Crossing boundaries

Considering that debate still rages about the 1974 county boundary changes I would tread very lightly if I was proposing any boundary changes myself. But CAMRA currently has a plan to change its branch structure so no branch straddles CAMRA region or county boundaries. From what I can gather it's a top down proposal from the National Executive. 

It has lead to much wailing and gnashing of teeth on CAMRA's internal forum, with 877 comments at the time of writing. And my inbox has been busy with disgruntled members sharing their displeasure on my local branch's email list, for my local branch is in two counties. 

But for how much longer?

Personally speaking I'm a bottom up man so am dubious about the proposal. Though a devout member of our Mother Church I'm not vey active in the branch, but it is the branch I've been in since I was a teenager so I would be sad to see it end. Our branch chairman has written a long reply detailing how the branch came to be and why its current structure works. 

I've also seen Good Beer Guide tickers make the point that "GBG Counties" are a law unto themselves, which makes imposing strict borders against the wishes of those on the ground all the more peculier peculiar. For the sake of Real Ale I hope an amicable solution can be found, the trouble with pissing off volunteers is volunteers are free to piss off. 

An online petition against the changes can be found here. 

The Rotherhithe Round

There are few genuinely innovative things in beer. So when me and a mate discovered a pub crawl that not only loops round to end where it starts but involves going both over and under the Thames I knew we were on to something rare and special. #PubPeople I bring you The Rotherhithe Round. 

It didn't start well for me as I'd made a mess of the public transport. Fortunately my mate Luca was chilled about my late arrival at the Prospect of Whitby, our starting point. I had a pint of best from a brewery I forget, but it came in jugs which gives the pub a bonus point. It's a big pub but it was rammed so we didn't get to sit on the riverside and only stayed for one. 

We headed down the river to The Grapes, which was also rammed. 

Luca studied philosophy so I was able to ask him about Platonism, something I've become curious about thanks to listening to the Secret History of Western Esotericism Podcast. I'd previously thought of pagans as primitives that believed any old bollocks but in fact they believed in extremely sophisticated bollocks. Certainly from where the SHWEP has got to so far it does seem that “the safest characterization of the European philosophical tradition is that it consists of a series of footnotes to Plato.”

But more importantly the pub served Landlord so we stayed for two (2) pints. Not the sort of thing you normally do on a pub crawl but hey, I love Landlord. Our extended stay gave meant the conversation had time to get round to fact the actor Ian McKellen owns the pub. Which explained why there was a statue of a wizard in a corner and a staff behind the bar. 

A wizard's staff has a knob on the end

We were on to the innovation after that by getting on a boat, which I think it's fair to say is not something normally done when on pub crawls. 

We called in at The Blacksmiths Arms, where I can report that the Pride was drinking well. 

South London just didn't have the crowds we'd found North of the river which was a great improvement. There seemed to be some locals in this pub which I suspect was not the case in the previous two. We got a seat in the courtyard out the back where we sat in the sun as we ate a meal. A pub crawl is a marathon not a sprint so it's good to have some sustenance. And something to soak the booze up. 

Ready for the next round we walked along the river using psychogeography to find the next pub. Nowadays this term seems to get used for wandering around aimlessly, which four (4) pints into a pub crawl was certainly not something we were doing. Oh no! So looking at the housing we were walking past we discussed how changes in capitalism have led to what was once working class areas being socially cleansed and redeveloped for more affluent residents. 

The first pub we found was The Salt Quay, a barn of a Greene King pub, which is not something I would normally seek out. But the psychogeography had worked a treat and this one was a winner. The one cask beer was something I'd never heard of and I can't remember the name. But it tasted of American hops and was really nice. There was no trouble getting a riverside seat here, which was key to completing our ground (or should that be water?) breaking innovation. 

Settled in our riverside seats Luca took in the view and to my surprise said "is that the Prospect of Whitby?" And sure enough on the other side of the river was our starting point. 

This of course got us thinking how we could get there. Google quickly found the Rotherhithe Tunnel for us, which actually has pedestrian access. Google also found us such gems as never walk through the Rotherhithe Tunnel. But five (5) pints in were we going to let a mile long fume filled nightmare stop us? Oh no! So off we went. Annoyingly you can't get down the stairs at the ventilation shafts but this did mean we got to do the the full mile of noxious horror. 

Take it from me, we did not need the sign telling us there were exhaust fumes and not to loiter. It really was toxic.

When we finally emerged into the daylight and could go back to breathing air not fumes we found we were close to Cable Street, site of the famous battle where the fascists did not pass despite the best efforts of the police. Though I'm sure it doesn't count as psychogeography if you know where you're going we detoured down there whilst discussing physical opposition to fascism, something that has sadly become more necessary again. 

Arriving back at The Prospect of Whitby we were able to get a seat outside this time and look over the river our previous stop.

A short swim or a long and toxic walk away

And with that we had completed The Rotherhithe Round, perhaps the greatest innovation in pub crawls since 1911. 

My public transport woes continued on the journey home but my spirits were high. We had achieved something that can only done by using the combined power of alcohol and stupidity.