:: The Wendy House ::

Nestled in a quiet backstreet on the traffic island that is created downtown by the (A4) one-way system (London and Kings Roads) is this pleasant suprise.  The Eldon Arms. 

Midweek the inside the Eldon Arms was packed with the Ladies darts teams.  The garden also looked pretty busy judging by the glasses returned to the bar by the very polite Reading University Agricultural students who had graduated earlier that day.   I didn’t notice any music,  there was a quiz (gambling) machine near the bar but no-one using it.

I tried the Henry’s Original IPA (3.6 ABV).  Well kept, tasty and sufficiently weak for me to quoff 2 pints after work midweek.  Result!  Certainly an improvement on the more shop-purchasable ubiquitous, similar strength, Boddingtons. 

Upon hearing of my expedition to this hostelry a local celebrity wrote:

hear you are paying a visit to the Eldon Arms. Good choice! It’s a lovely little old-fashioned backstreet pub, traditional and with friendly staff. I’m told that Anne and Brian are Reading’s longest-serving landlady and landlord, although I’m sure Bernie and Jane at The Retreat (a short stroll from The Eldon) are also hot contenders for this title.

The Eldon Arms is a Wadworth tied pub, so the selection of beers is mostly restricted to this brewery, but the choice is fine within this range and well kept. My favourite is Bishop’s Tipple, but at 5.5% ABV it’s not to be chugged too quickly! If you’re after something lighter and more summery, try the Horizon. Avoid Pint-Size Mild, if they have it, unless you like mild; personally, I don’t get on with it and this West Berks brew is a good reminder of why

I used to visit this pub frequently on a Wednesday night for their pub quiz, in the days when I worked at the Prudential and had the luxury of rolling in at 10 the next morning. Now I have to drive to south Oxfordshire for 8:30am I don’t go so often! Their quiz is quite a different experience from The Lyndhurst one as it is set and presented by the person who won it last week! It’s a bit like the Eurovision Song Contest in that respect. I’ve won it a couple of times and it’s quite fun to set it, as long as you have a fairly clear week and plenty of time to put it together! I’ve also deliberately pulled back to second place at least once to avoid having to set it when I knew I hadn’t the time! I really must go again soon

Well, that’s all I have. Feel free to ignore all of the above if you want to enjoy the experience of visiting with no preconceptions. However, if you’re reading this sentence then it’s probably too late

Happy pubbing

I’ve taken to treating myself to a full roast Sunday lunch in the Nags head with Yorkshire pudding and everything for a bargain £6 with a choice of 12 real ales on tap.  Luxury.  The music is normally very good,  um,  meaning classics from my teens,  last Sunday they played the whole of Dark Side of the Moon over lunch.  

For the full experience of Sunday beer, food, friendly people and music,  I really recommend the Nags Head just off Oxford Road on Russel Street.  The only down-side was the Broccoli but I’ve learned to live with this personal handicap.

Overheard in the Hogshead:

Its housing for the morally deprived

Midweek I’m doing the laundry and making other homesy stuff which is not half as much fun as when the kitties are trying to make things not run smoothly.  So I toddled off to check-out one of the local pubs

Wendy:  do you have and dark ales?

Barboy:  Just Newcastle brown and that comes in a bottle.

I’m disturbed.  Every self-respecting British beer drinker knows that Newcastle brown comes in a bottle.  The barboy felt he had to tell me.  Is this because my not quite English accent shows with just the one phrase above?

GADZOOKS! 

There’s me thinking I’d maintained my Englishness through and through and now people are telling me that Newcastle brown comes in a bottle.  I scan the electric taps and pick an ale over a larger

Wendy:  John Smith’s please

Barboy:  that will be two pounds thirty.

I wander off to read my book,  drink my pint,  wonder if I’m geographically unplaceable.

Barboy:  Same again?

Wendy:  I’ll have an Abbots Ale (yummy, I don’t know why he didnt sell this to me first time around)

Barboy:  how did you find us?

Wendy:  I’ve just moved in nearby

Barboy:  where do you live?

Is my luck in?  What’s this all about?  Is knowing that Abbots Ale is the right beer to drink the key to conversational success?

Wendy: Number 13 (blah) road

Barboy:  I live at number 26,  welcome…  …don’t go into the (blah)

BLOODY BLASPHEMY a boy all of half my age just told me his home address,  smiled at me and is being downright friendly.  Gosh,  I remember that happening when I was in my 20’s and 30’s but not in my 40’s.  I think I need to calm down or have a reality check or something.

Wendy:  Oh yeah,  I looked through the windows, it looked rough

Barboy:  I worked there for 2 evenings,  it was EMBARRESSING

at this point I’ll censor the conversation.  Surfice to say it did continue and I do know a little more about my neighborhoood and will be going back to that pub… …which pressumably was the barboys intention…  Should I take flat-eric?  What do you think?

Wendy:  “is it 7 or 8pm here?”  (in the UK implied)

Lady In Pub (LIP): “that’s alright,  don’t worry,  I forget too,  it could be either”

LIP bobbed down at the knees while she said this ducking her head then throwing a swathe of thick black hair away from her face.   As if this action might clear her mind.  It was almost like a curtsey and made me feel like a princess.

Her polite engaging way left me smiling.  I thanked her for the advice and wondered whether she meant:

 - either time is ok

 - she, like me,  doesn’t know which time it is

I adjusted my local-time phone settings to 7pm, hoping to spin-out the pleasant evening.