The First Pub
Visit always elicits suspense. First, its location
could be anywhere in the southern half of England;
and second, will that First Pint be worth the wait?
There is an unwritten
tradition that we find at least one pub during the
first day's journey to Northamptonshire, our base
for the visit, and on this occasion we found it in
Eton, Berkshire.
That first pint
rarely stands a fair chance. Such is the rush to get
to that first pint, that we often approach our first
pub at something like 11:30 in the morning. This is
far from an ideal time to assess the relative merits
of an English drinking establishment. The early staff
is often still mopping the floor of debris from the
night before and has not yet had the opportunity to
check on the beer supplies. People have not yet started
to come in, and those that may not have even left
from the night before are rarely good company. We
do give the first pub a little latitude, trying to
imagine a busy Saturday night rather than a sunny
Friday lunchtime (or not quite lunchtime).
Invariably, we
are a forgiving couple, and the first pint is enjoyed
like any other. Our minds are often on what is yet
to come, both that day (the White Horse at Welton
in Northamptonshire of course), and for the balance
of the visit (some fifty pubs were not planned, but
were graciously accepted).
Eton is an odd
little place. Windsor Castle looms over it from the
other side of the river; all the tourists go to Windsor
and not Eton; Eton has Eton College and not much else.
Indeed the Knowhere Guide to Britain details Eton
with a remarkable lack of detail: "Eton is a
very quaint little place with friendly people".
And that is it. That is all that is listed under the
title 'Best Things About Eton'. Rather like the extra-terrestrial
who was sent by his home planet to study Earth with
a view to writing a chapter in the 'Hitch-hikers Guide
to the Galaxy', the travel guide that was the subject
of Douglas Adams’ justly-adored book of the
same name. After several years of mostly visiting
pubs posing as an Englishman called Ford Prefect,
(a common name he thought), the touring alien wrote
"Harmless". When prompted by his superiors
to be rather more productive, he re-wrote the article
completely. "Mostly harmless" was the new
entry in its entirety.
Sadly, Douglas
Adams is no longer with us. So long and thanks for
all the books, Douglas.
Still, the College
attracts some visitors. King Henry VI founded it way
back in 1440, to provide an education for seventy
poor local boys, who, it was hoped, would then go
on to Kings College Cambridge to complete their education.
Today it is one of the most exclusive schools in the
world, producing no less the eighteen Prime Ministers
and dozens of well-known leaders and writers. For
about $6 you can take the basic tour, or fork over
$10 and include a special library tour.
Going on the recommendation
of the Good Beer Guide (more on that particular publication
later) we went down to the Waterman's Arms, tucked
attractively alongside the Eton College Boathouse,
though lacking any direct connection with the River
Thames. The Boathouse looks lovely, but its place
in the sporting life of the College has been taken
over by the new Boathouse, built at Dovey Lake, a
pretty name for a purpose-built 2,200 meter rowing
extravaganza, complete with gymnasium and every amenity
imaginable.
The pub looked
promising enough from the outside, with Fourteenth
Century roots, but inside it was a disappointment
with fruit machines filling perfectly good drinking
space and the music on way too loud.
However, the cider
was good and as we were to discover throughout the
rest of the journey, that was not quite the assumption
we thought it was. Cider ended up being something
of a yardstick: If the cider is well cared-for then
the chances are that the landlord or landlady looks
after everything else quite well too.
To say the first
pub was a disappointment would be over-stating the
issue. There are 60,000 pubs in England, and we had
only just begun! Part of the appeal of pubs is that
we could not guarantee that the first pint would be
spectacular.
If you are staying
in the area, there are many more pubs to explore across
the bridge in Windsor. We were fortunate to be there
in April, before high tourist season, and even then
it was bustling. The change from the sleepiness of
Eton to the activity of Windsor in the space of about
500 yards is quite jarring. Around the feet of the
imposing walls of Windsor Castle, there must be half
a dozen pubs that may be worth a look. As it was,
we had two other tasks to complete: A tour of Windsor
Castle, which was well worth the effort; and a drive
to Northamptonshire and the White Horse in Welton,
worth the drive every single time.