Concentrating on the League

Thanks to what was apparently a dreadful performance by the Quakers, it was Droylsden and not us who were travelling to sunny Saltergate for the second round of the FA Cup.

And since nature abhors a Saturday without some sort of pub-related activity, I joined forces with Chris Turner - similarly bereft of a game after Rotherham lost their replay to Aldershot - and we meet up at Lou Farrow's pie and mash shop in Bermondsey.


(left) Pie shop


Unlike most traditional P&M shops, Farrow's also offers the usual cafe-style grub.

But we were here for the traditional stuff and since I was quite hungry I went for two pie and mash - the pies were very nice though the mash was rather lumpy. I'd also overestimated the filling power of the pies so I left some mash.

From Bermondsey we made our way to the Angel and took the short walk to the Red Lion. This was a new pub for me despite having worked near by for several few years - five handpumps even if they were some of the usual suspects.

I settled for a pint of Landlord and it is probably the best I've had in London - having that nice crisp, bitterness which is often lacking.

(right) Chris and the Red Lion interior

The pub was quite empty but they were gearing up for the rugby international later in the afternoon - we decided to move on and try the Charles Lamb.

This is another pub that I was aware of but had never tried and if I'd relied on the comments on http://www.beerintheevening.com/ we probably wouldn't have bothered - complaints of rude and snooty staff.

The pub was full of people eating rather than drinking but we managed to find some stools at the bar. There were three beers on tap - a regular Dark Star Hophead whilst the guests included Butcombe IPA and Blackawton Winter Fuel. Both the Hophead and IPA were in excellent condition and the staff friendly. We'll be back.


Next stop on the crawl was back down the Northern line to Borough Market and the New Forest cider stall where we met Liz, John and Bev. This stall became a regular Saturday afternoon haunt during the close-season but we'd not been for a while.

(left) Paul and some parsley - Liz on the cider champers

As usual we were served by Paul, a shy retiring type who delights in a bit of banter, and who we've previously met in Rose's, Woolwich.

The boys had pints of the vintage Kingston Black whilst the ladies had the champagne cider - lovely stuff!

We departed as the market was closing down and popped into the nearby Rake. I'm rather ambivalent to this bar - it's OK when quiet but too often it's full of loud, shouty types who like drinking straight from the bottle which - as my Mum will tell you - is just common. They also like to freeze the tits (a technical term) off some beers that don't need it.

On the pumps tonight were BrewDog Trashy Blonde and Hophead Porter - we all went for the Porter (except for Liz who was now on the tomato juice) and very fine it was too - tasty with that familiar coffee grounds feel their Expresso Stout has.

By now the hunger pangs had started and we wandered down the road to the Royal Oak - we thought it opened at 5:30pm on Saturdays but the place was almost full when we got there and just managed to get a table.

It was good to see they had Fullers London Porter on - unlike far too many Fullers pubs - and we all got stuck into that. The food was as hearty as they come, my steak and kidney suet pudding was just what was required on a cold day. And the new London Drinker was in stock too.

(White Man) In Hammersmith Odeon

Having just had a trip round the most prominent building in Hammersmith, I made a trip to probably the most famous building in Hammersmith later the same day - the Apollo - although I still think of it as the Odeon.

I can stare out of my window at this building too. I suppose I should actually do some work.

My first visit to the Odeon was back in 1984 after I'd first moved down to London - it was to see Jethro Tull on their Under Wraps tour and I've been a fairly frequent visitor ever since.

(left) Innes

The great, the good and the downright rubbish have played here over the years - more recently the venue went through a period of hosting stage shows such as High School Musical - but it now seems to be back on the circuit for many touring bands.


Those who know me will not be surprised to hear that the majority of my visits have been for Hawkwind who used to play there on virtually all of their tours back in the 80s and early 90s.

In those days Hammersmith was a bit of a scruffy place - a dirty old bus station on the site of where my office building now stands.

Tonight though Liz and I were going to see Primal Scream on the London leg of their NME Rock'n'Roll Riot tour.

Before the gig we went for a few beers - most of the pubs around Hammersmith were chock full of Scream fans and office workers so we went to one of our backstreet favourites, the Old Parr's Head, which is slightly off the beaten track. A decent pint of London Pride and some very tasty Thai food set us up nicely.

(right) Careful - you'll have someone's eye out with that!

For tonight's gig I was going to get a photo pass (thanks Martin!) to allow me into the photographers pit with the professionals. On arriving at the box office I was told to wait until 9pm when all the photographers would be escorted to the pit.

On our way to said pit we had to go around the outside of the building - almost bumping into a confused-looking Bez who was stood outside looking desperate to get in - and we had about a minute to spare before the band hit the stage and launched into Kill All Hippies.

And so it was a hectic 12 mins or so as I tried a variety of lenses to capture the lightshow and animated backdrop but it's bloody hard under these lighting conditions - well it is for an amateur like me - but great fun being right there at the front with no one in front of you.

Before long our time was up and we were being ushered out into the cold. One of the photographers was complaining that is was hard to get some decent shots in this particular lightshow - so it wasn't just me! The pros then all disappeared off into the night whereas I had a ticket and went back in and joined Liz in the throng downstairs.

The rest of the gig was storming - acclaimed by long time Screamers as being the very best for many years. It's awfully hard to disagree...

Ghost Ship of Hammersmith

Those of you who have driven over the Hammersmith flyover - or even looked up from the tube as you enter the tube station - are probably familiar with the peculiar looking building next to it.

(left) the Ark

This is the Ark - designed by Ralph Erskine who also designed the famous Byker Wall - and it's probably the most prominent feature of Hammersmith.

It looks like it was fated from the start - completed when the property market was in a slump and occupied briefly by Seagrams - in recent years the building has been empty - seemingly cast adrift between the Talgarth Road and the tube - and looking a bit sorry for itself with the lights switched off.

(right) the wide open spaces inside the Ark

I've spent most of the past ten years or so staring at it from my office window so it was great to have the opportunity to take a guided tour around the building and see what it is like inside.


On asking where we wanted to start the tour, the unanimous decision was to head to the Crow's Nest. From here you had some of the best views over west London - or we would have done had the weather not been so drab. Still very impressive.

The remainder of the building was very impressive too - there have been modifications to some floors as it looks like a sole occupier cannot be found and so occupancy on a floor by floor basis is being offered.

But the overall feeling of light and space suggested it would be a great place to work.

For anyone interested in technical details on the building, see the official site. The tour was arranged by HammersmithLondon.

Up Town Top Rankin

I was having some very weird dreams but they turned into a nightmare - Steve Duffy in his boxer shorts leaning over me - "wake up, wake up!!".

For a split second it was like one of those anxiety dreams - you're trying to get somewhere but the world is conspiring against your every move and you simply can't make it? Or is that just me?

This though was stark reality - I'd apparently slept though two sets of alarms and had just 20 mins to get to Cardiff station and catch the 5:55am train back to Paddington.

Thankfully Steve had woken up and was curious when he hadn't heard me lumbering around. As he lives about 10 mins from the station, I made the train with a couple of minutes to spare but I suspect it was an ungainly journey as I wasn't even in a fit state to tie my laces.

It's safe to say I was suffering a tad from the excesses of the night before and I did my best to get some kip on the train. Once back in London, I dropped into the office for a change of clothes and things slowly started to feel a bit better.

Next stop was Waterloo where I met up with John Wilson and a trip to Maries for a No 7 and chips - and a little further along the road to recovery.


We'd been disappointed to find that the Red Lion in Isleworth no longer opened at 11am and so the Magpie and Crown was going to be our first call of the day once.

(left) John admires the view and some gloves

On the way we took a leisurely stroll from Kew Bridge along the Thames Path, admiring the houseboats close to Brentford Ait - all very pretty.

The Magpie and Crown is run by Steve, a Hartlepool fan, and he always has some decent beers available. Today we had a choice of Itchen Valley's HMS Warrior, Slaters Owzat, Hogs Back HBB and Okells Mild (which later ran out and gave way to Goachers Mild).

I didn't make the best choice in starting with the 5%+ HMS Warrior which took me 45 mins to work through.


After that I downsized and tried the Slaters - much lighter at about 3.7%, quite tasty and certainly easier to handle.

I finished off the lunchtime session on the 6.3% Seidr O Sir Maes Edwy - no, not some dodgy Belgian brew but a very palatable Welsh cider. One of my five portions for the day.

By this time we had a healthy selection of DAFTS plus Geoff, our Plymouth chum, who was enjoying his side's televised victory over Cardiff. The Welsh theme just doesn't stop, does it?

Neil and Mari had come over from Norway for the game plus a bit of recreational pre-Xmas shopping. As usual Neil was doing his best to persuade Mari that she does like beer, she just has to try harder and she'd realise it. I'm afraid that the Frulli failed in it's task - however I suspect this is not the end of Neil's campaign and Mari will be turning her nose up at a lot more drinks in future.

Following a hushed "Good Luck" from the landlord, we wandered to Griffin Park where we'd been given the choice of standing downstairs or sitting above. We took the standing option of course - it was a nice change to be able to wander about and as a result there was a great atmosphere - we were not surprised to see Gloryhunter Spencer join the merry throng - our gain is clearly Droylsden's loss.

The first-half was fairly even but in the second half we seemed to pick up the pace. Hopes were raised when we got a free-kick and these were realised when the Burgerman put in one of his pinpoint balls, not to Alan White as so often in the past, but to Richie Foran who lost his man and headed in neatly.

Thereafter we were under a lot of pressure but the defence held firm and when the Bees did get through, their shooting was woeful. Foran had a good chance to make it safe late on but their keeper kept his effort out.

Unfortunately we couldn't hold out during added time - from the away end we weren't able to see exactly what happened but judging by the players reaction, it was some sort of error by Oakes.

Post-match analysis was held as usual at the Brewery Tap, a pleasant little Fullers pub tucked off the main road.

Unfortunately they didn't have the London Porter which has been very well received this year - instead we settled on the Seafarers Ale, a light ale which I remember drinking here more or less a year ago. Very worthy drinking since 5p from each pint goes towards a seafaring charity.

And then by the time it was time to wend our way home, I was feeling almost human again...

Rock'n'Roll Riot

It was an early finish to the working week and a midday train to Cardiff - I'd opted for the quiet coach but it seems that the nearby table of Kiwi gobshitesses didn't think that this meant them and their incessant tirade of nonsense. It turned out that they were going to Wales for the rugby - enough said.

Steve met me at the station and took me to our first point of call, The Vulcan. This pub stands alone by a car park and is destined to become one in the not too distant future. It's a lovely traditional boozer, no frills, and both the Bitter and the SA were on good form - Brains isn't one of my favourite brews but these were very enjoyable.


There is a petition to try and save the pub from the redevelopment frenzy that seems to be engulfing Cardiff but it struck me that the elderly landlord had the look of someone who was looking forward to his retirement and wasn't too keen on being saved.

From there we wandered to the Owain Glyndwr - it's real ale annexe was shut for the afternoon but they still had some handpumps in the main bar - all Welsh brews, Felinfoel and Cambrian were the ones we tried and they were decent enough without being outstanding.


Our final calling point was Zerodegrees - a relatively new addition to the Cardiff scene which is quite similar to it's older sibling in Blackheath - lots of chrome and very bright lighting. The beer was their usual fare - the Pale Ale and the Wheat beer were fine if not a bit on the freezing side.

Cath joined us and asked for a black lager - on ordering it I noticed the barmaid was pouring the stout instead. I said I'd ordered the black lager and she said that this was the black beer they had on that week. It didn't strike her that they'd be totally different brews - this lack of knowledge about their products is a bit disheartening - perhaps no one else moans.

We were joined by Steve's brother Martin plus Neil and his family and after a few more beers, we made along to the students union to see Primal Scream as part of the NME Rock'n'Roll Riot tour.

The reviews of previous gigs on this tour had been very encouraging and they were spot on - a cracking sound, maybe a bit louder than normal (which suited me fine), and the crowd loved it.

(right) Martin tickles the ivories

Afterwards we went to what could well have been Club Sponking (a haunt of Naked Video's Siadwell for those with long memories) for the aftershow party. Not much in the way of beer so it was G&T for me which is never a good idea. After a while Martin joined us and then a little later some of the other band members (Innes, Darrin and wee Barry) also appeared.

I thought they were looked a bit lonely on their own - no doubt really enjoying some quality alone time - so I decided to go along and have a chat. I think it was rather rambling and incoherent - not made any easier by a band playing in a corner.

Thankfully they were spared any further earache as we left and headed back to Steve's where the sofa awaited me...

Jonah No More?

For the first time in quite a while, Howard travelled up with us - he's aiming for one game per month this season as he doesn't watch to overextend himself.

He's not always a welcome sight to some DAFTS, especially those of us who remember Darlington's equaliser against Watford earlier in the season - scored as soon as Howard disappeared from sight after he'd assumed we were beyond hope. And now that we don't get Brummie Tony and Lance going to games, Howard is the prime candidate for a scapegoat when things go wrong.

This time his jinx factor was being pitched against that of the Manager of the Month award - the opposition being form-team Lincoln City and their manager PeterJackson.

Today Howard has beaten me to Da Vinci's - or Orlandos as we still like to call our breakfasterie of choice at King's Cross. I won't bore you with a photo of their artery clogger - I'll save that for another day but be assured it was similar to that from last week - I'm sure you've got the idea by now. Howard was rather more restrained - tea and toast - these cycling spandex wearers need to watch their figure!

The southern section of Kings Cross Crew - my rather crap moniker for our merry band which includes Chris Stockdale, now back in the bosom of his family back north - was complete when Martin arrived and we caught our usual service (8:30am) to Bank Top.

Arriving about ten minutes late, we made our way into town with the utmost haste - the Quaker Bar was open. Grocery store magnate Tony Waters was already ensconced when we arrived - he wasn't sure if he was going to the game but we knew he'd go in the end.

In due course, Gloryhunter Spencer Austin joined us - he'd been quite busy since we last met - not least undergoing a six-hour interview with former chairman George Reynolds - sounded like fun.

And he's finally allowed into the Arena but is not allowed to use his monopod to hold his camera as it could be used as a weapon (presumably not against the lame brains of our stadium management).

Whilst Spencer went to join the younger set at the stadium and help blow up balloons and Howard went for pies, Tony and I followed our usual routine and went to Number Twenty-2 - more beer, including the excellent Goose Eye Over and Stout, and then taxi to the ground.

I think we were all wondering just how good we'd find Lincoln to be given they'd been given the nod over us for the last month's performances - however any chance of an evenly matched contest looked to be out of the window after Foster received his marching orders.

Apparently it was for foul and abusive language rather than an actual foul- and presumably it was worse than the tackle made on him that went unpunished. As did the numerous fouls and elbows on Liam Hatch. It's not the first time we've had cause for complaint against Mr Matheson - I'm sure it'll not be the last.

A word in your ear, Fossie - leave the foul and abusive language to the professionals in block 11.

(right) Alternative MotM: Liam Hatch

At this stage I suggested to Howard that he do the honourable thing and leave - he declined to do so - he can be stubborn like that.

Dave Penney pulled off wee Franz to be replaced by Tim Ryan - this caused moans from a small minority but to many it was clear that Franz is only an international left-back as he appears to be the only Liechtensteiner that can play in that position.

Darlo managed to hold their own without much trouble for the remainder of the half - determined defending and some decent work from Brown in goal plus a general ineptitude from the Imps.

The second half saw Liam Hatch put us in the lead after being put clear by on-loan Foran- no more than we deserved. Hatch continued to plough the lone-man role up front and had almost collapsed in the ground by the time he was subbed.

The Quakers continued to look good value for their lead and we looked strong enough to hold on to our slender lead but it was all academic after Richie Foran slotted away the second right at the death.

A really great atmosphere - the best for quite a while, certainly in the relatively serene environs of Block 11 - long may it continue.

There were a few moaning Lincoln fans at the station - convinced Foran should have walked for stamping on one of their players. Quite frankly I don't care.

After arriving back at King's Cross, I had a few pints with my Wycombe chum Paul - both of our teams top so certainly worth a celebratory pint. But there's still a long, long way to go and both teams have been here before only to drop away. Time will tell...

Shot By Both Sides

FA Cup 1st round - the magic of the cup and an opportunity for ITV and Setanta to patronise the lower leagues - and plucky non-leaguers Drolsyden come to the Arena in their quest for glory.

Well not for me they don't. The problem with the cup draw being made just two weeks before the game itself is that there are no cheap rail tickets left. I'm daft but not that daft.

Thus I have the opportunity to relive my trip to Aldershot from earlier in the season and join the London Millers on their road to Wembley - or not.

A pre-emptive strike is made by a few of us at Waterloo - Liz and I bump into Toddy who has just flown in from Moldova (via Geneva). Once his luggage is left at the station, I drag them both to one of my favourite breakfasteries, Maries.

No need to check the menu - no 7 and chips for yours truly. Toddy is like a man possessed - the continent is not the place to live if you like the full monty. By God, he's missed this pleasure.

(left) No 7 and chips

As we get stuck in, Chris and Tim join us and soon the only sound you hear is that of arteries furring up.

Once fuelled, Chris and I take the early train to Aldershot whilst the Liz and co. wait for Jenny and some of the other LMs. We're keen to get to the White Lion as soon after opening time as possible and we drag along young Kirkland Minor who we bump into at the station.

The White Lion is probably the best pub in Aldershot but is about a 15 min walk from the station - and as it's pissing down, we're pretty sodden when we get there. Chris K and I stick to the Moondance, Chris T goes for the Pressed Rat and Warthog - going off we suspect - but the Moondance is as drinkable as ever.

We're joined by the others after a little while, full of the news that the Millers and the Quakers are to meet again soon, this time in the Johnstone Paint Pot Trophy Semi-Finals (North) - no doubt another night of fun awaits us at the DVS. I think I'll be washing my hair that night...

On arrival at the Recreation Ground, we face the long walk up the hill and through the trees to the away end - all very scenic but a ski-lift really would be handy for this.

I love this ground - especially the fact they have a nice terrace at the side under the trees - a shame it was raining but Chris T and I braved the wet for the first half at least.

The first half was similar to my last visit - the home side applying most of the pressure and some last gasp defending by the visitors.

Early in the second half, Darlo reject Micky Cummins put the Millers ahead.

And it looked as if it Rotherham might just hold out to win the tie but a late penalty - from a poorly executed tackle that didn't really need to be made - saw the Shots level right at the death. Deja Wycombe.

Sorrows were briefly drowned in the Crimea Inn, opposite the ground - a decent pint of Hobgoblin with Wadworths 6X also on tap - before the London contingent headed back to Waterloo.

One of the nearest pubs to Waterloo with relatively decent beer is the famous Hole In The Wall just outside the station. It has a fairly average choice of beers - Youngs Ordinary, Purity Gold and Hog's Back TEA were on the handpumps though the Purity wasn't actually on. Well, turn the f**king pump clip round then!!

On arrival the place is full of plastic Premiershite types watching the Liverpool -v- WBA game but these all piss off as soon as the game finishes. We grab a table before the place is overrun by England rugby (union) fans, and their obnoxious off-spring, singing their tedious drinking songs and generally being gits.

Thankfully Toddy's Cossack impersonation diverts our attention - and his entreaties of "Time for a last one, comrades?" means we chill out nicely before disappearing into the night...

Brass Monkeys in Steel City

Taking a leaf out of Dagenham & Redbridge's book, I travelled by first class to Sheffield where Brian and Trevor were patiently waiting for me. Unfortunately a staffing crisis at Olympic Ministores meant Tony wouldn't be joining us for an extended pre-match session. I bet Mr Tesco is always having this problem...

My trip today was going to involve a few firsts - and this started immediately as we board the Sheffield Supertram.

There has been some debate in recent years on introducing trams back to London - if they're as empty as the one we took then I'd be happy. Somehow I doubt they would be though. And no doubt there'd be chaos on the roads for years.

(left) Supertram leaving Shalesmoor

Our first calling point was the Wellington - just a hundred yards or so beyond Shalesmoor tram stop.

It's a cracking pub that reminds me of the Wenlock Arms in many respects - a great range of beers, some excellent scratchings, a lived-in feel plus a pub dog which will hoover up those scratching we dropped (though the landlord complains that he's the one who has to get up in the small hours when they make the dog sick).

Whilst Brian and Trev went for pints of Millstone's Baby Git, I decided to go for the 5% Keystone Hops from the Weatheroak Brewey. This turned out to be a full-flavoured hoppy beer, not a surprise, which belied it's strength and was very easy to drink.

Although we were well settled here, we headed over to Kelham Island and my first visit to the famous Fat Cat. This has now become the new base pub for the London Millers when attending home games and it is a nice little pub though currently surrounded by scaffolding.

What is to say about this place other than it has a great range of beers and what looks to be a very hearty menu. We just had more scratchings.

After another couple of pints, we walked round the corner to the Kelham Island Tavern - another famous pub.

Looking slightly more refurbished than the Fat Cat, we were faced with another impressive range of beers. And a barman who kept calling us "love" - very Dick Emery...

Conversation was slighly stifled when we noticed the sign asking patrons not to swear otherwise they'd have to leave the premises!

Don't they know that swearing is both big and clever?

Before we caught the tram towards the Don Valley stadium, we returned for a final pint at the Wellington.

The temperature had dropped dramatically and it was bloody freezing - Brian muttering that it was too cold to watch football and threatening to miss the game and go home instead.

As the tram drove through Sheffield, we were joined by young turk and former travelling companion, Chris Stockdale, who was late arriving.

Trev and Chris went onto the stop for the away end whilst Brian and I got off at Attercliffe in order to have a final pint at the Cocked Hat. The place was full of Darlo fans and our new chum, the Gloryhunter.

I tried to get some beers but they don't serve real ale on matchdays as it take too long - doesn't stop them pouring Guinness though does it? I take a perverse turn and order a G&T as the beer choice on keg was less than inspiring.

Spencer and I were having a good chat until we realised the game had been going for ten minutes and we'd better get in. I made the long walk to the away end - the DVS looking impressive from the outside but the view when I'd finally found a seat in the upper tier was a tad distant. Apparently it's a lot better from the home end which is scant consolation.

A fairly even first half with some early Rotherham pressure but not a lot of excitement to keep us warm. For the second half I moved to the lower tier to join Chris and Martin.

Darlo managed to restrict the Millers forward line whilst still creating chances of our own. We got a bit of a scrambled goal from Ravenhill and for the final third, we worked hard and restricted the Millers to just a few chances.

Given the freezing conditions, the final whistle was more than welcome and we rushed out of the ground to find where Martin had parked is car.

Not surprising I slept for most of the drive back to London and it didn't seem too long before Martin dropped us off in Hammersmith where I was able to thaw out in my office. Time to dig out the thermal long johns at this rate.

Glory, Glory

Despite having the usual big breakfast before our train left King's Cross, my first task on arriving into Darlo was to get the pies in.

Many years ago when we were at Feethams, no one really thought about taking your own pie to the game. They were there - with peas and chips too.

Sadly the pies at the Arena are pretty poor fare and have been for a while - generally heated through to a crisp so that the pastry crumbles into dust.

And in Darlington there's only one pie purveyor to consider - H Taylors and sons. So it's steak and kidney for Colin and me, mince pie for Martin and a corned beef slice to take back for my tea on Monday!

The town clock strikes 11am and so onto the Quaker Cafe for the first beer of the day. Landlord Steve is in his Sunderland shirt - eagerly awaiting the Tyne-Wear derby in a couple of hours time.

I opt for what is said to be the first carbon-neutral beer, East Green from Adnams, and it's not a bad drop.

At this point I'm joined by Spencer, the Gloryhunter, who I briefly met at Wycombe last week. He's spent his first week in Darlo so he probably deserves a drink.

Before too long, Colin Fletcher arrives and after a little prompting, outlines the finer points of Subbuteo to Spencer who is showing more interest than is good for him.

We move onto Number Twenty-2 where Paul Brown and Iain Swalwell are already ensonced. I also bump into my old chum Paul Walker.

Paul and I first met in the Brian Little era - I'd put an advert in Mission Impossible asking for lifts to games from London - Paul was my only reply.

Paul now lives in Scotland and so gets to fewer games - today he has a bunch of his Scottish mates in tow - they don't always bring us luck.

Station Taxis were their usual efficient selves and before long we're all at the Arena, Spencer wandering off to try and find where the club have left his ticket. It's easy to see that this glory hunting lark isn't as easy as it sounds.

(left) No gratuitous shot of floodlights so the town clock will have to do

The game was a bit of a mis-match - despite their elevated league position, Dagenham looked much as they did at the end of last season - almost without hope - and Darlo should really have beaten them by more goals than the final 3-0 scoreline.

As usual, the Dagenham & Redbridge party, directors as well, travelled to the game by train - however they're not looking quite as happy when we last saw them in May. This season it seems they're travelling first class. Not for much longer if their slide down the table continues.

After shifting some itinerant Jock students from our reserved seats, we were pestered by some Glasvegas fans from Dunfermline who wanted to share their Buckfast and their wit- all very stereotypical but true nonetheless. You'll not be surprised to hear we declined...

Atfer what seemed like hours, we're back at King's Cross and I'm off to the Doric Arch for a final few beers - the London Millers in the form of Liz, Jenny and Chris joining me later on. The pub has a full set of guest beers for a change - the Taylor's Landlord is on good form so maybe there's hope for this place yet.

Late Sickener

Wycombe is a really friendly club and were recognised as such when they awarded the accolade of being the League Two Family Club of the Year.

Denvil and his colleagues on reception epitomise this as they can't do enough as they escort me to the press room at the side of the tunnel so that I can sign in.

Declining a cuppa, I head straight out onto the pitch just a few minutes before kick off.

As I setup my gear I notice the Gloryhunter - resplendent in a brand new Darlo shirt - is coming along the touchline towards the away end. For some reason he eats a blade of grass - they're a bit odd these southerners.!

One of the nice things about Adams Park is that if the football is a bit ropey, I can watch the kites as they soar over the ground - a wonderful site for elderly ornithologists like me.

Today though the skies went unwatched as Darlo were on top form and were constantly taking the game to the Chairboys. Despite some smart play, it remained 0-0 at half-time.

During the break, I have a quick chat with the Gloryhunter who was unimpressed with the jobsworth stewards making a fuss when he dares to film in front of the away stand - get used to it, mate!

The second half sees Darlo continue to apply pressure - Wycombe looking nothing like a table-topping side - and we're rewarded after a sweet finish from Ginger Geezer, Jason Kennedy.

To add to the excitement, each side had a player sent off - Tim Ryan for us who really should know better. A Wycombe player also takes an early bath, apparently for hitting his own player. Now that IS stupid!

As the 90th minute approaches we look as if we'd keep Wycombe at bay but the announcement of six minutes of additional time gives the opposition hope. Hatch loses possession and carrot-top Harrold is felled by Foster as he looses his footing in the box - something Harrold is prone to do according to some Wycombe fans. No matter - the tackle was unfortunate and we pay the price.

After the game both sets of players warm down - the Darlo players look as if we've lost - I'm sure we'd have been happy with a point before the game but this was a true sickener.

(left) Obligatory shot of a floodlight - very autumnal

Once Paul has completed his photographic duties we head back to London and a pint in the Doric Arch. Onlywe don't as it's closed so we take refuge in the Euston Flyer.

The place is full of smug Arsenal fans (are there any other type?) and crap loud music.

As ever it's been an enjoyable day but it could have been so, so much better.

High-Ho to Wycombe

Breakfast was taken in the relative tranquil environs of Marylebone station - well, tranquil compared to Kings Cross anyway. Hidden away from the main Edgware Road, this small station is more more relaxed than the larger London termini.

I met my photographer chum and Wycombe fan, Paul, for breakfast at Gino's Coffee Bar just outside the station - quite a nice little place but I was rather dischuffed to find they'd forgotten my black pudding. Not a good start...

On arrival at High Wycombe, I head for the Belle Vue which has been our pub of choice for many seasons now.

Lance arrived just before the doors opened at noon - he said he wasn't coming today but he bought some tickets after he'd come back home all beered up!

The pub is handy for the station but is not on the right side of town for the football ground. Perhaps that's why it appeals to us.

A decent choice of four ales are on offer - Everards Equinox, Old Hooky from Hook Norton, Jennings Cocker Hoop and Wychcraft from the Wychwood Brewery.

Not as many DAFTS on parade today as were at Luton for our last game - John Bell has come over from Chester, Paul Brown has driven up from Guildford and Tony G is down for the weekend from Durham.

It's not long before we start to have a heated debate about why Lance can go without a fag in the pub for 90 mins but can't manage that at football. Given his jinx-type tendencies, I think it best if we just keep him in the pub.

As we leave Lance in the pub with his final pint before he returns to Brum, we trust to Paul's GPS to get us to Adams Park.

Oktoberfest @ Hoopers Bar

Yet another pub festival is on this weekend as down in darkest East Dulwich, Hoopers Bar are having an Oktoberfest which runs from Friday 17th to Sunday 19th October.

On offer will be draught Munich-brewed Paulaner Oktoberfestbier, served in authentic German Steins.

There'll also be a range of unusual bottled beers including examples of Trappist & Abbey ales from Westverltren and St Bernardus, Bavarian smoked beer, Czech and Polish examples of Pilsner and more.

And of course there is English real ale including the first offering ofthis season's Harvey's Old Ale.
There will also be two themed dishes, including bratwurst sausages, throughout the weekend in addition to the normal menu.

We'll be there on Sunday - see you at the bar.

Sad to say that I had a dose of the can't-be-arsed-to-go-to-South-London on Sunday morning and we never made it to Hoopers - no doubt the disappointment of the late equaliser at Wycombe.

7th Piglet

A reminder to London-types that there will be another Piglet festival - the 7th - at Leyton Orient Supporters Club on Thurs 16 and Fri 17 October.

Originally devised to fill a gap in the ELAC calendar when the Pig's Ear was without a venue for a couple of years, this festival is now an annual event.

There is always a fine array of about 30 beers (and the odd cider) from around the country on offer and the prices are extremely reasonable - unlike some of the pub festivals I've been to recently in west London - and the rolls are also great value.

On Friday the club will be presented with CAMRA's National Club of the Year Award - fully deserved - many congratulations to them.

Hats off to Blundell

It's a few years now since we were last at Kenilworth Road so on leaving the pub we followed the crowd - as we came towards Sainsburys I was getting worried that we'd end up doing a weekly shop but we soon got our bearings.

(left) Kenilworth Road cheek by jowl with local houses

We made our way down the alley to the Oak Road Stand where the away fans are housed - we'd expected a stiff admission price but £22!

And then £3 for a programme and £3 for a pie? Pity the poor home fans who have to pay these prices for every home game.

These are certainly the dearest admission prices I've come across this season - in stark contract to Dagenham which was £16 on the day (and £14 in advance)

It later transpired that there had been advance £20 tickets available from the ticket office at Darlo but due to minimal publicity very few people knew about them and only 32 were sold.

I love the fact that houses and gardens are tucked in right behind the away end - seems very quaint though I'm not sure the local residents feel that way.

If you're anything over five feet tall, then you'll find the away seating a tad tight. I'm not the tallest person in the world but there was no room to stretch my little legs.

However one of the advantages of the more traditional ground is proximity to the pitch - so much closer than my perch up in the south stand. It allowed John Wilson full rein to continue his abuse of Luton keeper, Conrad Logan, carrying on from where he left off after last season's game at Saltergate (and before that a prolonged tirade at Boston).

The game itself was quite a tight affair - both teams going for it - and it struck me that Luton were always keen to get the ball back into play and go for goal.

In the last 15 minutes of so, Darlo upped the pressure - a wonderful run from Rob Purdie saw his shot clip the bar and Hatch went close with a header.

And just as we seem destined for a draw, Kennedy pushed the ball to Blundell and the Scouser whipped it into the net.

There were still a few anxious moments but we rode our luck and although Luton didn't deserve to lose, I felt we deserved three points for the way we played.

There has been talk of a new 20,000 seater stadium close to the M1 for the Hatters but it seems that there is no firm plans in place. It may be lacking some TLC but Kenilworth Road has a great atmosphere and I for one would like to see the club remain in Luton and not end up like Oxford, stuck in the middle of nowhere.

Open Up!

We meet John at the St Pancras International station and boarded the 11:03 north - Steve was on-board too but we didn't meet him until we actually arrived at Luton.

(left) Tarmac your drive, missus?

In typical fashion, Lance had already been there since 10:30pm.

The Bricklayers' Arms is just a short walk from the station but unfortunately it doesn't open until noon - in common with far too many pubs these days in my humble opinion - and so we hung around looking kind of shifty until it did.

There was a decent choice of beer when we finally crossed the threshold - Everards Beacon and Tiger look to be the regular offerings plus three or four guest ales. We tried a pint of something from Westoe but it was a bit tired and past it's best. I moved onto the Mendip Mammoth which was a cracking session beer and kept me happy for the rest of the session.

The pub soon started to fill up - though I doubt it was for the MK Dons -v- Carlisle game on Sky.

Former Quaker Danny Graham put the Cumbrians ahead but it wasn't long before we were subjected to the gurning features of MK Dons chairman Pete Winkelman as the MK Dons won 3-1.

There is supposed to be another decent real-ale boozer not far from here, the English Rose, but we were so settled we decided to stay put until it was time for the game. Maybe next time - if there is a next time....

Off to Beds

It was nice to be back in the saddle again - last Saturday saw me miss the home game against Shrewsbury in order to see the mighty Killing Joke at the London Forum - not the best gig of theirs that I've seen but still well worth missing the game for.

Tony was coming south for this game so I meet up with him at King's Cross - and then about 15 mins later his Dad also arrived.

We took a stroll along towards Euston, heading in the direction of Eversholt Street and one of my favourite breakfasteries, the Double Six Cafe.

The cafe is very close to Transformation, a shop where the man who fancies the most severe of life-style changes can get himself some new breasts. I'd suggest the food at the Double Six would soon have the same affect...

I went for No 2 plus additional portions of black pudding and chips - a proper weekend blowout that really hit the spot.

Tony made the point that he'd never come across breakfasts with chips until he'd seen them in London. The same for me too but once you've been bitten by the breakfast chip bug, they're hard to resist when they're as crisp and golden as these little beauties.

Having about 40 mins to spare before catching our train to Befordshire, we had a quick shufti around the British Library - Ray was interested to see where his tax were being spent on we southerners! Very impressive it was too...

You Must Have Come In A Taxi

Yes, we did, thank you for asking!

Due to being one cab short for a few minutes - containing the one driver who knew the way - our convoy of taxis departed Plaistow slightly later than anticipated but it wasn't long before we were speeding east along the A13.

And the timing was more or less perfect - the whistle blew for kick off as we made our way through the turnstiles.

(left) London Millers

Rather than rush to the terrace like young novices, most of us went for a quick visit to the gents before hitting the burger bar.

Now the burgers at Dagenham are the best I've ever had at any football ground - and have been for quite a few seasons now - the chips were also well-cooked and a wonderful golden colour - not like the insipid undercooked fries sold elsewhere. It's about the best substitute for the much-missed fabled catering from Aggbrough that we're likely to get these days.

What can I say about the game? Well given that my team wasn't playing, it was OK and the teams were evenly matched - no doubt some of the London Millers will have their rose-tinted specs on and disagree but a draw was a fair result. I won't say anymore or I'll risk upsetting her indoors.

The game was enthralling...

The journey back towards central London via the replacement bus service was fairly painless - much less hassle than they normally are. We rejoined the District Line at Barking and a group of us decided we'd have post-match beers at one of my favourite pubs, the Palm Tree in Mile End.

The Palm Tree stands alone in a stretch of Mile End Park - the pub is all that remains of what was Haverfield Road.

The family-run pub is a delight - the main bar being quite dark and displaying photos of club turns from the past - you won't recognise many faces on display here.

(left) Palm Tree

There are usually two real ales on offer - always different - and on this visit it was the Mauldon's Mid Autumn Gold plus one other which I forget the name of.

Most of us stuck to the Mauldon's - very lively, taking several attempts to pour but it was exceptionally drinkable.

The hours slipped by and the place got busier and finally the Saturday night jazz band got under way with standards such as "Moon River" and "Fly Me To The Moon" - very trad. Close to 11pm we made the sensible decision to go home.

A visit to the Palm Tree offers the perfect opportunity to get some of the best fish and chips in London from the Brittania Fish bar on nearby Grove Road. And opposite the chippy is the Victoria pub which is run by former boxer Charlie Magri. The interior is all leather armchairs and boxing memorabilia - very interesting stuff but unfortunately for fussy buggers like me they only do keg beer.

Plaistow's Finest

After the pie and mash, Chris and I decide to walk the one stop to Plaistow rather than take the tube to the designated meeting pub.

Trying to find a decent beer in this part of London is a thankless task - a quick look at the Good Beer Guide is enough to suggest that large tracts of east London are beer deserts.

We're therefore lucky to have a pub like the Black Lion relatively close to hand. This is probably the first decent pub after travelling eastwards from Mile End.

You'll normally going to find 4 or 5 hand pumps on the go at any one time here - Courage Best appears to be a permanent fixture and there are normally various offerings from Adnams and Archers amongst the guest beers.

Nothing wrong with these but none are great favourites of mine so it was pleasing to see that they had JHB and Bishop's Farewell from the Oakham Brewery on tap. Both beers were on top form and after one pint of JHB, I settled into the Bishop's Farewell.

(left) Jenny, Mick and Rob soak up the sun

Chris and I igored the front bar - although virtually empty it's quite noisy, resembling the inside of bookies with the plethora of TV screens showing the racing - we settled into the quieter back bar instead.

As more London Millers joined us, there was a clamour to be out in the beer garden - all dangerously continental in my opinion but I was out-voted and so out we went into the sun.

At 2:30pm it was time to leave - Jenny had organised a fleet of taxis to take us to the ground to save us the hassle of the replacement bus service from Barking.

It's A Mash Up!

I'd decided to give our game at Dean Court a miss and have a day of minimal travel - I'd still get my weekly dose of football as I would be joining the London Millers for their match at Dagenham & Redbridge.

This meant my entire day would be restricted to a small section of the District line - and a replacement bus service. Lovely!

To start the day, I met Chris Turner at Upton Park tube and we went to Duncans, a local pie and mash shop close to the station. I've walked past this place for many years but this was to be my first visit.

We've been visiting other pie and mash shops but these have tended to be some of the well-known shops in Deptford High Street run by Manzes and Goddards.

There was a basic choice of food - pie, mash and eels (jellied and stewed) - and I stuck to the tried and tested combination of pie, mash and liquor.

There was no way I'm having eels - I've seen others try them and I'm afraid I've not got the stomach for them.

The pie was excellent - nice crust and a solid filling of mince - probably the best I've had in my relatively limited experience of pie and mash shops.

The liquor was also one of the best I've had - I'm not a big fan of parsley but this sauce was lovely.

For more details on pie and mash outlets in London, visit the Pie and Mash club.

Chocks Away

It must have been the mango lassi but I woke up surprisingly sprightly given the curry and the 12% imperial stout from the night before - I even managed to find room for a full english before being picked up by Mark on our way to Tees-side airport.

Mark had booked a Cessna for a couple of hours so we can have a tootle about. It was a beautiful morning - a little bit of mist but that was slowly burning off and we decided we'd wander down the coast.

(left) Captain Mark checks for condensation and (below) the Tees



We headed over towards Seaton Carew and then turned south - before too long it was time to flick Vs towards the simian folk of Victoria Park and we then fly over the mouth of the Tees (no, not Jeff Winter).


We continued south, flying over seaside towns that I used to visit many years ago - Sandsend, Saltburn and Whitby.

We head inland and fly over the moors towards Roseberry Topping - no doubt the couple of early-bird walkers on the summit were a bit concerned as we circled around.

And then back to terra-firma and the airclub canteen for a nice cup of tea - what a wonderful way to start a Saturday - much preferable to the vagaries of National Express.


Mark then dropped me at the Arts Centre where Colin was already busy bottling various dark beers into his Panda pop bottles. Only about 10 today.

Still plenty of decent beers left to try - those worthy of mention were Backyard's Nippin, the Black Porter from Captain Cook and the Caulker from Jarrow. And I had to have another half of the Tokyo Imperial stout before heading off to the football.

The first half of the game was quite uninspiring but we took the lead after some quick thinking from Clarke. I probably spent more time watching the stewards at the away end being overly officious with the small number of Stanley fans. A group of Girl Guides could have done a better job.

The second half was much improved with plenty of neat passing moves - all it took was one sweet lob from Clarke and a thundering header from Alan White to finally put the game to bed.

Friday Night Brews

Steve, Cath and I settled into Number Twenty-2 for some pre-festival beers - a couple of pints of Cooper Draon Challenger IPA just right for waking up my tastebuds. The pub was a mixture of post-lunchtime session festival folk plus the normal Friday night office crowd - a lot different from the more serene Saturday lunchtime crew that we're used to on match day.

We got to the Arts Centre at about 7pm and it was very quiet - the first thing I noticed was the new bar design - two bars instead of one - which looks to provide a larger serving area and worked well as the evening progressed.

I amble up for my opener - a half of Sundance get served by the brewer himself, Ian Jackson, who is now brewing at the Captain Cook brewery in Stokesley.

We join fellow Darlo fan Ron Stobart - last seen gurning at Aldershot - and his Dad at their table and peruse the beer list - plenty of new brews here so we're spoilt for choice.

As we're close to the Darlington Traditional Brewing Group bar and I'm being given the old come-hither from John, I amble over for a half of his Wild Child Mild - very flavorsome though a tad warm to really appreciate it at it's best.

John kindly gave me a bottle of it as well so I can try it at my leisure in the next week or so. I look forward to that.

I also try a half of Big John Anderson's elderflow ale - very floral and quite refreshing but the big fella suggests it's more of a beer suited to ladies...

A few more beers - nothing especially notable until the final beer of the evening - Brewdog's Tokyo Imperial Stout topping the scales at 12% - very dark, full flavoured and quite overpowering in many ways but quite drinkable if you're only having a half or two.

By now I was starving and we headed off to the Garden of India where we met various others including fellow fans Mark, Doug and Pete. The food here is OK but nothing to write home about - a bit too fancy for my simple tastes. The free mango lassi at the end was most enjoyable.

More notable than the food was was when one of our party - who shall remain nameless - got locked in the toilets and had to ring one of the diners for help. And this was before we'd even eaten - just how sad is that?

Rhythm 'n' Brews Beer Festival

A reminder that the coming weekend will see various DAFTS in town for the Rhythm 'n' Brews Beer Festival at the Arts Centre.

We'll be there for the Friday night session - hopefully we'll meet up with John who will have a mild on offer for tasting.

Be aware that unlike the Spring Thing festival, the Friday night session is not free - £5 entry with £1 off if you're a CAMRA type.

DAFTS will also be there for the Saturday lunchtime session where hopefully the musical entertainment won't spoil our enjoyment too much.

Weather permitting, it looks Steve and I will be taking to the skies with Meynell Air on Saturday morning so don't be surprised if we're a bit green when we get to the Arts Centre...

(above) Captain Meynell sets the controls....

Hoopers mini-fest

Liz and I spent a very pleasant afternoon at Hoopers bar sampling the back end of their mini-beer festival in the company of John and Bev.

There were three beers still left from the festival menu - Vale Gravitas from the delightfully named Brill in Bucks plus a couple of brews from the Otley Brewery - 01 and Ogarden. A fourth pump had Harvey's Armada.

(above) Hoopers - picture taken last year before new comfy furniture installed!

I plumped initially for the 01 - quite pleasant but nothing outstanding - I much preferred the taste of the Ogarden and remained on that for the rest of the afternoon. Meanwhile John and Bev were more adventurous and tried the lot. Liz of course didn't try any...

The bar was formerly a pub called the Ivanhoe - a Barclay Perkins house - and was apparently a bit of a dive but landlord Jamie and his partner have worked very hard to make this pub a really pleasant place to visit - although they advertised sport on the TV for the afternoon, they didn't put it on since no one appeared to want to see it. Which was nice.

We had the sunday roast - very tasty - a bit more veg would have been nice and for a Tyke like myself, the Yorkshire pudding was a bit titchy.

On our previous visits to Hoopers - mainly afternoons - the place has never been packed which is a shame as pubs like this deserve to be supported.