February 2026. Letchworth Garden City.
Not a great day to explore Letchworth on foot, and apart from pubs and “Marty Supreme” at the cinema there’s not a lot to do apart from loiter in pubs, but you can’t visit and not see the old underwear factory. It’s now offices where people sit at desks and encourage you to sue ill-fitting underwear suppliers, I guess.
Some attractive housing in our first Garden City; it was quite a draw for well-to-do worthies in the 1920s, the Hebden Bridge of its day.
Not much of a pub scene, mind, so the Broadway Hotel must have been a blessing when it opened in 1961, two years before the arrival of The Beatles and *e***l **t*******e.
It’s a beauty, from bay windows to font to sign,
but of course it’s that magical yellow light that draws me in, perhaps for the first time ever as I really can’t remember a drink here.
Perhaps I’d popped in to use the phone.
I enter to the sound of Heart, and the smell of boiled cabbage.
It’s a rambling hotel bar with a couple of beers from a Bury St Edmunds middle-class homebrewer,
and I neither expect, or get, a great half (NBSS 2.5). Mind you, I read somewhere that pints are better than halves, so there’s that.
BUT, and with pubs there’s always a big wobbly “but”, it’s worthwhile just to sit here for a quarter of an hour and watch an efficient gastropub operation on a busy Sunday afternoon.
The young staff seem genuinely happier than the customers; it’s a joy to watch their teamwork and their quiet efficiency in the face of fussy orders.
“The gentleman who wants a Heineken Zero wants it in a pint glass with the lemon in first“.
The chap opposite seems alarmed to be getting two (2) pizzas when he ordered one. I hope he’ll give me one of his, but he doesn’t, devouring the first in five minutes. It’s not Man v Food mate !
An unexpected joy, for all the wrong reasons.
retiredmartin 
Wasn’t there even a temperance hotel prior to that? By 1963 everybody would be sitting at home, glued to Doctor Who by the glow of their lava lamps. Who’d go out for a pint of Red Barrel given that alternative?
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Apparently not, just a short lived bar with no beer called Skittles that had closed by 1923. Ideal town to be used as location for that “World’s End” pub crawl film then !
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“I enter to the sound of Heart, and the smell of boiled cabbage.” Surely the beginning of a great novel.
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I fondly remember the smell of heart, slowly cooked in my mother’s oven.
We were thankful for offal when I were a lad.
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The sound of boiled cabbage is less appealing, though I never did like those soft rock bands that Old Mudgie was so keen on. I’ve been wondering what he’d have thought of pubs as I write these recent posts.
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Heart the radio station, or Heart the Wilson sisters is question on all of our minds. (Well, probably just me)
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Oh, good point young Komakino. Definitely the Wilsons, “All I wanna (ugh) do etc etc” not “Alone“.
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“Love me do” was a hit for the Beatles in 1962. The other had perhaps been around a bit longer – according to Eddy Cochran fans.
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Time is a bourgeois construct.
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“there’s not a lot to do apart from loiter in pubs”
I think that’s a plus in Ireland. Even the hint of rain means one can nip into a pub to avoid the chance of getting wet. ☺️
“but you can’t visit and not see the old underwear factory.”
Yes but, once I see it, I won’t be able to unsee it!
“It’s now offices where people sit at desks and encourage you to sue ill-fitting underwear suppliers, I guess.”
Phew! Sorry, I misunderstood. When said ‘old underwear factory’ I thought they sold used undies!**
** (apparently that is, or was, a thing in Japan)
“it was quite a draw for well-to-do worthies in the 1920s, the Hebden Bridge of its day.”
(looks down)
Blimey. That looks a bit like the house that Tom Hardy lived in, in the TV series ‘Taboo’.
“two years before the arrival of The Beatles and *e***l **t*******e.”
Mental Interviewee?
“but of course it’s that magical yellow light that draws me in, ”
Naw. That’s just your phone camera acting wonky, again.
“Perhaps I’d popped in to use the phone.”
(looks down)
You’re old enough to know how at least. 😉
“I enter to the sound of Heart, and the smell of boiled cabbage.”
Pfft. The sound of Heart was someone passing gas; hence the smell of boiled cabbage.
“and I neither expect, or get, a great half (NBSS 2.5). Mind you, I read somewhere that pints are better than halves, so there’s that.”
That does ring a bell. 😏
“The young staff seem genuinely happier than the customers; it’s a joy to watch their teamwork and their quiet efficiency in the face of fussy orders.”
My darling wife, who spent 20 years with hungry servicemen/women across the meal line at the mess hall, always said ‘Don’t bring your personal problems to work. Always serve them with a smile.” Wise words.
““The gentleman who wants a Heineken Zero wants it in a pint glass with the lemon in first“.”
Blimey. I think my smile would’ve been a rictus by then.
“I hope he’ll give me one of his, but he doesn’t, devouring the first in five minutes. It’s not Man v Food mate !”
So, basically, he’s the ‘you’ of pizzas, instead of hastily quaffing pints, at times.
“An unexpected joy, for all the wrong reasons.”
Heh.
Cheers
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Yes, mental interviewee. With two e’s.
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I got it right!
(don’t ask me how)
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