June 2026. Teddington. London.
Two cracking London pubs; one edging the beer, the other the “pub”. Back on the train that does the loop from Waterloo and back via Wimbledon, failing to take the killer shot of the Thames due to being on the wrong side of the train.
And 20 minutes later off at Teddington, famous for Julian Clary, offices, and cheese.
I was only here last September, half minded to take refuge in the Builders Arms during a deluge,
and if I had nipped in for a half I’d have saved myself a return trip today.
It’s a classic suburban Heritage corner pub, top guvnor, sub-£6 pints,
with Twickers (ooh, controversial !), Surrey and Windsor on the bar, which makes a change from Otter.
By now it’s approaching 6 o’clock, and there’s a lively post-work crowd of mixed age which makes it feel more contemporary than it looks.
My notes say “I believe in miracles“, which is either a comment on that £5.60 pint of Shere Drop (Good, 3), or it was Hot Chocolate playing.
To my right the chat is of pension pots and tax relief, which is what you’d hope for in Teddington.
But really, it’s all about those net curtains.
retiredmartin 