GRASSMARKET PARTS I-IV

For those of you who are not familiar with Edinburgh, it is perhaps worth explaining the nature of the Grassmarket. For decades it was a run down area in the centre of the Old Town, but recently has enjoyed a revival and is extremely popular with rugby crowds, stag parties and the like. Consequently, and despite the fact that it sports numerous pubs, it is not one of the greatest areas in town in which to drink.

The Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge guide to the Grassmarket will be split in two; it is anticipated that the next instalment will follow at some point during 2008.

The Black Bull (Grassmarket, 2) (not to be confused with its namesake on Calton Road) was our meeting point for the night. This is probably the largest of the Grassmarket pubs, yet space was at a premium as Rangers were being humped by Lyon on the night of our visit. Perhaps the only notable feature of our visit was that celebrity absentee Adam Johns had showed up, accompanied by his lady-friend Hollie. We decided it was best to go easy on Adam, and promised that no mention would be made of the fact that Hollie could drink her pints considerably more quickly. Erm…

Next door(ish) is The Beehive (Grassmarket, 2). Smaller than the Black Bull, it features a number of rooms and apparently a very nice beer garden out the back – sadly, early December wasn’t ideal to visit this. Pints of Guinness arrived with over an inch of head, and – despite the temptation to make numerous double entendres – this really wasn’t good enough. Get it sorted please.

The White Hart (Grassmarket, 2) is a more intimate affair, and probably my pick of those in the locality. It is notable for having been one of the few pubs in Edinburgh to have been non-smoking throughout even before the introduction of the smoking ban in March 2005. Our collective huddled round a table and were serenaded by a fantastic folk duo running through a set of standards. The tranquillity was short lived, unfortunately, being duly shattered by Phil Brough shouting “Ere, I want to hear Scarborough Fair, me” at regular intervals.

The Last Drop (Grassmarket, 2) was our final port of call for the night. Again it was wholly unspectacular in nature, and our stay was uneventful save for the slightly strange (and seemingly inexplicable) sight of Adam Johns running in and our like a yoyo. Readers familiar with Mr Johns may have their own suspicions as to the reasoning behind this, but The Management would like to point out that (for once), Adam was NOT being sick.

Until the next time….

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 46