saxon history of the area.

However, contrary to it’s name, The Saxon Bar has no bar - just an area to stand next to a till, blackboard menus and storage shelves, where you are served.  The beers are poured and brought back from an adjacent room.  That’s the barman sitting at his laptop, rear left of the photo...

The cask ale range was good, but not excessive...

Not having tried them before, I went for the Yeovil Ales beers.  First the Lynx Wildcat, which sounded like a beer with two names, but was a good tasty bitter.

I followed this with the Stout Hearted stout which again tasted good.  Apparently there was also a wide selection of up and coming beers in the cellar...

The pub wasn’t full but with CAMRA types congregating today - there was plenty of energetic chat about real ale, and related issues.  It was all face to face (rather than Facebook) stuff, and with the exception of one bloke holding his phone up and waving it about like he was taking photos, the phone ban seemed to be working...

The people in the know - suggested that it might be worth visiting the toilet before leaving...so I did....

I know...you’re wondering if that’s one of those autovac devices aren’t you...?

In fact it’s further evidence of the locals historic hang-up with the Danes....

...but is it probably the best toilet in the world....?

Between a Rock(stone) and a Hard Place...

You spend most of your life thinking it will never happen and then suddenly...it does...

Having been a little ‘distracted’ over the weekend, by a birthday which, for the second time in my life, started with the number 6, it has taken me until Monday night to recover sufficiently from the trauma and write another GHGTTP post...

Anyway you may be expecting the ‘birthday edition’ post - and who am I to disappoint...

Having watched excitedly as my ‘60th' sparklers fizzled and died (metaphor there somewhere), I made a wish that was something to do with Hampshire becoming the Draught Bass epicentre of the UK, and blew out the candles on my choc-chip and blueberry birthday muffins...

....only spitting all over them a little bit in my desperation to blow the last one out (well I have reached that age when I am entitled to dribble...)

Naturally, as is their forte, Google wanted the world to know about the significant birthday of a renowned garden hermit and part time pub blogger...

Naturally the trauma of reaching 60 requires real ale, and sticking the pin randomly (several times) in the Hampshire section of the 2018 Good Beer Guide, I finally managed to pick a pub that...
a) I had not been to, and...
b) was not too far away for an old fogey to drive to...

The Rockstone is a lovely old pub and likes to be known as 'the country pub in the centre of Southampton'.

This is almost believable looking at the adjacent Rockstone Lane and its mock gas lamps and old terraced cottages...

...and totally unbelievable looking the other way at Bevois Valley and the chaos of industrial units, eateries, retail units and second hand car dealers...

However despite this ambiguity of location, the pub retains much of it’s original old charm both outside and in...

...and has a fine collection of 'guns and beer' tin signs on display...

The pub has a single room (which was probably originally split into a public and lounge bar) which wraps around the bar in a U shape.  On this Friday night it was soon full with people and the noise of conversation.

The Rockstone is known for something else - it claims to do the best beef burgers in Southampton. Certainly they are unusual and creative...including 'pizza style’ and chorizo with chocolate BBQ sauce...

We were efficiently served by the goth waitress with a spiders web tattoo on her elbow, and the burgers certainly lived up to their billing...
...but you don’t want to see the burger - here's the debris....yours truly being the only one on the table to clear the plate...true to his Yorkshire 'big meal' heritage

The starter of hot Beer Battered Queen olives was pretty good too..

Oh yes and they had some beer (for those of a sensitive disposition the keg craft beer font is not shown)...

The Plateau Pale from Burning Sky was very good, and though the Mt Hood (Great Heck Brewery) was good, - it had an unusual tangy flavour which was a bit of an acquired taste.  To finish the cask ale fest, Hammerpot Brewery’s Oyster Pond Stout was good too.

The Rockstone is a great pub with a great atmosphere  and an unusual take on burgers, though it’s probably the first time I’ve had a bill for four burgers and drinks that's easily reached a 3 figure sum...

..and, unlike the micros, there was a distinct lack of flat cap hooks on the bar front...

...so I had to improvise...

The toilets were full of reminders that I'd been there and done that and got old...

although baby changing facilities in the mens toilets - weren't invented in my early paternal years...

So here I am...sixty...

...too old to rock and roll (though sadly no-one has yet told Mick Jagger) and too young to die...

 Between a rock and a hard place...

...I need another beer...

Dance on a Volcano

Through a crack in Mother Earth

Blazing hot, the molten rock, spills out over the land
And the lava's the lover who licks your boots away
Hey, hey, hey, if you don't want to boil as well

Be-be-better start the dance
D-d-do you want to dance with me?

...well I only need half an excuse for a nice bit of Genesis...

...but this post really is tenuously linked to volcanoes, or to put it another way... Crackle Rock Brewery from Botley in Hampshire.

Rewinding a bit....a Saturday evening pub shed meeting (in my back garden) was rapidly approaching and the nervous wait for a well known on line retailer, and their shipper - I won't reveal their real name, lets call them 'Parcel Farce', to deliver the 'featured brewery' beers, turned into a major traumatic event....

...for the second time in succession Parcel Farce failed to deliver the beers intact, citing exactly the same set of circumstances for both deliveries, as recorded on their tracking website...

Parcel Farce....

Now call me cynical...but when the same script appears on their tracking website for the original delivery and the resent second delivery, something slightly 'iffey’ is going on at the local Parcel Farce depot....

After that I gave up and cancelled the order and suggested to the online beer retailer that they might consider finding a more reliable shipping company...

...which (finally) brings me back to the subject of the post...as Saturday morning arrived and I needed some 'featured brewery' beers PDQ...

So a quick look at the Hampshire Brewry possibilities and eliminating those already tried, resulted in a drive round to Crackle Rock Brewery.

Arriving in the quaint little town of Botley, I couldn't find it at first and my sat nav kept delivering me to a private residential cul de sac, whose residents seemed a bit curious as to why I had arrived, and was turning round and leaving, for a third time...

...but eventually I found it and then had to leave again and find the public car park, as there was no parking outside...

When I finally walked into the Crackle Rock Tap - I needed a drink....

...the barman said they were on their last cask of Merlin Mild, and following my policy of always trying a cask mild when I come across one, I had a half...

...the barman gave it a good pull through first, and it was good, though perhaps a little past its best.  Never mind - still enjoyed it - especially as it was offered 'on the house', as I had purchased a box of twelve assorted bottles for the pub shed (all bottle conditioned beers too).

Crackle Rock is a quite new and very small brewery but their Tap is nice...

...and in very fiery volcano colours...

So Crackle Rock save the day and are definitely 'doing it right'...unlike the beer retailer who uses Parcel Farce IMHO (in my hermits opinion)...

Ship in a Sea of Suits...

Tuesday...14:30...London liquid lunch hour still in full swing...

...and on my way home from the office the lure of an absolutely fantastic piece of old London pub architecture is too much to resist...

Architectural beauty of old London...

The Ship, a few strides from Fenchurch Street station, is a symphony of ornate friezes and decoration and makes you wonder what it must have looked like in its 19th century contemporary setting, in the narrow street in old London.

Sadly now its neighbours, a couple of modern glass and concrete monstrosities, seem as sympathetic as a couple of nightclub bouncers escorting it to the exit...

Nevertheless it's great that it, and many like it, have survived in such unlikely places in modern London.

Inside it also retains some of it's old pub character with dark wood bar and ceiling beams, old fashioned suspended ceiling lights, large clock behind the bar etc (top photo)...

The seating and tables are now unfortunately all of the high level variety, for perching and standing and no doubt are ideal for customers who don't like to sit down and crease their Armani suits...

The cask ale at the bar is Adnams Ghost Ship, St Austell Tribute and Bath Ales Gem.  I opted for a half of Gem, which was good...

The pub wasn't that busy, (the 'sea of suits' in the title is more of a general reference to the business district) just a few suits dotted around - the pair with the bottle of white wine (top photo), and another group on pints of lager which would no doubt oil the wheels of London commerce nicely during the afternoon...

...more likely to be Heineken than Heileman's though...

I generally dislike modern London, but do have a fascination for old London - especially the old pubs.  I saw a couple more on my way home...

East India Arms - Fenchurch Street

The Railway Tavern - Richmond

...but they will have to wait for another day...