You Can Bank on Uncle Tim

Not long ago every town had at least one bank, usually several, as the different banking companies competed for the contents of your wage packet.  Most, until recent times, were built in a solid, grand style no doubt to convince potential customers, that their bank was the most important and certain to keep your money safe.

Then 'virtual' money arrived and those local banks were no longer needed as receptacles for your physical money, and so they closed down in droves, much to the consternation of old folk who didn't understand (or trust) virtual money, and had to resort to stashing their cash under the mattress.

However one bank's undesirable assets are another mans treasure, step forward Timothy Randall Martin, and his Weatherspoons empire.  Tim knows a useful old bank building when he sees one.  I understand that just Googling (whatever that is) 'Weatherspoon Old Bank' will bring up a list of such buildings which he has re-purposed into thoroughly useful premises for purveying real ales, quality/value for money food and other stuff.

It can also be said without fear of contradiction that Tim invented the trend for punning names for his ex-bank pubs, which was later taken up by micros.  For example a quick search through his list of premises will reveal several across the British Isles named 'Standing Order'.

And so I finally get to the point of this post, as on a fine February afternoon, friend David and I call in at one of the Weatherspoons 'Standing Order's in Southampton High Street.

Yes it's the classic Weatherspoons formula in an old bank, but when you're on to a winner why bother changing it?  There are plenty of cosmetically 'different' pubs out their who struggle to get enough customers to earn a crust.  Not so at the Standing Order, which, though a large premises, was bustling with the usual full spectrum of customers, from young to old.

Spacious...customers all cunningly hidden in a multitude of alcoves...

Our first task was to study the real ales on offer at the two banks (no pun intended) of five hand pumps, while the bar staff keenly waited to serve us. Until we took a little too long to make our minds up, and then they got bored and went off to serve someone else.

Doom beer finds the competition tough in Spoons....

Finally two pints of Peerless Brewery's Oatmeal Stout were selected and Weatherspoons vouchers deployed.  It cannot be emphasised enough that anyone who can retail a very good pint of real ale 'down South' for 2.15 GBP  (never mind 1.65 GBP with voucher)  deserves a knighthood for services to the community.

Perfectly Peerless...like Tim

We found a seat, enjoyed the stout and thought about something to eat.  As it turned out, Thursday is 'Curry Club' in Spoons...

Join the curry club...

...difficult to resist a curry with poppadom, nan, mango chutney and another pint of real ale thrown in for 6.95 GBP , so a Rogan Josh and Chicken Tikka Marsala it was...

It was delicious...honest....

Oh yes - the second pint of real ale - nearly forgot...

If hobgoblins played rugby...

...you can always rely on Marstons/Wychwood to produce a very good ale for the 6 Nations...

Lacings looking as solid as Dan Biggar...

We sat there contented, taking in Spoon-life...

A long view of Spoon-life...

...including the usual historic artefacts...

From an age when cruise liners had lots of proper funnels...

...and the unexpected....

...like the customers mug that toppled over the moment that his latte refill started to pour...

Unavoidably blurred action shot...

...and the possibility of the toilets being checked by 'a member of the opposite sex’ (what - any member of the opposite sex - or a member of staff...?)

Ooh-er - check the next inspection time before using the urinal...

Long live Weatherspoons...great formula...always capable of a surprise or two...

...sit up straight there and pay attention...!

The Westgate Scandal...

I believe once upon a time, there was a similarly named scandal in the United States - but it was something to do with water rather than beer...

Anyhow, having left the pensioner’s paradise of the Crown and Anchor, I continued my wander passed the Victorian gothic styled Guildhall...

Gothic splendour...

I came across the Overdraft micro-pub and I thought about going in - but as I had been in the Southampton one - I decided against it - bad choice as it turned out...

The Great Hall...

...as I walked past the impressive forecourt to the Great Hall, I opted to try The Westgate instead...

Busy junction/quiet pub...

It has quite an impressive facade on it’s street corner location and until recently bore the title ‘The Westgate Hotel' above it’s frontage, but now just has ‘The Westgate’.  Instead of a hotel it now seems to call itself ‘a prestigious pub with rooms’.

Again it took a while to win the battle against Winchester’s Friday afternoon traffic and get across the road to the pub,  but looking at the interesting array of beers on the bar as I entered, I was beginning to think it was a battle worth fighting/winning...

Cracking winter line up....

...plenty of winter beer options too, so no problem in continuing the winter beer theme for the day.

With the wisdom of a wise old wizard (or seasoned pub blogger)  I thought I’d better avoid an early January sampling of Flack Manor ’s Cracker, as Christmas beers are often past their best by this time.  So I had a half of Russian Winter, the Russian Imperial Stout from Itchen Valley Brewery....

....it looked great, as the equally stout, tattooed barmaid poured it out and placed it on the bar...

Anticipation reaches fever pitch...

The Westgate is a strange pub comprising a wrap-around bar and a narrow single room curving right around the front, with a few perching tables and chairs along the front wall...

Corridor style pub...

There were only a couple of customers and nothing much was happening, except for a bearded guy chatting to the bar staff who was trying to get a job, and one member of staff proceeded to give him an impromptu interview at the bar.

I picked up a copy of the ‘Wintonian’ from the window sill and flicked through all the adverts for expensive items only Winchester residents can afford...

Ooh-er - Winchester evening wear...?

I know you’re waiting for me to extoll the virtues of the Russian Winter stout...

...well all I can say is it was very poor and very similar to Sarson's Malt Vinegar, probably not how Itchen Valley intended it to taste.

As usual I did the wrong thing, and didn’t take it back. 

Deep Purple’s Black Night was playing in the background, which seemed appropriate somehow as I held my nose (metaphorically), finished my vinegar and headed for the station and home...

...another day, another 'cask ale unfit for sale' scandal...

...so I’ll leave you to enjoy Deep Purple  from the days when proper heavy rock bands were invited  on to Top of the Pops to mime to their song...prize if you can spot a heavy rocker in the TOTP audience... :)