First published Inpress, Melbourne on 6 October 2010
NB: Each column has a name, but these do not appear in print; printed versions may differ slightly to those displayed here
One of the most famous pubs in London, if not the whole of the UK, was gutted by fire the other week. Thankfully no-one was killed, but as this East End local is a household name, the story attracted substantial media coverage. Actually The Queen Vic is not a real pub at all, but the social hub of long-running BBC soap EastEnders. For writers, pubs are an easy reason to get very diverse groups of people together, and when alcohol is imbibed, tongues are loosened and emotions can run high. The Queen Vic fire was a convenient storyline to allow the BBC to replace the old sets with ones suitable for high definition filming (as well as a way to write out some characters).
Yet EastEnders is far removed from life; the fictional properties these impoverished souls inhabit would be worth near enough to a million quid in the real world, so most likely they’d have sold up and moved to a larger digs in Chingford or Essex, pocketing a nice bit of change in the process. While in EastEnders the pub will rise like a phoenix from the ashes, and re-open in refurbished HD glory (whilst allowing new characters to run it), in the real world it would most likely be converted into a set of expensive flats, as has happened to many pubs near the real-life inspiration of the show’s Albert Square. A Clapton local which was run by two brothers (whom I’m sure were the inspiration for the show’s Mitchell Brothers) has been standing empty for some years. For while we’re being assailed by horror stories of Booze Britain and the terrible cost to health alcohol causes, the truth is that this vital part of British culture seems to be dying a slow death itself.
Yet EastEnders is far removed from life; the fictional properties these impoverished souls inhabit would be worth near enough to a million quid in the real world, so most likely they’d have sold up and moved to a larger digs in Chingford or Essex, pocketing a nice bit of change in the process. While in EastEnders the pub will rise like a phoenix from the ashes, and re-open in refurbished HD glory (whilst allowing new characters to run it), in the real world it would most likely be converted into a set of expensive flats, as has happened to many pubs near the real-life inspiration of the show’s Albert Square. A Clapton local which was run by two brothers (whom I’m sure were the inspiration for the show’s Mitchell Brothers) has been standing empty for some years. For while we’re being assailed by horror stories of Booze Britain and the terrible cost to health alcohol causes, the truth is that this vital part of British culture seems to be dying a slow death itself.
Once I would give directions to people based on the pubs they’d pass on the way (left at the Dog & Duck and down the lane beside The Crooked Billet), but so many have vanished that this is becoming increasingly impossible. Many London bus routes have stops named after the pubs found there, but these are disappearing as well. The 76 still terminates at the same place, but the bus destination no longer reads Tottenham Swan as this infamous late-night institution is currently being converted into units. The 55 may end its journey at Bakers Arms (Leyton), but the pub itself recently became a betting shop. And while (The) Nag’s Head (Holloway) is still there, it has been painted black inside and renamed The Gaff - and become the London home of the stoner rock movement.
These thoughts were precipitated when a friend contacted me to say a November visit was on the cards and that I must take her to a good old English pub. This could be a problem; most pubs in the centre are atrocious, and one of my favourites (and the only real ‘pub’ left in Shoreditch) Owl & Pussycat has recently been gutted. The Stag’s Head (another favourite nearby) has been forced to close as their rent became too high to be viable. After some thought, the best one I could think of was in Reading, a commuter belt town in Berkshire some 40 miles west of London, and not really handy for a shifty half. It’s not just my local favourites that are calling final time - The British Beer and Pub Association (BBPA) has reported that up to five pubs close permanently each day, which is up to a third more than last year’s already disturbingly high figures. Outside London, it may be even worse; the definition of a village is pub, post office and church, and in the BBPA reported 893 village pubs have closed in the past year. Meanwhile, the remaining pubs have seen the sharpest year-on-year decline in alcohol consumption since 1948, a significant 13% less than in 2004.
Obviously there are numerous factors that have led to the current state of things. The smoking ban had an impact (although for many it made pubs accessible again), while the recession has made cheap supermarket booze an appealing alternative an expensive night out, and changes to London’s cultural make-up mean there are now more communities in which alcohol plays no part at all. Small independent pubs must find it hard to compete with larger chains in a market where low prices are ever more important. Now there’s talk of the new government making changes to the 2003 Licensing Act. Although it failed in its aims of a bringing European café society to the UK, it did bring sensible drinking laws to the UK, meaning you could finally get a beer after 11pm without being a member of a secret society. With further austerity measures still to come, the future of this great institution is not looking good. So the next time someone asks "What ya havin’?" I’ll be hoping it’s a pub to drink it in.
These thoughts were precipitated when a friend contacted me to say a November visit was on the cards and that I must take her to a good old English pub. This could be a problem; most pubs in the centre are atrocious, and one of my favourites (and the only real ‘pub’ left in Shoreditch) Owl & Pussycat has recently been gutted. The Stag’s Head (another favourite nearby) has been forced to close as their rent became too high to be viable. After some thought, the best one I could think of was in Reading, a commuter belt town in Berkshire some 40 miles west of London, and not really handy for a shifty half. It’s not just my local favourites that are calling final time - The British Beer and Pub Association (BBPA) has reported that up to five pubs close permanently each day, which is up to a third more than last year’s already disturbingly high figures. Outside London, it may be even worse; the definition of a village is pub, post office and church, and in the BBPA reported 893 village pubs have closed in the past year. Meanwhile, the remaining pubs have seen the sharpest year-on-year decline in alcohol consumption since 1948, a significant 13% less than in 2004.
Obviously there are numerous factors that have led to the current state of things. The smoking ban had an impact (although for many it made pubs accessible again), while the recession has made cheap supermarket booze an appealing alternative an expensive night out, and changes to London’s cultural make-up mean there are now more communities in which alcohol plays no part at all. Small independent pubs must find it hard to compete with larger chains in a market where low prices are ever more important. Now there’s talk of the new government making changes to the 2003 Licensing Act. Although it failed in its aims of a bringing European café society to the UK, it did bring sensible drinking laws to the UK, meaning you could finally get a beer after 11pm without being a member of a secret society. With further austerity measures still to come, the future of this great institution is not looking good. So the next time someone asks "What ya havin’?" I’ll be hoping it’s a pub to drink it in.
© James McGalliard 2010
