BRAPA .... OXFORDSHIRE COUNTDOWN FINALE (PART 5 of 5, PUBS 6-1)

Evening pop pickers / pub tickers / window lickers,

Here we go. The moment all your hard work on this Tuesday (even though I'm writing this intro on Monday evening) has been gearing towards .......

6. White Hart, Wolvercote, Oxford

Checked in, final pub before kick off determination

I'd just helped Daddy BRAPA check in at his Premier Inn at the end of Botley Road (by which I mean I'd gone to the loo and then complained how his room is more spacious than the funny little bedsit where I'm staying). There was just time for one more tick before the cross-town trip to the Kassam. Each pub had incrementally improved today by 1.0 BRAPAJoules (BJ's? Maybe not) and this just edged out Kidlington into top spot. There is a Morse episode called 'The Wolvercote Tongue' but our abiding memory of this excellent pub is the 'Wolvercote Tum'. I've been to well over 5,000 pubs now but this was the best tummy I've seen. Couldn't take photo as I don't wanna be cancelled for fat-shaming, but look, I'm not getting any slimmer despite my best Keto efforts, none of us are. Are you? I just hope this fun chap has grandkids. It was like a climbing frame. Well actually, it was more like a steep step on a Victorian porch. A viewing ledge jutting from a cliff in Madeira. Or one of those Tiger Bloomer loaves you get from a farm shop, but you left it out in the Shropshire rain. A modern wonder. We left the bar area, went around a corner, but it is still visible! In awe. Such a homely pub too. How many pubs give Colin his own chair? 8.5/10 carpet. And the stout is glorious. Wish we'd stayed here, because by 10pm, I'm wondering whether Tim Walter really is the man to lead us to glory ....

5. Eagle Tavern, Witney

Much like Shakira's hips, mobility scooters don't lie. A pub with one parked outside will ALWAYS be at the upper echelons of any pub review. Like a fishtank, or better still a Sooty charity box, RetiredMartin taught me that. Witney was superb. And this was my favourite. Just. Slightly less chaotic and more controlled than the neighbouring Angel, you could say 'more boring', but at least you had room to breathe and swing a cat here, though there was no cat, and I wouldn't be so cruel. There is a dog wearing a poppy pin-badge though, trying not to bleed out before Remembrance Sunday. When you reach your mid-forties as I have, being able to sit in the comfort of a far corner close to a roaring fire nursing a pulverising Hook Norton guest just about trumps observation of madcap locals at close quarters. Especially when you have a secret packet of McCoy's to smuggle. I'd entered the pub to a late lunch rush. This is actually one of the foodier pubs in my top ten. "Bear with me, I won't be long" chirrups attractive blonde barmaid to a group of northern sounding blokes just in front of me, as she balances bowls of Eton Mess under each arm. "Ohhh, don't rush, you are doing an awesome job!" they gush as one. Deary me lads, back in your pants please, and you are far too old to be using 'awesome' in this context. When they do get served, they start complimenting her 'beer' knowledge - I'm pretty sure all she said was that Hook Norton was a local brewery! Incredible scenes.

4. Cross Keys, Wallingford

A false dawn at this cracker as, despite having correctly written down '4pm opener' in my GBG, I try to break in an hour early. South Moreton had discombobulated my sense of space n time. Front door seems jammed. Hmmmm, funny that(!) But if at first you don't succeed, try try again, and finally, I manage to push my way in through the back. Dog goes berserk! Initially I think it's jealous because I'm giving the gorgeous #PubCat more attention, but actually knows I shouldn't be here! To add a layer of confusion, landlady thinks I'm a beer delivery driver (did she not spot my invisible lorry?) and takes me around the front to see the landlord. When I try ordering a beer, all becomes clear, and I'm led back outside, dog actually clawing and biting at my bum til I'm outta the door! An hour and one post-emptive tick later (a friendly hotelly place called The Royal), I return. "Thought you'd be back!" chuckles the landlord, a gaggle of hearty locals including Dude With Rod Stewart Style (DWRSS) already seem well oiled. A big Bass fan like me is DWRSS, the reason it is often a guest beer here. "Dog's not around is it?" I ask our host, only half-jokingly apprehensive. "No, been taken for a walk". I hoped it was a very long one, and it was. I order my third ever pint of the surprisingly good Greene King Hallowe'en vehicle 'Blood Hound' - a choc orange stout. "Getting this in tribute to your dog" I say, quite pleased with my quick wit for once. He's a top guy so he laughs, then the locals take me under their wing at this no frills boozer, which feels more Bury/Bolton/Ramsbottom than Oxon. Excellent pub. Good things really do come to those who (are forced to) wait!

3. Gardeners Arms (Plantation Road), Oxford

The smell of gingerbread and damp wood greets me at this backstreet gem, last orders approaching on my first night in Oxford. The few remaining scattered customers smile sleepily (one lady does a sort of yawn smile) as I approach the bar. My seventh pub since arriving in Oxford 3pm. My accommodation is disappointing, the road is totally closed off near the station, Abingdon hadn't been much to write home about. Back in Oxford, Grapes, White Rabbit and Jolly Farmers had been decent, but it was only this pub which got my juices flowing and gave me hope for the week ahead. 'Bring Your Porter to the Slaughter' was the black beer I'd been crying out for all evening. Colin smuggles an Actimel at the far end of the room, and I finally realise how 'tired and emotional' this gentle thrummer is making me so I decide (despite the relative short walk to the centre) to order an Uber back to my weird bedsit out west! But the App is just coming up with bikes! What are they gonna do? Tag me onto a Botley Road Uber Eats order. 'Here's a side of BRAPA with your sticky chicken bao bun?' I ask the lovely bar staff who confirm there is no Uber around here so write me down their favoured local taxi service. No phone signal indoors so I trot back out into the rain to make the call. All good. I make a point of returning to the bar to tell them I'm sorted, and how this is easily my favourite of seven pubs today, and they seem genuinely touched. Heart warming late night bliss.

2. Morris Clown, Bampton

Having spent 20 minutes warming up in Witney Wetherspoons (where I forgot to have an alcoholic drink, so watch that come back to bite me in 2026), it was time to catch the bus to Bampton for 5pm opening, dusk now falling. An interesting one before I arrive thanks to the GBG description (which are usually drier than a piece of toast in the Atacama) telling me Courage renamed it the Morris Clown in the 70's, but the fuming local Morris men boycotted it for quarter of a century as they aren't clowns, they are very sensible chaps (well, 'fools' which apparently is better). It was also my first tick on page 346 meaning I now have a tick on every Oxon page .... 'tis the small things in life! This was indeed my final Ox tick of the holiday and what a way to end .... a gem. The bar is already heaving with local furry woodland folk, 5:05pm, and a rangey bar at that. But what a welcoming bunch, none of this howl at lah-di-dah Sutton Courtenay moon malarkey, it was all burring accents encouraging me to get my elbows in and get a pint down my neck. Most were ready for their second already! The carpet should have its own Grade II listing, talk about worn away, and with the benches, dartboard and some funny French prints (Toulouse-Lautrec SeeTheLizards informs me), and sexy rouge colour scheme, this was the kinda place you want to quietly roll under the bench 11pm and start again the following morning. A slight lack of heat all that kept it off top spot.

1. North Star, Steventon

The best pub experiences always have an ethereal quality, the kind where you wake up the following morning and wonder if you dreamt it. Or at least entered another dimension. It probably helped that I was six pints deep, and sitting alone in Wantage's Royal Oak feeling quite alone (no offence Colin), I spy a short bus ride to Steventon. Tick number 7 was on! Bit of shame then that I immediately fall asleep on said bus, waking somewhere 'twixt Steventon and Milton. I press the button first opportunity I get and leap off. Half an hour walk. Could've been worse. The always good humoured Google Maps walks me down a railway siding, wet grass up to my waist, the torch on my low battery phone the only light. I'm relieved when the pub lurches into view. Lovely shaped building. I'm blissfully unaware until I see my TwXtter comments the following morning that the then pub landlord drove a JCB into the side of pub, causing much damage when he couldn't get served New Year's 2003! I open the door and immediately feel like I've gone back a couple of centuries. Should be sobering, made me drunker. One of those bar-less pubs like Bridge at Topsham or nearly every Thanet Micro. Can't see what beers are on, my eyes haven't adjusted, so I open my mouth and hope someone either pours something in it, or tells me what to do. One of the two things did happen. Then I'm suddenly sat near the glowing embers of a fire opposite the chatty regulars. Colin got us talking cos like them, he's 'of the earth', but my BRAPA exploits rouse some interest and soon the landlord is called over and what a lovely chap he is, didn't look a JCB kind a guy, takes me on a short guided tour of the pub, showing me the scrapbook / photo album, my head was too fuzzy to take it all in but I make lots of cooing noises , but end up leaving 10 mins early than I need to, I'm THAT paranoid about late night buses / staying awake, but what an incredible experience. A pub I really dig (geddit?).

And that concludes my first serious foray into Oxfordshire. Hope I got it kinda right re the rankings but its all subjective bollocks innit? Map at close of play ......

Only two I missed which were on my 'maybe' list - Long Wittenham which I forgot existed, and Brightwell-cum-Sotwell where I simply ran out of time due to their mid afternoon closure when I realised that road from Didcot isn't walkable!

Still, I got plenty more done than expected, and I hope to be back next summer to crack Banburyshire. And when I get closer to a Greater London conclusion, a couple of spring trips to those closer to the Berks / Bucks border. Ashbury can wait til I'm back near Swindon (what a prospect!)

Join me Friday, for a post-Ox bonus day of SE London ticking.

Thanks for reading, Si