
Yes, a sneaky Jam reference to herald a second visit to the Smoke since life returned on the Heaventeenth, sneaked into a visit to my parents (yes, Chung Hwa was visited).
You’ll remember that in August I prepared this lovely map of my central ticking needs,

and James and I managed to walk from Camden to Notting Hill and back via the majestic Marble Arch Mound.
But we only managed 3 ticks that Sunday afternoon, partly because the City sleeps on Sundays, and I was determined to make more inroads on a gorgeous Friday afternoon.
So I went underground (another Jam reference), and 8 minutes after arriving at the King’s Cross stop I was at the photogenic Barbican.

I LOVE the City of London; all weird tubes nicked from the Pompidou, ancient churches used by underwriters and the Financial Reporting Council (surely the subject of a barbed Weller lyric on All Mod Cons ?).

Simon was here a month ago, and I noted with relief the beer was only £5.10, a saving of nearly 27%* on my Notting Hill pint.

The City seemed very quiet. I’ve loved my trips to commercial London when the new GBG comes out in September October November, rubbing shoulders with bankers in ancient yards and hoping I wouldn’t have to take my dull pint of Pride back.
Perhaps Fridays always were quieter, with Hugo and Helen wanting to catch the early train back to Horsham and Herstmonceux.
But the Wood Street, despite being tucked into a set of flats/mansions was merely ticking over at 5pm, the supposed golden hour.

I thought I’d start with a half, so as not to need to nip in a Fullers pub on the way to Pub No. 2.

My brain whirred “Four pounds ninety ? For a half ?“
“Doh ! Sorry. Three pounds“‘
I make that a half pint premium of 21%.*. Think I preferred being ripped off on a pint.

Still, it’s a pleasant, buzzy neighbourhood pub with pleasant modern soul I couldn’t get Shazam to identify, and the Harvey’s was cool and sweet. I wrote down “3.5”, which MAY have been generous but always trust your first instinct, eh ? Unless it’s to not go for a wee.

Pondering the weird pool art, I set off for a bit of a walk to Temple.

*The Financial Reporting Council may wish to review those calculations
Never leave a pub without peeing. Southworth rule.
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Unless there’s a welcoming platform en route.
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Smiths and Jam references on the same day; cookin’ on gas!
Looked to see if I’d been to any of the ones you need, to try for a spurious sense of triumph, but without avail. Never mind.
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They look quite new, don’t they Bill ? Brewery taps, micros, gastros…
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With prices like that, it is no mystery why people don’t go to pubs.
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Yet I pay £3 – £3.50 in Sheffield, and in a week when I visited Rotherham and Wigan it was often less than £3, even after the supposed Covid cost increases. Good Beer, too.
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