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21-02-2024, 21:50
Visit the Paul Bailey's Beer Blog site (https://baileysbeerblog.blogspot.com/2024/02/mortlake-brentford-and-memories-of.html)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3YGdpy_0tx-DfvKpf-MpeuN407_Y6GrylRRmruimrH2xW7PMdygFDn6B9ROQzmfDLWEu ftpFOhJteniUBUglyb4hetAgVqW-aB5BTNBggLlK7Wsd5IEgp9ukAZm9lUqlBLb1eLvuEFOOwYopSk sGKsNBCB39gerwEoVz4kSKpGg3OQE8UHvNGQR-B-U/w400-h225/Mortlake%20brewery.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3YGdpy_0tx-DfvKpf-MpeuN407_Y6GrylRRmruimrH2xW7PMdygFDn6B9ROQzmfDLWEu ftpFOhJteniUBUglyb4hetAgVqW-aB5BTNBggLlK7Wsd5IEgp9ukAZm9lUqlBLb1eLvuEFOOwYopSk sGKsNBCB39gerwEoVz4kSKpGg3OQE8UHvNGQR-B-U/s4000/Mortlake%20brewery.jpg)
I’ve written elsewhere about the funeral I attended atMortlake Crematorium last Friday, and I had it in my mind that Mortlake representeda stretch of the River Thames in London that I hadn’t been to before. I’dvisited Kew, Richmond, Hammersmith, and Twickenham, but had no recollection ofMortlake - or so I thought. It wasn't until I’d walked the short distance from Mortlakestation towards the Thames, that I developed a distinct feeling of déjà vu. Heading offinitially, in the wrong direction after leaving the station didn’t help –shades of Macclesfield there, but without a street name or landmark toreference one’s position to, it’s an easy mistake to make. Anyway, uponreaching the large, and rather soulless looking buildings, overlooked by amassive concrete chimney, that I realised this was the now closed, Stag Brewery,that once belonged to CAMRA’s one-time arch enemy, Watney’s.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-vBdX0luiWOr-a7Fl7QMmPfTJpJwu54pe0-CMXH5chOI0WShieFM0m0uRZiiAP-nhwetMElsUCqSlrcqVYRGrbreN0kzyM0T15JnhhL7pqiQz3nIx dHAIjUkytL9nXy9bf40C93LOnrOypvx2BP_WzCd4EfyDTde1k4 H9_PhP5sh60YfAno5u_bsIxg/w400-h225/Thames%20rowers.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-vBdX0luiWOr-a7Fl7QMmPfTJpJwu54pe0-CMXH5chOI0WShieFM0m0uRZiiAP-nhwetMElsUCqSlrcqVYRGrbreN0kzyM0T15JnhhL7pqiQz3nIx dHAIjUkytL9nXy9bf40C93LOnrOypvx2BP_WzCd4EfyDTde1k4 H9_PhP5sh60YfAno5u_bsIxg/s4000/Thames%20rowers.jpg)
I’d visited the Stag Brewery back in the early 1980’s, on aworks outing, when it was still owned by Watney’s, and was brewing beer forWatney Mann & Truman. A strange place to visit, perhaps, for someone whowas passionate about cask beer, but not for someone interested in the scienceof brewing, as well as its history. Work colleagues, aware of my interest inbeer, had cajoled me into putting my name down for the tour, and when the allottedday arrived, I joined them on the coach that would take us to Mortlake and back.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfaQP4zA5suuiTR-mxI3khFEfz6Yw3S-Px_892LpQQHMf4KdEOLO_f69JVjSO37Z9U3owAQfOBK0y5XzsA lcEpg3qQdS32-W9nXj5kazcbDue1akJIjVhWI5uM6uwmMEizJ4hD3w5S330Ad8G ndf-LUGAftALC265X5fE_v8NIEuuCdIxUnHlZUGnAeF4/w274-h400/Jolly%20Gardeners.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfaQP4zA5suuiTR-mxI3khFEfz6Yw3S-Px_892LpQQHMf4KdEOLO_f69JVjSO37Z9U3owAQfOBK0y5XzsA lcEpg3qQdS32-W9nXj5kazcbDue1akJIjVhWI5uM6uwmMEizJ4hD3w5S330Ad8G ndf-LUGAftALC265X5fE_v8NIEuuCdIxUnHlZUGnAeF4/s3286/Jolly%20Gardeners.jpg)
I remember very little about the tour, and even less ofwhich beers I drank, (Holsten Pils, probably), but years later, and following the fall-out fromthe UK Government’s ill-conceived Beer Orders, Mortlake suffered the ignominious fateof becoming the main production centre for the brewing of American Budweis, inthe UK. Eventually, following further consolidation and mergers within thebrewing industry, Mortlake was earmarked for closure, and this was originally scheduledto take place in December 2010.Various stays ofexecution then followed, and the brewery continued producing Budweiser, untilthe end of 2015. After decommissioning, brewery owners Anheuser-Busch InBev,vacated the site a year later and it is now owned by a Singapore-baseddeveloper. This large site, overlooking the Thames, has been earmarked forregeneration as a new mixed-use neighbourhood of flats, shops, and offices. Someof the historic buildings will be conserved as part of the package, but in 2024there are no signs of any development work taking place.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpBWKpeJeqhTSrNErBVUiWCwC1InIyulJJD8PpqmPbPW YQcuhenbgtffnPSWPGN8Ex2i8Q6COOEYLLbHi4AdmvcV11DwaS XBf8SB4ZUWYvmwIPRppqiseD0o-OZKQt1ni11E9ZDJ9TEYEA6W9CD9MmJA6CGOKm37ELzSfEGv8FY HU4fNLJVc_X6UIGgAc/w400-h219/Ship%20Mort%20sign.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpBWKpeJeqhTSrNErBVUiWCwC1InIyulJJD8PpqmPbPW YQcuhenbgtffnPSWPGN8Ex2i8Q6COOEYLLbHi4AdmvcV11DwaS XBf8SB4ZUWYvmwIPRppqiseD0o-OZKQt1ni11E9ZDJ9TEYEA6W9CD9MmJA6CGOKm37ELzSfEGv8FY HU4fNLJVc_X6UIGgAc/s3834/Ship%20Mort%20sign.jpg)
I discovered this for myself, after giving up on the nearbyJolly Gardeners – a former Young’s pub, as a place for a lunchtime drink, plusa quick bite to eat, choosing instead to follow the narrow Ship Lane along tothe banks of the river. The lane divides the two unequal halves of the formerStag Brewery site, with the older, historic buildings to the right, and thenewer, more functional section to the left. Emerging onto the road runningalong the riverbank, I reached the Ship Inn (https://www.greeneking.co.uk/pubs/greater-london/ship) an attractive, 18thCentury, riverside pub with a double frontage, and a beergarden, overlooking the finishing line for the Oxford-Cambridge Boat Race.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6FlH1HwSeAkm1JzyBksQ5WOyPHDNTCzEm-LFW1BpIDlAOkYp3c_gxxoSE4dwPNflxp7gxWSK8g05tYMpLG4s qLEmOzBAOUHnZfZsf9Y5g95EE56eZXIeSSx5KEExaScSG36Ocl s5XwPtyIp-789vdhPUm4ZFR08RHfmuCgIbh5QhohZFixtGlJxK8_o/w400-h209/Ship%20Ext.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6FlH1HwSeAkm1JzyBksQ5WOyPHDNTCzEm-LFW1BpIDlAOkYp3c_gxxoSE4dwPNflxp7gxWSK8g05tYMpLG4s qLEmOzBAOUHnZfZsf9Y5g95EE56eZXIeSSx5KEExaScSG36Ocl s5XwPtyIp-789vdhPUm4ZFR08RHfmuCgIbh5QhohZFixtGlJxK8_o/s3854/Ship%20Ext.jpg)
I only discovered that fact from WhatPubbut enthused with a sense of keenness to experience a small part of theexcitement of this annual spectacle, I stepped inside the pub, having firstperused the lunchtime menu, displayed outside. A toasted sandwich would suit mefine, as would a quick half of beer – I had no desire to interrupt a solemnoccasion, like a funeral service, having to squeeze past mourners, whilst findingmy way to the Gents.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN-4s4uuHD_QXTzrkXnS7cWHC7JDAmRVH5eTZXUE96pxQaWp0wqAl G3f5XElk-s_k-o9HirZvO1aVaCfe2yhiJ_nqIo0R95OLLsR_PUxPeMNXjjPHB4p NmBdDS8Eh853w-C1GmjQbd2Gwi_u77PkEoUMImo-FgJbklS9ZeSnXWZa-RiKacJ60qM6Kf0ak/w400-h225/Ship%20pumps.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjN-4s4uuHD_QXTzrkXnS7cWHC7JDAmRVH5eTZXUE96pxQaWp0wqAl G3f5XElk-s_k-o9HirZvO1aVaCfe2yhiJ_nqIo0R95OLLsR_PUxPeMNXjjPHB4p NmBdDS8Eh853w-C1GmjQbd2Gwi_u77PkEoUMImo-FgJbklS9ZeSnXWZa-RiKacJ60qM6Kf0ak/s4000/Ship%20pumps.jpg)
The Ship had a spacious interior, whichwas virtually empty. A large, l-shaped bar counter occupied a large part of theleft-hand side of the bar, but he thing which struck me most, was the pub wasvirtually empty. It was certainly far emptier than one would expect for aFriday lunchtime, at a pub occupying a prime location, on the bank of theThames, just to the left of the graceful stone arches, that make up ChiswickBridge. The cask offering looked rather empty as well, with just a pump-clipfor Greene King IPA tempting discerning drinkers away from the numerous kegofferings available from the “T” bars., but as I soon discovered, that beer too was unavailable.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbpT9mCo632_KysdSUnqsPp69W9EqX8zdbclP4LH-BXKbLJyhqMezMms-HCevY-bt5YVk3MTudxAfrMKTBFCY-DaMibvixL34Lv20nSpP__S0L1C35RckW2kS_fPcDnBdKLy40Hg OdH9B44bpdd1nPdiVhRwQNQS12Q-YKY2e6GWzp0_4wKbZJsqwAY0/w400-h225/Toastie.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbpT9mCo632_KysdSUnqsPp69W9EqX8zdbclP4LH-BXKbLJyhqMezMms-HCevY-bt5YVk3MTudxAfrMKTBFCY-DaMibvixL34Lv20nSpP__S0L1C35RckW2kS_fPcDnBdKLy40Hg OdH9B44bpdd1nPdiVhRwQNQS12Q-YKY2e6GWzp0_4wKbZJsqwAY0/s4000/Toastie.jpg)
In the end, I settled for a half of BeavertownNeck Oil – an old standby, but just the right thing to go with my toastedcheese sandwich. There was no real need though, for the rocket and raw onion,and I’m still puzzling over the brown liquid in that small white dish - soy sauce,hoisin sauce? Perhaps dressing simple food up like this is what they teach atchef school, but it isn’t really wanted, and as my good lady wife would say, itjust contributes to food waste, whilst bumping up the price.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1I06vEuIT7gmFM561EhBBrahj-gOgmS77W5WEzZiLQUmvIdjeGoZycsor_lTOWN-fKFk1823ZtNAV3HfFMJTWoKA_9A0_sxSt_Juuq5_RYAigrRryw alqLv6a8guYwgdkOiRMukHtppvo56zLf2_DzF7UAFdnIyAQNUE A0_we44ZFGU3Zk1iXTHOOLh4/w400-h225/Ship%20Mort%20Int.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1I06vEuIT7gmFM561EhBBrahj-gOgmS77W5WEzZiLQUmvIdjeGoZycsor_lTOWN-fKFk1823ZtNAV3HfFMJTWoKA_9A0_sxSt_Juuq5_RYAigrRryw alqLv6a8guYwgdkOiRMukHtppvo56zLf2_DzF7UAFdnIyAQNUE A0_we44ZFGU3Zk1iXTHOOLh4/s4000/Ship%20Mort%20Int.jpg)
Sitting at a window table, at the frontof the pub, I pretty much had the place to myself, although there were severalgroups occupying the far rear of the bar. I wondered whether, like myself, theywere mourners, heading for the funeral. As I happened, they were, but if ithadn’t been for funeral attendees, the Ship would have been visually empty. I heardthe barman explaining to a couple of late arrivals, that the pub was due a changeof management, and that he was just looking after the place in the interim.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHgY7j6roHMUpcflXLZxfWoE1Vmrdp54eMAdiPSAzcm7 83ddqLi80dcmI4BGmxDBi54vUYbJA5blwIc6UOhbtEIn49QFE1 7rWnzKhpRqXX4rqwdPZYte6tGN79iPRxZ3eIb278jOrv38QvXI C0ToKbXQ_B451AbP0Om8cYeCGTkQH5MnjWuOkbOJF4dyY/w400-h225/Ship%20bar.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHgY7j6roHMUpcflXLZxfWoE1Vmrdp54eMAdiPSAzcm7 83ddqLi80dcmI4BGmxDBi54vUYbJA5blwIc6UOhbtEIn49QFE1 7rWnzKhpRqXX4rqwdPZYte6tGN79iPRxZ3eIb278jOrv38QvXI C0ToKbXQ_B451AbP0Om8cYeCGTkQH5MnjWuOkbOJF4dyY/s4000/Ship%20bar.jpg)
I imagine things would be different, comeBoat Race day, but for a mid- Friday afternoon, the Ship had all the atmosphereof a hospital waiting room. I returned my empty glass to the bar – my plate withits uneaten rocket untouched and made my way towards the crematorium. It was just a short walk away, along the riverbank, and under one of the arches, of the attractive Chiswick Bridge. I retraced my footsteps after the funeraland made my way back to Mortlake station. The post-funeral wake would be takingplace at the Griffin, (https://www.griffinbrentford.co.uk/) a lovely little, Fuller’s pub, in a quiet residentialarea, close to the site of the former Brentford FC football ground. Gettingthere by train was a bit of a balls ache, as the kids would say, as it involvedcatching a train to Barnes, one stop back towards Waterloo, and then changing platforms,for one that would take me to Brentford. With an approximate 15-minute wait ateach station, it was some time before I arrived at the Griffin.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2UhC-X-MUO2hEtVRgLmtor3wFLprM0EZVqjOQ8bjnA9IH7cjAR-w6X-Wo1lgEnJ5Kmhpeud1hNa2taXC9MSnmEB4UPHnxKJxI5Yp4_zfR tAO6mIeZnEv_6I0eXLFmVX52dKVOBZVt6Ln6FUnIvZYwfhDDGW xnBL9atPWOldpELIfdah8XD7jntL2ZQs/w400-h217/Griffin.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2UhC-X-MUO2hEtVRgLmtor3wFLprM0EZVqjOQ8bjnA9IH7cjAR-w6X-Wo1lgEnJ5Kmhpeud1hNa2taXC9MSnmEB4UPHnxKJxI5Yp4_zfR tAO6mIeZnEv_6I0eXLFmVX52dKVOBZVt6Ln6FUnIvZYwfhDDGW xnBL9atPWOldpELIfdah8XD7jntL2ZQs/s3476/Griffin.jpg)
Talking later, to a lady at the wake, I realised it wouldhave been quicker to have walked there, and I’m sure it would have been apleasant riverside walk between Chiswick and Kew Bridges – but not after dark! Steppinginside the Griffin I was left wondering if I was too late, and the wake had alreadyfinished. I needn’t have worried, asafter securing an excellent pint of London Pride at the bar – yes it wasdrinking well, I was directed along a short corridor to a room at the far rightof the pub.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFTgVcdtYUIcAtUtWUiT9MyXoow6nq6xtvAibdYDZTzg gbJQX_EshZkBLBbu3F68cof_JvYIhjpnWZpeKn9Y1Nlz2IbLf1 o9ErWotr27H_BS52rZOb86hYcCwFzfnAESnzXRo66_n5F0I1GZ 6xk2ODLF3WZ4F6TNYs8GocbsX43mlGQMut4o0Jh8T_CKk/w400-h225/Fullers%20pumps.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFTgVcdtYUIcAtUtWUiT9MyXoow6nq6xtvAibdYDZTzg gbJQX_EshZkBLBbu3F68cof_JvYIhjpnWZpeKn9Y1Nlz2IbLf1 o9ErWotr27H_BS52rZOb86hYcCwFzfnAESnzXRo66_n5F0I1GZ 6xk2ODLF3WZ4F6TNYs8GocbsX43mlGQMut4o0Jh8T_CKk/s3881/Fullers%20pumps.jpg)
It was standing room only in the function room, but therewas still a good spread of food laid out on a couple of tables, along the backwall. I had several interesting conversations with people who had been at thefuneral, and who obviously knew Bryan a lot better than I did, including a veryengaging gent from Copenhagen, who happened to run a brewery in the Danishcapital. I was also able to express my condolences in person to Bryan’s sisterJaqui, and his wife Helma. It was a fitting, and appropriate end to what had been a veryemotional day.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmYGQZa4_7X2Ku2Xc25DeBHWWRRFiEXV4mK4C-d7gABu9sRkCzpNZfAItrUb2vexXIcc52ys8AzhN0J-tN4hfcDipExyN6cLCWINQyPiwv1OkBE4wv5yV6Zc2kkraW54eF rm6G6gM3_mIxeHohuvZTjSAdE8vKGCbBb_em1HAkMs5bbOxoN8 MW8Bojsk/w400-h225/Mortlake%20map.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmYGQZa4_7X2Ku2Xc25DeBHWWRRFiEXV4mK4C-d7gABu9sRkCzpNZfAItrUb2vexXIcc52ys8AzhN0J-tN4hfcDipExyN6cLCWINQyPiwv1OkBE4wv5yV6Zc2kkraW54eF rm6G6gM3_mIxeHohuvZTjSAdE8vKGCbBb_em1HAkMs5bbOxoN8 MW8Bojsk/s4000/Mortlake%20map.jpg)
Before leaving, I nipped back along the corridor to the bar,and the main part of the pub. The place was heaving, and I couldn’t help thinkingwhat a smashing pub the Griffin is. It certainly has a Tardis-like interior,but in real life has a proper claim to fame, and one that I only discovered followingFriday’s visit. Until fairly recently, it was one of the four pubs surrounding GriffinPark, home of Brentford FC, which was known as the only stadium in the wholefootball league to have a pub on each corner. I later learned that the footballclub moved to a new ground close to Kew Bridge station, less than a mile awayfrom their old home. Upon leaving, and handing my empty glass back across thebar, I complemented a drinker sitting on a nearby stool, about how impressed Iwas with the Griffin. It’s certainly a brilliant pub, he said, and one that Itravel a long way to. In my naivety I asked him how far, oh, just across the roadwas his reply! What a lucky bugger, I thought, as I wished him goodnight!
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https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3YGdpy_0tx-DfvKpf-MpeuN407_Y6GrylRRmruimrH2xW7PMdygFDn6B9ROQzmfDLWEu ftpFOhJteniUBUglyb4hetAgVqW-aB5BTNBggLlK7Wsd5IEgp9ukAZm9lUqlBLb1eLvuEFOOwYopSk sGKsNBCB39gerwEoVz4kSKpGg3OQE8UHvNGQR-B-U/w400-h225/Mortlake%20brewery.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw3YGdpy_0tx-DfvKpf-MpeuN407_Y6GrylRRmruimrH2xW7PMdygFDn6B9ROQzmfDLWEu ftpFOhJteniUBUglyb4hetAgVqW-aB5BTNBggLlK7Wsd5IEgp9ukAZm9lUqlBLb1eLvuEFOOwYopSk sGKsNBCB39gerwEoVz4kSKpGg3OQE8UHvNGQR-B-U/s4000/Mortlake%20brewery.jpg)
I’ve written elsewhere about the funeral I attended atMortlake Crematorium last Friday, and I had it in my mind that Mortlake representeda stretch of the River Thames in London that I hadn’t been to before. I’dvisited Kew, Richmond, Hammersmith, and Twickenham, but had no recollection ofMortlake - or so I thought. It wasn't until I’d walked the short distance from Mortlakestation towards the Thames, that I developed a distinct feeling of déjà vu. Heading offinitially, in the wrong direction after leaving the station didn’t help –shades of Macclesfield there, but without a street name or landmark toreference one’s position to, it’s an easy mistake to make. Anyway, uponreaching the large, and rather soulless looking buildings, overlooked by amassive concrete chimney, that I realised this was the now closed, Stag Brewery,that once belonged to CAMRA’s one-time arch enemy, Watney’s.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-vBdX0luiWOr-a7Fl7QMmPfTJpJwu54pe0-CMXH5chOI0WShieFM0m0uRZiiAP-nhwetMElsUCqSlrcqVYRGrbreN0kzyM0T15JnhhL7pqiQz3nIx dHAIjUkytL9nXy9bf40C93LOnrOypvx2BP_WzCd4EfyDTde1k4 H9_PhP5sh60YfAno5u_bsIxg/w400-h225/Thames%20rowers.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEha-vBdX0luiWOr-a7Fl7QMmPfTJpJwu54pe0-CMXH5chOI0WShieFM0m0uRZiiAP-nhwetMElsUCqSlrcqVYRGrbreN0kzyM0T15JnhhL7pqiQz3nIx dHAIjUkytL9nXy9bf40C93LOnrOypvx2BP_WzCd4EfyDTde1k4 H9_PhP5sh60YfAno5u_bsIxg/s4000/Thames%20rowers.jpg)
I’d visited the Stag Brewery back in the early 1980’s, on aworks outing, when it was still owned by Watney’s, and was brewing beer forWatney Mann & Truman. A strange place to visit, perhaps, for someone whowas passionate about cask beer, but not for someone interested in the scienceof brewing, as well as its history. Work colleagues, aware of my interest inbeer, had cajoled me into putting my name down for the tour, and when the allottedday arrived, I joined them on the coach that would take us to Mortlake and back.
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I remember very little about the tour, and even less ofwhich beers I drank, (Holsten Pils, probably), but years later, and following the fall-out fromthe UK Government’s ill-conceived Beer Orders, Mortlake suffered the ignominious fateof becoming the main production centre for the brewing of American Budweis, inthe UK. Eventually, following further consolidation and mergers within thebrewing industry, Mortlake was earmarked for closure, and this was originally scheduledto take place in December 2010.Various stays ofexecution then followed, and the brewery continued producing Budweiser, untilthe end of 2015. After decommissioning, brewery owners Anheuser-Busch InBev,vacated the site a year later and it is now owned by a Singapore-baseddeveloper. This large site, overlooking the Thames, has been earmarked forregeneration as a new mixed-use neighbourhood of flats, shops, and offices. Someof the historic buildings will be conserved as part of the package, but in 2024there are no signs of any development work taking place.
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I discovered this for myself, after giving up on the nearbyJolly Gardeners – a former Young’s pub, as a place for a lunchtime drink, plusa quick bite to eat, choosing instead to follow the narrow Ship Lane along tothe banks of the river. The lane divides the two unequal halves of the formerStag Brewery site, with the older, historic buildings to the right, and thenewer, more functional section to the left. Emerging onto the road runningalong the riverbank, I reached the Ship Inn (https://www.greeneking.co.uk/pubs/greater-london/ship) an attractive, 18thCentury, riverside pub with a double frontage, and a beergarden, overlooking the finishing line for the Oxford-Cambridge Boat Race.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6FlH1HwSeAkm1JzyBksQ5WOyPHDNTCzEm-LFW1BpIDlAOkYp3c_gxxoSE4dwPNflxp7gxWSK8g05tYMpLG4s qLEmOzBAOUHnZfZsf9Y5g95EE56eZXIeSSx5KEExaScSG36Ocl s5XwPtyIp-789vdhPUm4ZFR08RHfmuCgIbh5QhohZFixtGlJxK8_o/w400-h209/Ship%20Ext.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu6FlH1HwSeAkm1JzyBksQ5WOyPHDNTCzEm-LFW1BpIDlAOkYp3c_gxxoSE4dwPNflxp7gxWSK8g05tYMpLG4s qLEmOzBAOUHnZfZsf9Y5g95EE56eZXIeSSx5KEExaScSG36Ocl s5XwPtyIp-789vdhPUm4ZFR08RHfmuCgIbh5QhohZFixtGlJxK8_o/s3854/Ship%20Ext.jpg)
I only discovered that fact from WhatPubbut enthused with a sense of keenness to experience a small part of theexcitement of this annual spectacle, I stepped inside the pub, having firstperused the lunchtime menu, displayed outside. A toasted sandwich would suit mefine, as would a quick half of beer – I had no desire to interrupt a solemnoccasion, like a funeral service, having to squeeze past mourners, whilst findingmy way to the Gents.
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The Ship had a spacious interior, whichwas virtually empty. A large, l-shaped bar counter occupied a large part of theleft-hand side of the bar, but he thing which struck me most, was the pub wasvirtually empty. It was certainly far emptier than one would expect for aFriday lunchtime, at a pub occupying a prime location, on the bank of theThames, just to the left of the graceful stone arches, that make up ChiswickBridge. The cask offering looked rather empty as well, with just a pump-clipfor Greene King IPA tempting discerning drinkers away from the numerous kegofferings available from the “T” bars., but as I soon discovered, that beer too was unavailable.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbpT9mCo632_KysdSUnqsPp69W9EqX8zdbclP4LH-BXKbLJyhqMezMms-HCevY-bt5YVk3MTudxAfrMKTBFCY-DaMibvixL34Lv20nSpP__S0L1C35RckW2kS_fPcDnBdKLy40Hg OdH9B44bpdd1nPdiVhRwQNQS12Q-YKY2e6GWzp0_4wKbZJsqwAY0/w400-h225/Toastie.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbpT9mCo632_KysdSUnqsPp69W9EqX8zdbclP4LH-BXKbLJyhqMezMms-HCevY-bt5YVk3MTudxAfrMKTBFCY-DaMibvixL34Lv20nSpP__S0L1C35RckW2kS_fPcDnBdKLy40Hg OdH9B44bpdd1nPdiVhRwQNQS12Q-YKY2e6GWzp0_4wKbZJsqwAY0/s4000/Toastie.jpg)
In the end, I settled for a half of BeavertownNeck Oil – an old standby, but just the right thing to go with my toastedcheese sandwich. There was no real need though, for the rocket and raw onion,and I’m still puzzling over the brown liquid in that small white dish - soy sauce,hoisin sauce? Perhaps dressing simple food up like this is what they teach atchef school, but it isn’t really wanted, and as my good lady wife would say, itjust contributes to food waste, whilst bumping up the price.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1I06vEuIT7gmFM561EhBBrahj-gOgmS77W5WEzZiLQUmvIdjeGoZycsor_lTOWN-fKFk1823ZtNAV3HfFMJTWoKA_9A0_sxSt_Juuq5_RYAigrRryw alqLv6a8guYwgdkOiRMukHtppvo56zLf2_DzF7UAFdnIyAQNUE A0_we44ZFGU3Zk1iXTHOOLh4/w400-h225/Ship%20Mort%20Int.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1I06vEuIT7gmFM561EhBBrahj-gOgmS77W5WEzZiLQUmvIdjeGoZycsor_lTOWN-fKFk1823ZtNAV3HfFMJTWoKA_9A0_sxSt_Juuq5_RYAigrRryw alqLv6a8guYwgdkOiRMukHtppvo56zLf2_DzF7UAFdnIyAQNUE A0_we44ZFGU3Zk1iXTHOOLh4/s4000/Ship%20Mort%20Int.jpg)
Sitting at a window table, at the frontof the pub, I pretty much had the place to myself, although there were severalgroups occupying the far rear of the bar. I wondered whether, like myself, theywere mourners, heading for the funeral. As I happened, they were, but if ithadn’t been for funeral attendees, the Ship would have been visually empty. I heardthe barman explaining to a couple of late arrivals, that the pub was due a changeof management, and that he was just looking after the place in the interim.
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I imagine things would be different, comeBoat Race day, but for a mid- Friday afternoon, the Ship had all the atmosphereof a hospital waiting room. I returned my empty glass to the bar – my plate withits uneaten rocket untouched and made my way towards the crematorium. It was just a short walk away, along the riverbank, and under one of the arches, of the attractive Chiswick Bridge. I retraced my footsteps after the funeraland made my way back to Mortlake station. The post-funeral wake would be takingplace at the Griffin, (https://www.griffinbrentford.co.uk/) a lovely little, Fuller’s pub, in a quiet residentialarea, close to the site of the former Brentford FC football ground. Gettingthere by train was a bit of a balls ache, as the kids would say, as it involvedcatching a train to Barnes, one stop back towards Waterloo, and then changing platforms,for one that would take me to Brentford. With an approximate 15-minute wait ateach station, it was some time before I arrived at the Griffin.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2UhC-X-MUO2hEtVRgLmtor3wFLprM0EZVqjOQ8bjnA9IH7cjAR-w6X-Wo1lgEnJ5Kmhpeud1hNa2taXC9MSnmEB4UPHnxKJxI5Yp4_zfR tAO6mIeZnEv_6I0eXLFmVX52dKVOBZVt6Ln6FUnIvZYwfhDDGW xnBL9atPWOldpELIfdah8XD7jntL2ZQs/w400-h217/Griffin.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE2UhC-X-MUO2hEtVRgLmtor3wFLprM0EZVqjOQ8bjnA9IH7cjAR-w6X-Wo1lgEnJ5Kmhpeud1hNa2taXC9MSnmEB4UPHnxKJxI5Yp4_zfR tAO6mIeZnEv_6I0eXLFmVX52dKVOBZVt6Ln6FUnIvZYwfhDDGW xnBL9atPWOldpELIfdah8XD7jntL2ZQs/s3476/Griffin.jpg)
Talking later, to a lady at the wake, I realised it wouldhave been quicker to have walked there, and I’m sure it would have been apleasant riverside walk between Chiswick and Kew Bridges – but not after dark! Steppinginside the Griffin I was left wondering if I was too late, and the wake had alreadyfinished. I needn’t have worried, asafter securing an excellent pint of London Pride at the bar – yes it wasdrinking well, I was directed along a short corridor to a room at the far rightof the pub.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFTgVcdtYUIcAtUtWUiT9MyXoow6nq6xtvAibdYDZTzg gbJQX_EshZkBLBbu3F68cof_JvYIhjpnWZpeKn9Y1Nlz2IbLf1 o9ErWotr27H_BS52rZOb86hYcCwFzfnAESnzXRo66_n5F0I1GZ 6xk2ODLF3WZ4F6TNYs8GocbsX43mlGQMut4o0Jh8T_CKk/w400-h225/Fullers%20pumps.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFTgVcdtYUIcAtUtWUiT9MyXoow6nq6xtvAibdYDZTzg gbJQX_EshZkBLBbu3F68cof_JvYIhjpnWZpeKn9Y1Nlz2IbLf1 o9ErWotr27H_BS52rZOb86hYcCwFzfnAESnzXRo66_n5F0I1GZ 6xk2ODLF3WZ4F6TNYs8GocbsX43mlGQMut4o0Jh8T_CKk/s3881/Fullers%20pumps.jpg)
It was standing room only in the function room, but therewas still a good spread of food laid out on a couple of tables, along the backwall. I had several interesting conversations with people who had been at thefuneral, and who obviously knew Bryan a lot better than I did, including a veryengaging gent from Copenhagen, who happened to run a brewery in the Danishcapital. I was also able to express my condolences in person to Bryan’s sisterJaqui, and his wife Helma. It was a fitting, and appropriate end to what had been a veryemotional day.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmYGQZa4_7X2Ku2Xc25DeBHWWRRFiEXV4mK4C-d7gABu9sRkCzpNZfAItrUb2vexXIcc52ys8AzhN0J-tN4hfcDipExyN6cLCWINQyPiwv1OkBE4wv5yV6Zc2kkraW54eF rm6G6gM3_mIxeHohuvZTjSAdE8vKGCbBb_em1HAkMs5bbOxoN8 MW8Bojsk/w400-h225/Mortlake%20map.jpg (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSmYGQZa4_7X2Ku2Xc25DeBHWWRRFiEXV4mK4C-d7gABu9sRkCzpNZfAItrUb2vexXIcc52ys8AzhN0J-tN4hfcDipExyN6cLCWINQyPiwv1OkBE4wv5yV6Zc2kkraW54eF rm6G6gM3_mIxeHohuvZTjSAdE8vKGCbBb_em1HAkMs5bbOxoN8 MW8Bojsk/s4000/Mortlake%20map.jpg)
Before leaving, I nipped back along the corridor to the bar,and the main part of the pub. The place was heaving, and I couldn’t help thinkingwhat a smashing pub the Griffin is. It certainly has a Tardis-like interior,but in real life has a proper claim to fame, and one that I only discovered followingFriday’s visit. Until fairly recently, it was one of the four pubs surrounding GriffinPark, home of Brentford FC, which was known as the only stadium in the wholefootball league to have a pub on each corner. I later learned that the footballclub moved to a new ground close to Kew Bridge station, less than a mile awayfrom their old home. Upon leaving, and handing my empty glass back across thebar, I complemented a drinker sitting on a nearby stool, about how impressed Iwas with the Griffin. It’s certainly a brilliant pub, he said, and one that Itravel a long way to. In my naivety I asked him how far, oh, just across the roadwas his reply! What a lucky bugger, I thought, as I wished him goodnight!
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