...Gatecrashing At The Travellers Rest

 

It's Friday...

 

 

The Travs

 ...and I know all of you of a certain age will have minds conditioned to respond with....

 

....it's five to five, and it's CRACKERJACK!*

But I digress (already)...

On this particular Friday, as five to five approached, it was Mrs GH's private tutor session (for a school pupil) that was about begin, focussing my mind on an escape plan (otherwise known as 'getting out of the way') that involved a quick walk down to the local,  The Travellers Rest, Hythe, SO45 3ND.

At just after 5pm I'm in the pub, and to my surprise, instead of the usual status quo - a hushed stillness, and a small number of late Friday afternoon drinkers, I am confronted by the deafening noise of a pub full of people in animated conversation.

Post-work banter on a large scale...

Undetererred, I weave slowly through the crowd, exploiting half a gap between the defenders to reach the bar, interrupting several conversations mid-flow on the way.

It's the 'usual' on cask, Fullers London Pride, so I shout to the landlord that I'd like a pint, reach over to tappy the card machine and then look for an empty space and the easiest route to get to it.  

I sit at an empty table and there are a few, as many people are standing in preference to sitting. 

 

Still wondering what it is that has brought so many people into the quiet country pub at this time, I ponder a few options...

Has 'Happy Hour' suddenly become massively popular? 

Is it a pre-match crowd for the Saints (hmmm, they'd need a boat to get across Southampton Water to St Marys).

Perhaps the audience for a band on later at the pub?

A walking expedition that has got lost on the England Coast Path (which goes right past the pub)?

To the coast...

 

No obvious clues, though the crowd is mainly men, with a few women, definitely not husbands and wives, partners etc.

 

Anyway the Pride is Good. 

Fullers London Pride (not Hogs Back) - lashings of lacings.

I sit there feeling increasingly like a gatecrasher at a party, which wasn't far off the mark as it happened.  Luckily Sky is on to provide a distraction and it's the Transfer Show.  The sound is off, although with the noise of the crowd, I wouldn't have been able to hear it even if it was on.  Instead I just read the scrolling text to catch up on the peripatetic developments of footballers.

 

Transfer Show on TV and tables which give the false impression that the pub is empty.

 

 

Jurgen Klopp appears on screen but I can't lip read what he is saying. It's probably something meaningful like "it's a game of two halves", or "Kick the ball into the goal, they put it back" (or was that last one Genesis?)

Then suddenly all is revealed, about the pub crowd, not Jurgen's comments.  It's a leaving do, and someone starts a speech in honour of John, for whom the full time whistle has blown after 30 years at Exxon (who have a whacking great refinery just down the road).  So I sit and listen, as the history of John's career, mainly the bits which would not appear on his CV, are exposed, and jeered and cheered by the crowd.  

A presentation followed, and then animated conversations resumed.

 

I couldn't help thinking that I should have known that so much loud conversation was most likely to be 'workplace generated'.  In fact I also wondered whether it has occurred to Exxon that the expelled hot air might be captured and used as an alternative to fossil fuel for the future.  Just a thought...

My London Pride had shamelessly reached the bottom of the glass and so I slipped out through the crowd and, ears still ringing, went home for a bit of peace and quiet and some tea.

*The 1964 - 68 classic series with Leslie Crowther, not the 2020 revived Crackerjack which aired at the wrong time (6pm).

Or if you prefer, the poem version....

 

Gatecrasher At The Travellers Rest

 

Escape, before the tutor can begin

Down dark alley to the local inn

The bar is loud with talking sound

Full of drinkers who offer round

Their knowledge and experience

Like housewives at the garden fence

Who know a thing or two.

 

Where's the afternoon quiet of the bar?

Is the Travellers Rest where we are?

Has the post-work happy hour?

Delivered so much people power?

I sit alone amongst the throng

Feeling that I don't belong

Amongst this verbal stew.

 

On Sky TV the Transfer Show

Is in the know, where players go.

Jurgen Klopp is on the screen 

Lips moving, but not heard, just seen

I watch and drink my London Pride

It's Good, based on the scoring guide

Of CAMRA, the real ale crew.

'Speech' cries someone in the crowd

All attention now and quiet, not loud

A tribute to John, and everyone cheers,

He's refined at Exxon for 30 years.

And now his final whistle's blown

And then I think, I should have known

This was a workmates leaving do.