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...