Monopoly Pub Crawl - London 2001

Old Kent Road

CJ turned up at my brother's flat around 8:30am as planned (the others were scheduled to meet us in Old Kent Road for breakfast at a venue not determined in advance) and, armed with mobile phones, the marked up A-to-Z and stout hearts we headed out into the cold. A bus turned up as if by magic (I took this to be a good omen until Dave reminded me it was the Friday rush hour and we were in London) and ferried us up to Highgate Station where the requisite zones 1234 travelcards were purchased by all. A short jaunt and we were at Elephant and Castle tube (right on the New Kent Road).

After a bit of a palaver with mobile phones and fuckwittery all round with the underpass system on the Elephant and Castle roundabout, we met up with The Ox who had planned with the same amount of contingency time. No way of contacting Wode though (he resolutely refuses to succumb to the evils of mobile phones ... although in true Wode fashion, he did let us know halfway through the day that he in fact had his girlfriend's mobile with him).

Now four strong, off we set down the New Kent Road, rejoicing as it morphed into the fabled Old Kent Road. We immeadiately passed a couple of really, really ropey looking dives (the sort of place you'd be scared to enter at 11am of a morning, let alone consider for an evening visit). Hungry we also passed a few really nasty, dingy greasy spoons ... the sort of place well-bred rats turn their noses up at. Worry started to set in about getting some food to line stomachs before the boozing began. We pressed on ... then, just past the Lord Nelson (our intended first port of call) we saw a clean looking cafe with an open plan kitchen and plumped for it ...

... and, the Rose Cafe did us proud.

No self respecting Monopoly pub crawl should consider any other first port of call. Four lardy fry ups ordered and a call from my in-laws to wish me Happy Birthday later and finally a call from Wode. From Paddington Station. We informed him of our whereabouts and suggested he get a taxi ... of course he ignored this and ran from Elephant and Castle tube station, turning up at 10:45, out of breath, annoyed and claiming he felt sick. Still at least he therefore didn't mind missing breakfast. 10:50 and The Ox (having already tried to get into the Lord Nelson at about 10:30 on the off-chance they'd let us slip a cheeky one in) marshalls us out to the first venue ...

We sparked up the kitty (a dodgy old plastic bag I had in my pocket for some reason) with £30 from Ox and a £15 from me and we were ready to go.

A lightning stroll two doors down and across a side road from the Rose Cafe lies the Lord Nelson.

And what a great start to the day, note that we were out of the pub before it was even legally allowed to open. Even funnier, when they let us in at five to eleven, there was an old guy sat there just about to crack into his second pint of the day. We got a few smiles for ordering five halves (which turned up in rather gay wine glass style form) then necking them, but I'm guessing the Lord Nelson regulars might see this reasonably often on a Friday morning !

The original plan at this point was to get a taxi to handle one of the longest inter-pub trips on the board. While we had sat stuffing our faces with bacon and eggs about a dozen black cabs had driven merrily by. Now, of course, there were none to be seen. So we set up back towards the Elephant and Castle, looking back over our shoulders on the off-chance that one came by. Eventually we decided to get a bus back to the tube station, and then get a cab there if one was immediately available, otherwise we'd use the underground, and in the end, that's how it turned out. A few stops up the Northern Line to Bank, navigation of many escalators and then up the District Line to Whitechapel. It was at this point that the idea of eschewing taxis for the rest of the day and doing the crawl with tubes and buses only was floated. The decision was deferred until Fenchurch Street ... but gathered strength as the day went on. Jogging down from Whitechapel to the pub, you pass one of those scrat markets where people are trying to sell you individual batteries for 35p and various fruits ... you've got to love the East End ... and arrive at the Blind Beggar.