BRAPA in .... HANNEY TO THE BEE : 12 YEARS YOUNG IN OXON (PT IV)

Sunday 5th April 2026

Like, totally ....

A lot of water has flowed under the bridge (probably a Scottish one) since I brought my remaining Oxfordshire tally down to just two pubs on Easter Sunday, which this year coincided with BRAPA's 12th birthday. What a mature young man he's become (just don't take him to Newark Northgate).

Flagging from a heavy Saturday, I drank a weird murky green 'Lion's Mane' concoction from M&S as I make my way from Bicester Village to Oxford, which was unsurprisingly heaving with tourist scum.

Knowing pub ticks were on the skinny side today (just the four), I had a brainwave for how to pick out decent pre-emptive shouts without resorting to Wetherspoons. The CAMRA website now includes a 3 star scoring system so you can get an idea of which pubs are scoring well on beer. I found three with a 3* rating which I'd not heard of before, so decided I'd investigate these later on.

Despite being a Sunday, buses DID exist (take note Grampian you monsters) so I shimmied on down to East Hanney, a village I'd walked through last year when ticking West Hanney. No doubt I'll have strode past this pub without taking any notice of it. A year on I sit on a chilly park bench waiting for noon opening to tick around ......

So long, farewell, my bus

2014 debut year BRAPA would've no doubt sneered at the sheer overwhelming food-centric layout at the Black Horse, East Hanney (3364 / 6204) but in a posh South Oxon village on Easter Sunday lunchtime, it'd be disingenuous for 2026 BRAPA to be too critical. Particular when the staff are first class. As I perch at the bar (the only place for me!) with a fizzy Ferryman's Gold, I somehow became the main character, which is HOW it should be in every BRAPA pub, obvs!!! Not just the wonderful landlady, but the elfin kitchen staff also take an interest, my various one-liners go down a storm (this is rare!) and even the chef has time to take the piss cos I've failed to spot the Gents pisser right behind me. Considering the barrage of "we've got a table booked for four in the of name Fauntleroy-Jones" twerps filing in for roast beef, crab and salmon tagine, it felt like a BRAPA birthday gods were smiling. And to top it off, a bald 90 yr old representation of myself arrives. Great mascot sir, even better trousers! Thanks Black Horse, you are a credit to your county. Now why do I never get Oxon experiences like this when Daddy B. is present? "How was the beer, popular one that?" she asks on the way out. "Wonderful!" I lie. Well, I couldn't end on a downer.

To reach Faringdon, also south of Oxford but on a more westerly Wiltshire facing road, I'd have to take a bus almost all the way back to Ox and catch a connecting one. We don't wanna do that now do we? So Uber it is. Because Time > Money in BRAPA, usually.

He's called Jody Schekter, errrrm hang on, Jodet Shakur, and no South African accent was detected though it was a speedy drive.

Swan, Faringdon (3365 / 6205) looked a beauty, and was, one of the highlights of my week. For the first 66.667% of my time here anyway. Wet led, carpet, a high class sturdy bitter from Sunderland's North Pier, a few sleepy locals discussing John the Baptist, stab vests in London and a cockle picking in Morecambe, this was one of the least 'Oxfordshire' pubs I'd ever encountered. 'Tis an Oak Tavern, which makes more sense considering their houses in Yarnton, Thame, Charlbury, Chinnor, Bicester, Wallingford et al have ALL impressed me in these two past Good Beer Guides. However, as we reached the 2/3 mark, I'm forced to face a timely reminder of my locality and the Easter Sunday date. A dysfunctional extended family including spoilt brat with colouring book and the promise of extra oldies joining soon, decide to secrete themselves in the small table to my right despite having a huge empty pub to aim at. The Granny is the only human one, she's gone for a pint Mackem Bitter like me but when I say it is 'good stuff' and 'I'm off soon anyway so you can spread out!', the rest of them look at me like I'm northern alien who should stay in his lane.

Difficult part of the day done, it was time to get myself back into Oxford for my two ticks plus a couple of hopefully promising pre-emptives.

A fair old ride, I'm unsurprisingly dying for a wee when we pull up at Botley Road so I rush inside the closest pub I can see, Holly Bush, definitely NOT a 3* on the CAMRA website!

Tis very Bedfordian, which is rarely a good thing, one of those Charlie Wells Eagle Brewpoint slop houses and my half tastes like you've stuck a straw in a muddy puddle outside the Pilgrim's Progress and had a good suck. Oh, and the puddle contains a syringe too.

Staff seemed harassed by the stream of European student / tourist types desperate for pizza, and I'm bloody pleased to get outta here.

Oxford's a huge town isn't it? More like a city or something. My next tick is a good half an hour on foot, even striding out at pace, though dodging the Easter crawlers impedes my progress somewhat.

Ah, I'm in the 'St Clements' part of the city, now I get it! The attractive Oranges & Lemons, Oxford (3366 / 6206) opens into a clompy bare-boarded high ceilinged bar. Boisterous, vigorous, healthy, happy and friendly. Huge staff points for the Yankee lass who serves me, a proper personality. Fake boobs. NOT that I noticed #WokeSi2026. She talks up the beer way too much. The pub's own 'collab' with Stardust. "We even went down to London to brew it n everything!" she says all misty-eyed with the proud enthusiasm of a Mum talking about her child's first school away day. Fuzzy soup. It ain't well kept, which is a shame, you could tell it'd have been a winner in a better ale pub. The pub smells like a weird mixture of lasagne and aftershave as I watch Brighton Ladies causing an upset. A lad starts decanting various drinks into his own flasks, one already contains hot water, but in the context of the pub clientele, it wasn't surprising. Every table around me empties, and on the way to the loo, our quirky barmaid has a 'joke' fight with the chef, and says "he's bullying me, tell him to stop" but I don't manage a one-lined zinger on this occasion, so giggle like a nervous mouse and run upstairs.

Not too far away, tucked down a side street, we come to today's fourth and final tick and it is still only mid-afternoon. This is good cos I'm flagging, having still not recovered from that Good Friday horror show with Dad and an early night might finally expunge this lingering man-flu.

"Is Roy a real local?" I ask bar dude. "I hardly think a real person would want their name and face putting on our sign?!" he scoffs in true Oxfordian manner. "He might if he really hated noisy pub locals" I reply. Bar dude makes a skeptical noise. I'm taking the win. Star, Oxford (3367 / 6207). Alarmingly empty on arrival, but filing up with Euro students in bad knitted sweaters later on. Bass is the beer. I hadn't seen one on National Bass Day yesterday which saddened me by at least 0.07%, and although it is decent here, it isn't a classic example. I can't help but nurse it. A vast one roomer of some character but awkward furniture and pillars mean it was easy to bump into everything, I didn't mind the pub but it won't linger long in the memory.

The beer hadn't been great back in Oxford, so I was even more interested to see if these 3* beer ranking pre-emptives on the CAMRA website could hit the heights.

First up was this feast for the eyes, the Library Oxford. More bar than pub, a bunch of fluorescent pink fancy dressers wearing tennis gear, all tans and tits, make fun of me for taking an outdoor photo, then hooning around indoors waving plastic rackets being nobs. But it gives me chance to bond with the sweet barmaid who hates them as much as me. An old couple come in and also do a bit of hating. Shared hate is universal love, if you think about it after a few gargles. Limited kinda gaff, but the one handpump 'Tap Social Modern Best Bitter' is far better quality than the Oxford pints which had gone before. Gadzooks, maybe I'm onto something with this CAMRA 3* thing? Still not convinced Ox CAMRA will have the balls or gumption to stick this in 2027, but to me, it should be at least ahead of Star & Oranges n Lemons. We'll see.

And it was a similar (but tonally different) story at the Magdalen, Oxford. Again, the 3* CAMRA rated ale was of the highest quality. Off the Hook. Had a few of these in GBG pubs and I haven't always found it scintillating. They also had Hooky normal on. Unashamedly gastro pub style, there's pastries and £2 chicken goujons on the bar. Where's the bread n dripping, we used to be a country?! But also, don't mind if I do and yoink a goujon. "Help yourself to garlic dip too" says barman as though I'm getting special privileges. Chef even pops his head round corner to ask if I'm enjoying it! Ok so sat alone in an empty food pub lacking charisma wasn't the cheeriest pub experience ever, but I'd say this is more GBGey than the Library. Again, we'll see if the 2027 GBG mirrors the beer scores online.

So that was a fun little exercise, and if you find yourself in a city or large town with time to spare but not many actual GBG ticks, a good way to fill in your time, should've thought of it sooner. There was a third 3*er but I couldn't be arsed and decided that Bicester early night was still on if I head back now.

A satisfying fourth day, but with Oxon ticks now down to two, I'd need to venture further afield on Easter Monday if I was to keep the momentum going.

See you tomorrow but actually no, probably Thursday for that one.

Si