BRAPA in .... A GAME OF TWO HALVES AND SEVEN PINTS IN LONDON (W9 to E17)
Saturday 23rd November 2024
BRAPA F.C. are away at the London City Casuals, always a tough place to go and get a result.
Daddy BRAPA started, as did Colin, a full strength line up so no excuses.
Walking through a York snowstorm in the pitch black 6:48am, you can't question the commitment from the lads.
A few hours later, snow had turned to rain as we skid around the corner at Wood Green tube station to find our first pub, inevitably a Wetherspoons, hiding around the far side of a shopping centre.
Spouter's Corner, Wood Green (2840 / 5323)
'All this way and you drink Hull ale' sang the Londoners as we went for a Newsome Noel by Great Newsome. Oh yes, Christmas beer season is upon us already. A blessing and a curse. I'm a sucker for anything with a flashing LED pump clip like Rosey Nosey or Rockin' Rudolph regardless of beer taste ... that's how much of a basic bitch I am. This was ok. Not amazing. Ok. But I'm blaming London, not Hull. Obviously. All beers were 5%+, no wonder the hubbub was already gently comatose. Carpet 7.5/10. Could've been more but for toast crumbs. Getting into the 'spouter' spirit, we have some high octane chats here - psychopathic women in film, pluto (the planet not the dog), meaningless song lyrics, Bob Dylan (I think the last two were connected). Daddy B really off showing his big brain to give us an early lead.
London City Casuals 0-1 BRAPA FC.
Long old Tube ride to pub two, we'd been thinking 11am arrival, was closer to 12 when we finally do. Piccadilly Line closure didn't help, causing a huge blockage of London scuzz down the narrow fallopians.
Prince Alfred, Warwick Avenue (2841 / 5324)
Dad's austere expression results from our 'flippin 'eck, this is a bit posh innit, wish I'd worn a suit!' exclamations when we step off the Tube into the streets above, which are probably Mall's or Mews's or summat daft. Wow, WHAT A PUB! Pub of the day, and a contender for BRAPA pub of the month, of which there were seventy (70). Uniquely ornate doesn't do it justice. You have to duck under this succession of tiny doorways to reach the exciting cubby rooms, I couldn't believe folk were really only 4 foot tall in 1896. 'Maybe the floor has risen!' I think out loud. Turns out it is for 'pot boys' to collect your empties. Each area has what used to be a specific outer door too, bring 'em all back! This is a Young's pub, and although I told myself 'something under 5% next' following that Great Newsome, I crumble on the sight of Winter Warmer. "I wonder how many you have to drink before you lose all spatial awareness and headbutt the top of the doorways?" I muse/mews. Barmaid pretends to chuckle, but probably hates me. The loos are typically London pub down, down & down. More seating this way too, pub takes on a different atmosphere in what feels like a dungeon. Winner, and so were we!
London City Casuals 0-2 BRAPA FC.
Our third tick was just around the corner, today's only easy pub manoeuvre .....
Warwick Castle, Warwick Avenue (2842 / 5325)
This pub's only real fault was directly following the Prince Alfred. Just simply not as exciting in terms of retaining old features but still enough architectural Grade II glamour to give it the GBG heritage 'star'. Older than the Alfred, and we do well to get sat around the corner in front of a cracking fire. It is a Greene King house though, and a few softer Black Country Ales furnishings wouldn't have gone amiss. The ultra light house beer 'Made of Ale' (oh, Maida Vale, just got it, hilarious) we both find stunning, astonishing in the circs and the average rating on Untwappd is something like 2.1!! Annoyingly, but a very London trait, a group of middle aged bloke floor blockers manage to get in the way of anyone trying to walk anywhere, despite the pub having tonnes of free seats. Seriously, even if they were bar blocking they'd be semi out of the way. I'd love to know how London pubbers minds work sometimes, so often detached from reality. I elbowed my way through them on the way out. Result!
London City Casuals 0-3 BRAPA FC.
Half time and what a first half it had been. You're being mauled by the BRAPA!
Complacency had perhaps kicked in because we take off Daddy BRAPA .... he's not getting any younger and had a big home game versus Sheff Wed on Tuesday night so needed the rest. Game's already in the bag anyway, right?
Off to spend the afternoon in Luton ... but still smiling
And in his place ..... errrm, well .....
Yes, it was off to E17 and how my bladder managed to cope all the way through to Walthamstow Central and into our next pub was a minor miracle and proof it can surprise me on occasions. Top bladding!
Been eating less blue and soft cheese recently, I'm sure that makes a difference weirdly!
Queens Arms, Walthamstow (2843 / 5326)
Had I needed a number two (I didn't), I'm sure my sphincter would've surely clenched & recoiled to help bide myself even more pre-toilet time at the yucky scene that greets me - buggies, high chairs, twoddlers, crumby Mummies, beardie Daddies, the tinny clinking of glasses, knives & forks, and clomp clomp clomp of running feet on wooden floors, couples in pashminas and Burberry enjoying scallops. But something funny was afoot - the BRAPA gods were determined to smile on me as much as possible. Firstly the bar staff - best collective since the Urban Cookie. One cask beer on. Great Newsome again, could ya believe it? Pricky Back Otcham this time, which is Hull for dead fucking hedgehog. "Try before you buy?"she chirrups. "No way .... besides I live oop north and I've had it plenty of times before". She suddenly winces in pain as she brings me the card reader. "I expect it is a lot cheaper oop there, so I AM sorreee!" she wails, determined to try a bit of Yorkshire herself. It's about £5.60. I tell her I've paid plenty worse, so don't fret lass. At the same time, I'd commandeered a freshly available table close to the bar and plonked my BRAPAphernalia down. "Can I move your stuff across so I can give the table a wipe?" says a kind voice behind me. She scoops Colin onto the top of my open GBG, and ferries him over to another table temporarily. "Wheeeee!" Colin's pub experience of the year. And he reckoned she was 'well fit'. #EverydayCauliflowerSexismInPubs I settle into my average PBO (but it is always average, even oop in Hull) & I'm just sliding back into London gastro depression ..... but my fun isn't yet over, as a guy called James from a far table recognises me off of that BRAPA thing I do (i.e. this) and comes over for a real good chat. Nice chap, and I need to remember to let him know when I'm tackling the two pesky Woodford's. But for all the heartening humanity encountered, I couldn't see this pub as a win, and I really couldn't have experienced it any better. Scary!
London City Casuals 1-3 BRAPA FC.
One stop back in the direction of my Parcel Yard end goal took me to Blackhorse Lane for tick number five. I swing a left, past some forklifts trucks and palettes, towards that flappy plastic stuff which acts as a door in such places.
Beerblefish Brewing Taproom, Blackhorse Lane (2844 / 5327)
My thought process before walking in went something like this .... "Oh well, however East London brewery tappy it is, at least it'll be more of a drinkers crowd than our last pub" HA! So, to find myself stepping over toddlers, Mummy's and Daddy's, strewn across the floor on a succession of foam mats, celebrating a twild's third birthday, was horrifically surprising. You'd have to be a special kind of person to think 'where shall we host a toddlers birthday party? Oh I know, a chilly harsh industrial unit brewery tap!' Selfish parents with a taste for ale I guess? But why are Beerblefish even allowing it? I know Coin is important for 'struggling businesses' but surely you must maintain some standards and draw a line? Adult spaces for adult activities? Would I go into a nursery and drink beer? And I don't mean the pub in Stockport. Over 5,327 'pubs' in my life, and I fail to think of a more pukeworthy scene than this. In happier news, they had a homebrewed 2% beer on. I was 'feeling it' after those two early 5%ers. I tell the barman (northern accent) of my relief, but he 'one ups' me by telling me he'd had an 'accidental' 11% last night, so he was pleased to get this on too. I sit against the cold harsh far wall, just beyond the pool table, which has a rip in the cloth, I can just imagine how that happened. It isn't long before a bearded Daddy sits his toddlers on the blue baize, who starts chucking balls around, to much laughter and encouragement. Help. I'm a pub ticker, get me out of here!
London City Casuals 2-3 BRAPA FC.
As I stride out on foot towards pub six in the drizzly rain with dusk falling, determined to put as much distance between myself and Babylfish as possible, I notice Hull City are losing at Kenilworth Road. And yet I feel a slight pang of jealousy that Daddy BRAPA is having a happier time than me!
Tavern on the Hill, Higham Hill (2845 / 5328)
At least this place wasn't full of buggies, this thoughtful bunch of parents drape their twild life over their shoulders to save space. Their might be more atmosphere on Uranus, but at least you had room to swing a cat. A moody extended family of West Indians are sat behind me trying to enjoy some delightfully greasy smelling food. An Irish leprechaun appears at my shoulder to try and help me connect to the pub WiFi, but fails. There's one handpump on, East London Foundation, I was going to smear it on my face but to drink, it is surprisingly fresh, clean and zingy - I suppose something in this gloomy echoey chamber had to be, but it is still an improvement on our last two. It felt vaguely like a pub! Yes, the bar really had been set that low. Didn't feel GBGy in the slightest.
London City Casuals 3-3 BRAPA FC.
3-0 up, and we'd f'd it up!
I forget my bearings about now, and take the long walk to Walthamstow Central when surely Blackhorse Road would've been closer.
Back at King's Cross, showing great restraint, I sit on a bench at the bottom of the Parcel Yard steps and remembering I haven't eaten all day (oops, no wonder the beer was a struggle!), so work my way through my bag of food and wait for Daddy BRAPA to emerge unscathed from Luton. We've lost, really now wondering if Tim Walter is the right man for the job.
Dad arrives just about the same time I run out of food, so only one thing for it ....
The Pine Fresh Special Limited Edition (collab with Harpic)
I found it a struggle today, must've been the Harpic influence. Two wasteful Arsenal fans leave two Forest programmes (about the heft of a Good Beer Guide) on our table, pretty expensive at £4 each, so yoink I'm having them! Giant pull out poster of Mikel Merino too whoever he is.
The Parcel Yard experience wasn't enough to a late win, or a late defeat. 3-3 it finishes.
Then we go for some late food for the train home, but Daddy BRAPA keeps getting followed around by gigantic wannabe mascots, a novelty he tires of as time goes on.
What a day it had been.
See you Sunday for my final pre-Christmas blog where I tell you why Warrington and Rainhill are better than Blackhorse Lane.
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