
This afternoon our post comes to you courtesy of Ruben’s Coffee in Bromborough, while I wait for a micro to open.
Hammersmith is about as far from Bromborough as you can get.
Look ! Even the cars are paved with gold!

Finding your way out of the shopping centre that encloses the station is easy for anyone who has found their way out of Birmingham New Street, which rules me out.
I’m sure I’ve done a Spoons in Hammersmith recently. I’ve definitely been in the Swan, which is rather more enticing than the utilitarian charms of the William Morris.


But that’s the way the GBG cookie crumbles.
This Spoons is packed with blokes, most of whom are reminiscing about Ireland and about to break into a rendition of ” Fairytale of New York”.
They’re here not just for the cheap beer, but the real sense of community you get when you’re paying 3 quid a pint less than the punters next door (probably).

I resist the temptation to ask if I can use my CAMRA voucher to bring the price of Ruddles down to 49p, which is what DH Lawrence paid when he drank Doom Bar here.
Instead, I cough up (don’t worry, not Covid) £1.49 for a pint of Old Hooky (foamy, NBSS 3). Because I love cask and think we should pay more to save it.

What else can I show you ? The carpet ?

OK. It’s a bit dull. And so is the next one, round this corner.

Hammersmith is dull, and The Clash have a lot to answer for if you believed otherwise.
If that carpet is dull then I’m not taking the right drugs!
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Ken Booth uk pop reggae
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If Adolf Hitler flew in today
They’d send a limousine anyway
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I stayed in Hammersmith for a week in 2010. I thought that it was dull then too – doesn’t have the village feel of so many places in London.
The riverside’s OK in good weather though.
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The riverside is rather nice, especially when viewed from the terrace of the Dove.
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I dislike the Dove intensely with its combination of table reservations for diners and bar flies.
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West London CAMRA seem to put quite a few Wetherspoons in the GBG.
Always found the William Morris to be reliable, but one of those pubs whose real function is to meet someone/kill time in before going to the Apollo/the River/getting the Tube home.
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What I find amazing is that the advocate of free lurve ended up editor of the Telegraph!
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Aye, there’s hope for the poor old downtrodden metropolitan liberal elite yet, Bill.
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How things have changed at the Torygraph!!
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Cask Conditioned Country Ale no less
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