BRAPA is .... SPARED BY A HARE & BRAPKAYO SAKA : HACKNEY DISPARAGE (PT2/2)

Saturday 6th July, 2pm

Hackney was proving a trial, with no cask in the Hackney Tap, and then a lame pint of Redemption in the dreadful Old Ship. Chingford's Kings Head had been pub of the day so far., but even then, plonk it is my recent 'Devon Countdown' and I doubt it is making top 25.

But we were making great progress, and the rain is bouncing down once more as we meander south to today's fourth pub .....

Flippin' eck, size of this place, more like a village than a taproom! That's my overriding conclusion of our time spent in Five Points Brewery Taproom, Hackney (2903 / 5063) .... now this is a brewery whose beers I like. No cask again though, and it seems deliberate this time. Key keg benefit of the doubt? Not really sure how the GBG can justify any of Hackney's three newer entries otherwise. Enjoyable though, even if the Jupa was the same price as 1/3 of a Georgian Ogee antique glass, which was still in tact in the BRAPA bag under Ivor Panda's ample cushioning (should've brought Blackpool Soo really, not to fat shame or anything). The England Quarter Final v Switzerland pre-match atmosphere is building. Main taproom full. Long corridor housing loos and brewing equipment is also busy, the clientele more 'international student' down here. We make our way out to the large 'garden', the sun is out, now that was unexpected. We sit at the edge of a table reserved for 80 (EIGHTY) people by Tom Purvis from 5pm. Imagine having 80 friends, I couldn't keep up! Or maybe he just has 40 Blackpool Soo-sized friends? That'd make more sense. Hats off to Five Points, a good place this.

I'm not convinced anyone walks anywhere in London. I guess that's an indication of how great the Tube network is, but although our next pub was listed under Cambridge Heath like we were entering another dimension, it felt very much the Hackney extension.

But it is hands down pub of the day here at the Hare, Cambridge Heath (2904 / 5064) and such a simple yet effective formula. Classic East End bustling street corner boozer. Same guv'nor over 20 years. Friendly. Pool. Football. Nicotine stained fingers. Smells like the Empress Ballroom at Blackpool Winter Gardens, 10pm, first weekend in August. West Ham fans must have a specific aftershave. Must smell Roger Protz more closely next time I bump into him. 'Champion Club' Tim Taylor Landlord, and it tastes it. Problem with TTL is is EVERYWHERE, and that can lead to quality issues. Not here. Pint of the day by a mile. Just as well. The only other one, Five Points Pale is turned around. Two handpumps in four consecutive GBG pubs. That ain't a good ratio. Tempting to stay here for the match but no, must get closer to King's Cross and stick to the plan.

And so to Farringdon we went for my penultimate Central London pub tick, and this is becoming a BRAPA theme, being down to just one pub in so many different regions / counties.

It is raining again as I pose, we arrive somewhere between 16:20-16:30.

One of those joyful all too rare moments where you are conscious that you are experiencing a pub at the peak of its capabilities, for plenty of people were quick to tell me of their less than impressive visits to the Castle, Farringdon (2905 / 5065). Open plan one roomer with plenty of screens was exactly what I wanted to see (you won't often here me sing that!), not too busy, and as Dad dives for the bar, Klinsmann-esque, I pull off a great coup by signing up the one remaining posing table, close to but not behind pillar. The boy dun good. My third time on Tropical Doom Bar (sorry, Solar Wave), it is a bit of mango mess, not up there with the Tetney Lock pint. Thankfully, the TT Landlord drinks better, though not a patch on the Hare's quality. Dad's Halloumi Fries decision is a brilliant one, soaks up the beer and best HF's I've had in a pub to date. The game, like so many England Euro 2024 games, is drifting. When Switzerland score, the atmosphere is one of resignation rather than disappointment. The bloke behind me cheers. I give him a dirty look. So he gets up to talk to me! "I'm not the English hating c**t you might be thinking!" he says in a strong Northern Irish accent "....but I lived in Switzerland for a while". I ask him what part of Ireland he is from. "You know that programme Derry Girls? There!" he says. Errrm, so Derry then. Another bloke comes over to shake my hand. Like someone totally in love with myself, I ask if he's a BRAPA follower. No, just happy and drunk. Another brings his girlffriend over to meet us, which is a bit weird. Strangulated cry goes up from far side, and then we see Saka equalise. Cue wild (well disbelieving) scenes. Full time. Extra time. But we had a train to catch!

Safely on the train out of King's Cross, my battery dies as I'm trying to put the match on iPlayer.

Couple adjacent to us see me struggling, so turn their screen so we can watch. Penalties now! A bloke comes over and asks them to turn the sound down. Not even a quiet coach! He's given short shrift.

England win, and a polite ripple of applause fills the carriage just like when Dick Harden struck that winning boundary at Chester-le-Street circa 2003.

A fun day, though more proof that inner London and cask ale don't go well together.

Join me Tuesday, when a nice man called Paul drives me around some reet Kentish ruralness.

Si