Due to a very busy
period at work, I haven't had many days off or the opportunity to
have any decent and memorable beer experiences.
So, after several
failed attempts to make it to the Tower of London to gaze in wonder
at the ceramic poppy installation, I felt, with it being my day off
and with a whole day free I needed to go through with it. I was
meeting a friend at about 7.30pm in Clerkenwell, London, or
thereabouts any way.
I had the afternoon to
myself and was in a more curious and exploratory mood than usual so
walked. I walked along the Southbank from Waterloo Station to the
Tate Modern Gallery. I wanted to see the progress on the extension,
it was very big.
From there I walked to
London Bridge and crossed over to the North side of the Thames. The
Tower of London was only a five minute walk from there.
When I arrived at about
4pm, it was less than half a busy as I'd imagined it would be. Having
a vision with over more than 100,000 people all tightly crammed
against a temporary fence along its walls but in reality there must
have only been 10,000 at the most. Maybe this was due to the crap
British autumn weather or the time of the day where one can't decide
if it's dark enough to turn on outside lights but is too dark to
really see anything in great detail.
The spectacle was a non
event for me and didn't stir up any emotions that I was expecting it
should. To me it seemed to turn the mote into what one might refer to
as a river of blood, gushing out of one of the windows, into the mote
then around the whole castle or fort or prison, whatever it is
referred to as. The sheer number of poppies was however very
impressive. I walked around the whole landmark and was off in the
direction of the pub.
I had a few major
obstacles to overcome first. The City of London and The Barbican
Centre being a couple.
My interest in
architecture, and how the London skyline is expanding towards the
clouds and forever changing took me on a slight detour. I say slight
detour, I ended up zig-zagging in and around the city. Past the
'Walkie Talkie', Lloyds and around the 'Gherkin', to Tower 42 which
was once the 'Natwest Tower'. I noticed a few new buildings I'd never
seen before or even heard about the construction of. I eventually
made my way through the network of tunnels running right under the
Barbican Centre, past Farringdon and into Clerkenwell.
I made it to the pub a
little before 7pm which gave me plenty of time to relax and cool down
after a two hour marathon walk around London.
The pub was the
'Exmouth Arms' on Exmouth Market, Clerkenwell. It was an old fashioned pub that
clearly looked as though it had recently been bitten by the 'Craft
Beer' bug. It is in no means a bad thing, on the contrary, I think
that it is a great way for pubs to go. They retain the original
character and clients, attract a newer younger audience and also keep
the beer industry going strong.
It was quite busy but I
managed to secure a table and some chairs. I had a book, a glass of
water and a pint and was temporarily in paradise.
With it being a cold,
wet and windy autumnal evening, I thought it necessary to go for a
porter. They had none but I was served a most delightful stout. It
was sublime, so rich, velvety smooth and full of all the burnt malt
flavours you would expect from a decent stout. I didn't take note of
the brewery and name and the only memorable piece of information I
have is that the label had a skull on it. If anyone can shed some
light in helping my find out what this stout was would be ever so
helpful.
My friend arrived so I
put my book down. For hours and hours we spoke, drank, spoke and
drank some more and eventually ordered some gorgeous food. The
calamari was amazing and the sweet potato wedges were so sweet but savoury and just so damned hard to not eat. After only that one pint, they were out
of that stout. For the rest of the night I was on Camden Ink, a great
draught stout similar to Guinness only better. I had noticed the time
and unfortunately had to rush off. I would have loved to and possibly
should have stayed for longer. The consistently disappointing South
West Trains service meant that a simple 40 minute journey ended up
taking me over an hour and a half.
A wonderful little pub, with an alluring upstairs cocktail bar which I must try one day...
One of my favourite breweries of the moment.
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