Dave Wacey and I
had identified a core business need to exploit potential growth markets in
Walking via Osney
Mead, an area where there are probably several dead bodies hidden in ditches,
sensibly during daylight hours, we arrived at the Fishes in North Hinksey. This is a pub which has several nice corners, and
if there was a taxi to pick you up, could host you for an entire evening. Though you might get bored of the beer as it's only IPA.
Watch out for the barman that looks like Rod Stewart. It's also a bit foody but for some reason this does not detract from the
quality. Moving back to the main road and the Seacourt
Arms, we found Botley's only locals pub, and it looks
a bit like a London boozer. Marstons Pedigree and
Banks Bitter were the offerings which made a pleasing change, and they tasted good
and were fair value. Not alot else to say really,
well maybe that there is quite cheap food too. Not really worth making a
pilgrimage to though. Back over the ring road is the George, a strange pub with
a conservatory and some very plush seats. I can't see any reason to come here.
Indeed the only reason would be to watch the occasional live bands. However it
was a fair enough place to while away some time watching the latter stages of
the football scores, and consume a reasonable half of Greene King IPA.
Having nipped via Curry’s for some
blank CDs, I decided that the time had come for some more liquid reward, so we
swung into the Osney Arms for a half. This is quite a
strange pub, the front resembling a doss house, with linoleum floors and spartan furnishings, whilst the back bar accessible via a
small passageway is actually quite nice and cosy. A couple boring each other shitless with physics knowledge were
occupying one of the best seats in the house in the plush surroundings. The
whole place has a bygone feel, from the jukebox to the fixtures and fittings
and perhaps the sell by dates of the bar snacks. The beer, only Green King IPA,
was also past its prime and was sold by a miserable old
bloke. Nonetheless, it would be a pleasant place to go for a midweek drink if
you lived nearby. A notable feature is the excellent gent's complete with
mosaic tiling and four-man, yes, four-man sculpted
Victorian trough with individual pissing berths. It also has a hatch which used
to do off-license sales. Enough of that and time to go back
onto Osney Island and this time to the Waterman's
Arms. This place was deathly quiet, and we speculated that it had only
just opened, but empty pint pots told us otherwise. To break the drinking
monotony, we shied away from IPA and instead went for a very pleasant couple of
halves of Morland Original. The pub is quite quaint
and very traditional. There is a very small pool table which we had a game on
and there are even some sawn off cues for awkward shots. I can't really think
of anything else distinctive about this pub, but it is worth a visit.
Near the station is the White House, which
on our last visit was so shit that even the Guinness was off. This time it was
much better, and there were in total four beers on - London Pride, Abbot, 6X,
Hook Norton Best - and the Pride tasted very good. It's a bit pricey in there
but worth it. Interior-wise, it's quite foody and has
got a strange air of 80s yuppie bar to it, but if you can get them, there are a
couple of nice low chairs where people are supposed to sit while waiting for a
table. The main bar bit done with black cane chairs. Noteworthy also was that
there was some sort of jar of pickled/in oil bar snacks (artichoke perhaps)
though I'm not sure how often this gets ordered or how they deal with it. Oh
yes, and the gents have the decoration of a mid-80s teenage boy's bedroom.
Reluctantly we left, and hit upon another moderately decent boozer, the Kite, although by this time we were back in IPA and Abbot
territory. This again tasted very good (perhaps because we chose Abbot) as we
sat at the bar drinking it, and was well priced to boot. Another traditional
pub with a very large selection of dry bar snacks including sweets in a machine
on the wall. They keep their beer well, as I recall last time there was an
excellent half of Morrells. I've also been informed
that the odd after hours session happens.
Crap pubs beckoned now on Park End Street,
Thirst being our first port of call. This is a very minimalist cocktail bar
which is OK if you are in the mood for drinking cocktails. Sadly the place was
empty and we paid well above what we expected for a couple of bottles of Staropramen, and it goes without saying that there is no
real beer. The toilet is very disappointing for a place of this stature. Over
the road is the even worse Chicago Rock Cafe which for some reason charged some
bloke £3.95 for a pint of Guinness. Our halves of Tetley were £1.60
each (£2.95 a pint). There is really no reason to go in here, as there is
no beer either and its only other saving grace was a reasonable selection on
the video juke box. As we left before it all kicked off, it was starting to
fill with Ben Sherman shirted lager drinkers who would no doubt be pulling
rough slappers (some of them arriving too) and
spoiling for a fight later on. Or both.
Fortunately we soon found ourselves back
in the relatively pleasant surroundings of Rosie O'Grady's. For a start the pub
was actually quite welcoming. There was no beer, so it was Caffrey’s
instead. One of the bars has a selection of very nice old man's chairs, so we
made ourselves at home here, and whilst doing so entered a conversation with a
foreign couple extolling the virtues of this website and advising them not to
visit Chicagos. Next up, we had recently learned that
Finally we trudged to the last pub, Bar
Oz, which was not nearly as bad as we had expected, nay even moderately
pleasant when a group of ladies walked in. Scattered bits of Australiania litter this otherwise very average pub, and we
were so surprised that they had Bombardier on that we had in fact already
ordered some pissflow Tetleys,
and we might even consider going back on a quiet day. (Mind you Bombardier is more often than not vile.) Anyway a successful day and
far more achieved than expected. All that was required was to get some fish and
chips and fall asleep in front of the TV, which was also duly achieved with
minimum fuss.
Dan
Lovegrove
dan@doctor-lovegrove.com
Last updated 1st December 2003.