You are currently browsing the monthly archive for December, 2007.
Good but not as good as 28 Days Later.
I lived in Marlow for nearly ten years from 1996. The Ship was always the boozer of choice. It was a little like an independent student pub for people who had, to their regret, graduated into the world of work. The music was good, the decor dirty but funny, the barstaff clever and engaged. Imagine, then, my horror when in the Autumn of last year I saw that it had been closed for a full refurb - OMG, not another poncey wine bar!
It re-opened in December and, much to my relief, they haven’t cocked it up. Much of the layout and decor is the same, just less grubby. The landlord (shortish, roundish, blonde chap who poured his personality into the place) has simply tidied things up, fixed the broken bits and adjusted the parts of the set-up that really didn’t make any sense and must have been annoying him for years. The behind the bar area is slightly bigger so the staff aren’t all crushed in and he’s moved the toilets to the back of the building so that the main drinking area is bigger (it used to get hellish cramped as it is so popular).
However, I’m reserving judgement on a couple of items. A few flat screen TVs have appeared and they are always on - I don’t like TVs in pubs as pubs are for talking not gawping. The background music used to be pretty cool, the staff were ahead of the curve in picking up the latest indie/punk lite/grunge pop and playing their iPods through the stereo, now the music is pub-standard rock/pop - it just wafts around and isn’t worth listening to. The girls behind the bar are all young Sir William Borlaise alumni and I’m not sure that they’re ready to stamp their characters on the place, over the top of the bar manager. Obviously, the funny newspaper clippings are all gone - I hope they return in time.
Anyway, it’s still the best and most genuine, independent boozer in town which we will travel from Maidenhead to spend nights in. Well done all (just turn the TVs off!).
Beautiful but is this the least friendly town in Britain?
We often go into Henley as it is the prettiest and best preserved Victorian riverside town on the Thames. Apart from the general quaintness, there are nice shops and plenty of good eating and drinking options.
Recently, we started to wonder where we might end up living in five years time and Henley, though expensive, has decent housing within what we think we might afford. With that in mind we drove to Henley with other than our normal objectives in mind: what would it be like to live there?
Clearly, the way the town has grown organically and the single point of entry from the East (due to the river) present traffic issues. We knew that; you either accept the fact or don’t put Henley on your list of places to live in the first place. It was not the traffic but the experience with the locals which secured the town’s removal from our list.
Firstly, I pulled alongside a car parked on a big sweeping bend on an unrestricted side road, just outside the town’s main centre, to parallel park into the gap behind. I was stationary, in reverse gear (reverse lights on) and indicating into the gap. Some late middle-aged lady in a VW Polo came along, not paying any attention, suddenly saw me, vented herself aft, beeped her horn and threw me the look of daggers as she lurched past as if it were my fault that she could not drive.
Next, Elaine was walking out of Monsoon and accidentally and lightly knocked into an old chap. Elaine immediately and genuinely apologised as she’s nice like that. The old guy threw her the look of daggers and huffed off without saying a word.
Then, I approached the queue at the till in WH Smith to buy a paper. There was an early middle-aged lady not quite in the queue but not far enough away to be wholy discounted, especially as she was distracted reading a magazine. I said, in my nice as pie voice, “Excuse me, are you in the queue?” as I didn’t want to push in. She barely looked up, and then only to to look down her nose, breathed in and said, “No. Not yet.” Then she carried on reading the magazine. What a witch!
Then we went into Cafe Rouge and they were all stuck up assholes as well.
Underneath the pretty exterior, Henley is overrun with scum. Yes, these people have money. No, they are not better than us or anyone else. In my book that isn’t human behaviour so I don’t know what it is that populates Henley - scum will do as a term. I do not want to have anything to do with that kind of attitude and as a result, not only will we never move to Henley, I am happy to bestow on Henley, not the Village in Bloom prize 2007, but the Least Friendly Place in Britain award.
To all those late 30s and early 40s couples we saw pushing their IVF twins around town (five sets of twins in ten minutes - is that a record?), good luck with the town you have chosen.
It strikes me that canoeing doesn’t get enough publicity. It’s time to put that right so I’ve come up with a series of adverts that ‘those in power’ might want to use…
(If you can do better than this, feel free to borrow my template)
I took one look at the chef and knew it was going to be great.
Christmas Common sits on the edge of an escarpment. To the east lies the hills, valleys and beech woods of the Chilterns. To the west, 300 meters below, is the Oxford plain. This ancient sea bed extends as far as the eye can see, with a point of interest provided by the Didcot power station’s chmineys, rising through the haze to magnify whatever colour of light is washing through the fields. For the view from the road between Christmas Common and Stokenchurch:
Anyway, back to the boozer; the Fox and Hounds from the outside looks like many of the fine Brakspeare pubs in the Chilterns. The inside too has the typical Brakspeare feel, beams and open fires but with an eye on the here and now. The beer was up to standard and the food was exceptional. At £10 - £14 for a main course, in my opinion, it was good value for money (for the area - obviously, that price would come as a shock in a Nepalise Dhal Bhat shop). I had artichokes with (half a giant) squid and chopped Italian sausage in a chilli sauce. It was clearly put together by someone who knew food.
After putting paid to the squid, I walked round the nearby sculpture park and had a look at the view from a marked nature trail on the opposite side of the road.
Altogether, a killer Chiltern day (and a good one for mountain bikers too).
***UPDATE***
They’ve closed the Chiltern Sculpture Park, which is a shame, but the nature trail and view are still there.
