...Back For Another Pint At A Wierd Weatherspoons

Quiet stillness...St Thomas' graveyard, Lymington.

In the quiet stillness of the graveyard of my long past blogs, rests one entitled 'Summoned By Bells',  an epitaph to my fist visit to JDW's 'The Six Bells, Lymington, SO41 9ND back in March 2018.

In it,  I focussed mainly on cheap beer,  the name of the pub being linked to an old pub on the site and the beer drinking bell ringers from St Thomas' church next door., and... oh yes, virtually all my photos were out of focus.

On a more recent visit with my son, Martin, I realised that there was still some interesting, if not downright wierd, stuff about this pub that I had missed last time, and so here we go again...

google maps

The more recent history of The Six Bells premises is that it was an old home furnishing and linen store, a local family enterprise, which traded on the site for 150 years, as C. Ford & Co.  It is situated at the top of Lymington High Street.  

 The old shop front lettering is now displayed inside the pub...

Still on display, the name for household furnishing in Lymington for 150 years.

A photo frame inside the pub records what happened next....

The slightly bizarre tale of a furniture shop

 ....in a nutshell, it was purchased in 1997 by two blokes,  Terry and Geoff.  They sold gifts and similar household stuff to C. Ford & Co. , and even left the old shopfront name in place.  

Their claim to fame according to the newspaper article shown in the above photo, was that it was Britain's rudest shop, with the owners 'putting straight' any customers who didn't behave well in the shop.  For example: 'if you can't leave those books tidy, then leave them alone'.

When Terry and Geoff decided to call it a day, they sold to JDW, and the story hit the national media (just google 'Britains Rudest Shop').  In their last few weeks of trading they put a sign in the window which said:  

'Britain's Rudest Shop is Closing Down

After 170 years only a few weeks left to be insulted, don't miss the experience!!'

...and when it closed, a new sign took it's place...

'**** OFF!

WE'RE CLOSED'

It should be said however that the insults were (mainly) delivered, and received, in good humour.

How to follow a story like that?  

 Well I suppose I'd better ask for a pint of cask...

Just ask for any of these 3 top cask ales...

....I was tempted by the three headliners (and the Ruddles Best), but in the end opted for a Goddard's Wight Squirrel 4.3% ...

Price rises may have occurred since this photo was taken

  ...a rich, russet colour, not unlike the island's red (not white) squirrels it refers to.  Definitely a NBSS 3.

Russet - just like an Isle of Wight squirrel

Spurning the cask, like an insulted furniture store customer, Martin had some some craft and foreign beers...

Craft

Foreign

...but we buried our differences and shared the crisps...

Two flavour crisps - made for sharing

The other slightly wierd thing in this pub, is on the first floor balcony area, where a set of mirrors are placed to give an kaleidoscopic view of St Thomas' church next door.

St Thomas - creatively reflected.

The rudest shop back story of The Six Bells must be one of the quirkiest for  a Weatherspoons pub...

 ....and all the photos are in focus this time, win-win!

There goes the bell, drink up!

...Up The Masthead In The Bosun's Chair

 Well I did once, when I was a lad.  If I recall correctly, it was at one of those sailing regatta events, on the Hamble River.   I was invited to the event by a guy who I used to sail with - if you can call it sailing  (bear with me there's a tenuous link here somewhere).

He had a fast racing dingy called a Merlin Rocket, and was desperate for a crew.  I was the only volunteer,  I might have even been press-ganged. 

Ahoy, me hearties...

Our sailing sessions usually ended abruptly with a capsized dinghy and both of us swimming in Southampton Water.  Usually it was my fault because I wasn't fast enough to get from one side of the dinghy to the other and balance it, when he changed direction ('tacking' - I believe is the nautical term).  

Anyhow, enough of my short, and very wet, sailing career.  

The Bosun's Chair, Lymington SO41 3BA, in this case is (fortunately) a pub, not a flimsey fabric seat in which you're hauled to the top of a yacht's mast, to admire the view, with your legs trembling.

Bosun's Chair - old coaching house (and sailor's rest?)

The pub is in the old quay area of Lymington which positively oozes naval history (as well as estuarial mud).  Historically Lymington was a haven for smugglers, but was less popular with the French, who attacked and burned the town three times, in the 14th and 16th centuries.

Today, the quay is quieter and no longer under threat from French pyromaniacs.  Sailing types loiter, and daytrippers wander the narrow streets...

Smuggler-free zone

 ...where pretty fisherman's cottages jostle for position.

Cottages jostling....

The Bosun’s Chair is a Wadworth pub and must have, at one time, been a cosy multiroomed establishment, but now, as is the fashion, is mainly one open space decorated in a contempory style, which gives the impression that the pub industry has been invaded by kitchen designers...

Kitchen styled...

Despite this, it is a pleasant pub, which still retains some semblance of cosy-ness.  Needless to say there are plenty of decorative nautical references (but you've probably had enough of those already in this post).

On the bar is a trio of cask Wadworth beers...

Wadworth's finest...

The Henry’s IPA 3.6%, is a pleasant session beer although, with such a modest abv, it is never going to make the BJCP standard for an IPA in a month of Sundays.  The artistically branded glass makes up for it...

Artistic script

...and it is a very drinkable - NBSS 2

In the back yard, there is a large canopy which I guess could be 'sail'-like in keeping with a nautical theme, though I couldn't help thinking it looked like a Bedouin tent.  Very practical though, and it will keep you dry in the coastal mists and rain.

Beer tent

As I left the pub I wandered down the street to admire the impressive railway station (built 1860), while my son, Martin made a detour to the pub toilet.  

Lymington Town station

Martin emerged from the pub and looked about for me. I yelled at him from down the street...

... but it was the landlord (who had followed him out) who spotted me first, and helpfully pointed Martin in the right direction.  Now that's looking after your customers…

The End...