April 2007 Archives

‘Accept that some days you are the statue and some days the pigeon.'

Wise words above the bar in the big and bountiful Fox and Hounds pub, in Barnston, Wirral, one of the locals frequented by the Pub Column’s latest visitor, Lady Penelope of Pensby.

‘IT’S all that Jolly Jack Tar stuff, mate.� Penge’s only honorary Scouser, Mr Phil “Wotcha Cock� Key, was reflecting on The Liverpool pub, in James Street.

The maritime theme is everywhere with special attention given to framed pictures of the city’s own flagship HMS Liverpool in its seven different incarnations since the first one, a fifth-rate frigate, built in the city and launched on July 19, 1741.

Grantie was still in a state of shock.
The occasional Pub Column companion had just popped into the branch of Ethel Austin in Aigburth Road to buy an extra cheapo pair of disposable glasses (as you do) when a most disturbing sight greeted him.

THE people of Aintree can be forgiven for being a little blasé about living within a short gallop of one of the greatest sporting events.

In the case of the Grand National, familiarity doesn't breed contempt with the locals, but a continuing amusement and curiosity at the human zoo which descends on the place for three days every April.

FINDING great pubs around Merseyside isn’t like delving into some bottomless pit.

There’s a fear that at some stage there won’t be any more new ones to choose from and this column, to paraphrase Rutger Hauer’s Roy the Replicant in sci-fi classic Blade Runner, “will be lost like tears in rain. Time to die.�