THE WINTER OF DISCONTENT (PART III)

Fourteen months between updates? Tardiness, perhaps, but with almost double the number of establishments now visited (Oh great - I’m looking forward to writing them up. Ed.), you can’t accuse The Management of a lack of commitment to the cause.

A new year (albeit 2010 in this case) almost always means an excuse to take in some new pubs, and The Management’s mid-January session involved a Sunday-night visit around some on South Bridge and beyond. Proceedings commenced in Biblos (South Bridge/Chambers Street 3,5,7,8,14,29,30,31,33,35,37,47,48,49) and then moved on to Aspen (South Bridge 3,5,7,8,14,29,30,31,33,35,37,47,48,49).  Neither is worthy of much comment. On a similar note, Wm McEwan’s Ale House (Nicolson Street 3,5,7,8,14,29,30,31,33,37,47,48,49) was our next port of call.

Pool is a pub game which features almost as many rules of etiquette as it does in normal play. Or so it transpired when we moved on to The Maltings (St Leonards Street/Montague Street 2). With the score standing at 1-1, and the next goal the winner (so to speak), a toothless wonder shuffled towards us. “Winner stays on,” he declared, trying to pry Nick’s cue from his hands and shooting me an expectant look. “Those are the rules!” he cried, but his protests were futile. With the benefit of hindsight, it might have been better to entertain him – particularly given that Nick went on to claim both game and match.

For what it’s worth, The Maltings was something of an institution when I first moved to Edinburgh. Not only because it frequently turned up in Ian Rankin’s Rebus novels when the author needed something just slightly less predictable than his character’s 94th trip to the Oxford Bar, but also because of its famed 50p spirits and somewhat dubious claims that it promoted responsible drinking. These days the students are long gone, and even the name has changed. More on that in due course.

The toothless one was still whinging about pool table etiquette as we headed for the exit – and most likely still is now – and we decided to return to the Greenmantle (Nicolson Street 3,5,7,8,14,29,30,313,33,37,47,48,49), which had since its last review (and since I worked there) enjoyed a makeover which consisted of far more than the usual lick of paint. Gone were noteable local crusties such as “Tumour Face Man” and “Zombie”, nefarious-Edinburgh University cleaner-cum-Dalkeith Hell’s Angel (surely a contradiction in terms if ever there was one), replaced by a fridge full of eminently drinkable ales and a menu featuring bison burgers. Who said that pubs had become bourgeois?

The following Saturday, The Wynd returned to The Ark which was to shut shortly afterwards. Promises – empty ones at that – of an album appearing that year were made (although, as a spoiler, those of you waiting for the updates from 2013 will be delighted to know that it is now out) and the stage was invented by a clinical giant in a hi-vis vest.

After the gig, band, entourage, blaggers and hangers-on headed first for the Guildford Arms and then to The Chanter (Bread Street 2,35)¸where the pool etiquette was somewhat less contentious than it had been earlier in the month. The Wee Red Bar (Lauriston Place 23,27,35,45), Edinburgh College of Art’s student union, is renowned for its selection of alternative club nights. Aficionados of indie, reggae, classic pop or soul will rarely be disappointed. Even some of the blaggers and pissheads who stuck around after the gig seemed to enjoy themselves. The Management’s official version of events is that memories are hazy – barring a man wearing a husky jumper – but one question remains unanswered: just where did Nick disappear to?

 

We’ve no idea. Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 181

PUB GAME TALLY:
NICK: 3.5
ROD: 1.5
ADAM JOHNS: 0

Dogs, Guns and Snooker Cues

Just to appease those of you who have been thinking “why the hell haven’t they updated that blog for over nine months?”, those of you who have been thinking “I wonder if they’ve given up yet?”, and most particularly those of you who have been thinking “I couldn’t give a flying pig”, here is our latest collection of ramshackle drinking tales:

Back in the days when Itison used to dish out invites for free events rather than flog discounted visits to beauty salons, we were kindly invited to the Equity for Punks launch night at Bacaro (Hope Street Lane/Hope Street 1,3,4,10,11,12,13,15,16,19,22,24,25,26,30,31,33,34,36,37,41,44,47,48,100). Always grateful for a bit of hospitality, The Management attended this launch night and sunk free bottles of Punk IPA courtesy of Brewdog while they tried to convince us to invest in their beer-making business. We weren’t convinced then and we're not convinced now. After all, would you invest in someone from Fraserburgh?

A month later, in December 2009, we convened for a pre-Christmas pint or five. We started in Rileys Sports Bar (New Yorker) Edinburgh (Jock’s Lodge 4,5,15,26,44,45) but due to a lack of available pool tables, we shifted next door to Limelite (Jock’s Lodge 4,5,15,26,44,45). With a selection of classic indie tunes on in the background, we took our time getting through our bottles of Caley 80/-.

While Limelite is modern and bright inside, Jock’s Lodge (Jock’s Lodge 4,5,15,26,44,45) next door is quite the opposite, to the extent that dingy barely covers it. Now infamous for the shooting which took place 3 months after our visit (our alibis are sorted), our pints were downed beside a wood burning stove - a welcome treat in what was to become the coldest winter in years...until the one after. However, Limelite offered better clientele, atmosphere and beer and so we returned there to discuss how to get home from The Bluetones' King Tuts show the following Wednesday. We settled on the sensible option: taking the last bus.

Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 174

*Postscript: Only one member of The Management made it onto the bus. The other - who shall remain nameless - was last seen stumbling tearfully towards a taxi rank some time around 2.30am.

THE WINTER OF DISCONTENT (PART 1)

The Management’s next outing involved a trip to Dickens (Dalry Road, 2,3,4,25,33,44), famous for little other than allegedly being Kenny Richey’s watering hole of choice. The same evening, we visited The Tynecastle Arms (Gorgie Road, 1,3,25,33) before retiring to The Ardmillan Hotel for several nightcaps.

Shortly afterwards, we reconvened to see something really cool:



It was bone-chillingly cold on the day, and rather than re-visit the Marmion*, we headed into town to warm up. Lebowski’s (Morrison Street, 1/2/34/35), being the chosen venue. As those of you familiar with the film will have guessed, the place specialises in White Russians. I prefer a beer, and in any event I preferred it when it was cheap, nasty and known as The Festival Tavern.

A spectacularly drunken an ill-considered lock-in in Harry’s Bar (Randolph Place, 19/36/37/41/47), my place of work at the time, left The Management in need of a serious debrief the following day. The stories have been repeated many times, but for the purposes of this blog they shall remain untold so as to protect the innocent. Harry’s itself is renowned for its burgers, its rugby crowds and its grab-a-granny discos. ‘Nuff said. Debriefing started in The West Room (Queensferry Street, 19/36/37/47), a fairly swanky (and pricey to boot) place run by the folk who started Sygn, just round the corner. It tells you a lot about the night before when even your memories of 4pm are hazy, but i have a vague recollection of there being a horrendous mix-up which led to me being given 3 free bottles of Groslch. Nick, nursing his pint and the mental scars of the night before, didn’t seem to object.

Visits to The Vat and Fiddle (Lothian Road, 1/10/11/16/22/30/34/45) and Mr Modo’s (Lothian Road, 1/10/11/16/35/45) followed. Neither was spectacular. The moral of the story remains that you should never fall in love with a dancer.

Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 170

*Apart from the mid-morning medicinal dram we popped in for.

The Stock Brig/Leith Central Station

Our latest recap of drinking exploits starts in Stockbridge. Avoca (Dean Street, Deanhaugh Street, 24/29/42), one of Stockbridge’s better kept secrets, and mixes the area’s customary air of café culture with a refreshing lack of pretension. On this occasion, we were accompanied by an interesting bloke who seemed to spend most of the evening arguing with himself.

We half expected to find the same character in St Bernard’s Bar (Raeburn Place, 24/29/42) across the road, but much to our disappointment (or relief, you decide) he was nowhere to be seen. The St Bernard is something of an anomaly in Stockbridge in that it’s cramped, it’s downmarket and you probably won’t find anyone who works in marketing drinking there. Admittedly I’m reviewing this two years on, but I can remember little other than an intense discussion on the merits of dog racing. Why do they only use greyhounds? Why couldn’t you have a handicap race with a St. Bernard, for example (you can see how this train of thought developed) against a Chihuahua? A Labrador against a Dachshund? To spice things up even more, you could mix up the events and throw in relays (with a bone, of course), hurdling events and even a steeplechase. Needless to say, everyone bar me grew tired of that conversation and we soon left.

For our third and final stop of the evening, we were joined by everyone’s favourite man child: Adam Johns. The misadventures of this serial monogamist have been well-documented in this blog and other online journals, but on the night in question he was being kept in check by his girlfriend of the time, the lovely Rosie. (No, she’s not the one who shat the bed, before you ask). Anyway, I digress. We were in the Guildford Arms (West Register Street, everything under the sun), which is one of the city’s must-visit boozers. Day or night, whether you like ales, lagers, heavies, whisky or wine, there will be something on the drinks menu for you. Highly recommended.

Later that week, The Management convened on Leith Walk to pay a visit to The Balfour (7/10/12/14/16/22/25/49), which is no longer with us. It won’t be missed.

The night finished up in The Central Bar (7/10/12/14/16/22/25/49), which was enjoying a quiet spot of Sunday karaoke. When I say “quiet”, I mean in terms of numbers, as the sound system was loud enough to blow the roof off the building formerly known as Leith Central Station. Cuts chosen by the punters ranged from the sublime to the God-awful, but my abiding memory of the night is one tune. We leave you with a live take.



Until the next time..
CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 163

IN SEARCH OF FREEBIES

The Management make no apologies for the delay in updating your favourite Edinburgh drinking blog. Frankly, we’ve had better things to be doing.

Inspired by the previous year’s well-documented haul of free Fringe tickets, The Management were joined by Al Wallace on an evening in August 2009. Our expectation? More free tickets, of course.

Meeting at the Bar, Udderbelly (Teviot Place, 2,41,42), we were given no freebies so decided to move to one of the Fringe’s other big venues: The Underbelly (George IV Bridge/Cowgate/Victoria Street, 23,27,41,42,45). Once again, there wasn’t a freebie in sight. Having missed the Fringe’s preview nights, we grudgingly accepted the only way to see anything would be to dig deep in our pockets.

Off we went to The Stand 3 and 4 (York Place, 4,8,10,11,12,15,16,26,44,45) to see Alun Cochrane. If you haven’t heard of him not (or read about him in a previous blog) then your priority for next year’s Fringe is sorted.

A quick nightcap or 3 in The Basement (Broughton Street, 8) rounded out the evening. Apparently this place does good food, but we were more interested in loudly slating the government of the day. If any of Peter Mandelson’s relatives were in attendance, we stick by our comments.

The next day was Scotland’s World Cup qualifier away to Norway. We were humped by four goals, and the result all but sealed yet another disastrous qualifying campaign. Feeling massively downtrodden, we hit the Alhambra (Leith Walk, 7,10,12,14,16,22,25,49). Although one of Leith Walk’s less salubrious establishments, this Rat Pack-idolising place does a thriving trade whether it’s 10am or 10pm. Cracking jukebox too.

The following evening saw us out for the third night on the trot, this time to see The Bluetones bring the curtain down on a year-long tour of 1996’s Expecting to Fly. Convening in Shakespeares (Lothian Road, 1,10,11,15,16,24,34) we wasted no time in heading round to the HMV Picture House (Lothian Road, 1,10,11,15,16,24,34) for the evening’s merriment. The gig was bloody fantastic, with drummer Eds Chesters asking why we hadn’t updated the blog. We’re sorry Eds, but here’s your update – two years isn’t that long to wait, surely?

Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 158

PONTOON?

Do you ever have mornings at work where you look out the window, notice it’s sunny and all you can think about is sitting outside having a beer? Unsurprisingly, so do we. In early June, I had one such desire so Rod and I convened at Scott’s (Rose Street, 3,4,12,13,25,25,31,33,36,37,41,47,48,100) for a swift lunchtime pint. Unfortunately, Scott’s is one of the few Rose Street pubs (and one of the worst pubs on Rose Street – and that’s saying something - R.M) which can’t shake off its ‘old man’ image. In fact, it fails to generate an atmosphere even during the Festival. However, it does a reasonably decent pint of ale occasionally – Black Sheep on this occasion.

At the end of June, I’d been away for the weekend whilst my ex-flatmate, Grace, had been in town. Meeting on the Sunday in the Bank Hotel for a catch up, she and her pal were too knackered to stay beyond a couple of drinks. Lightweights. Having got a bit of a taste and a thirst, Rod and I said our goodbyes and headed off to the Royal Mile (High Street, 35) – a complete tourist trap which should be avoided at all costs! ££££!

Is it a barge or is it a pontoon? That was the question which was on everyone’s mind. Well, ok, maybe only a few of the eighteen or so of us that turned out for Rod’s big birthday bash pondered the question. The rest had far less interesting things to talk about while sitting outdoors at Teuchters Landing (Dock Place, 16,22,35,36).

Having quaffed a good few drinks, we headed towards the Cameo Bar (Commercial Street, 16,22,35,36) to continue the festivities. This involved several rounds of tequilas, following which Rod disappeared. He blames the tequila. Apparently it took him half an hour to open his front door. Impressive stuff. I, on the other hand, was greeted back to my close with a headbutt from a neighbour. I blame the tequila.

Until the next time....

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 151

MONTH OF MAY (2009)

The latest belated editions of the Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge see Nick take the helm:

By sheer coincidence, one of the few sunny afternoons in May (or, in fact, the whole summer) of 2009 happened to coincide with a trek up the Water of Leith Walkway from Slateford to Colinton Dell. Emerging from the woods into the sunshine we stumbled into The Spylaw Tavern (Dell Road/Bridge Road, 18,45). We opted to refresh ourselves with pints of Deuchars out in their spacious beer garden.

Around the corner and up the hill is the Colinton Inn (Bridge Road, 18,45); a pleasant enough wee boozer split over two levels and featuring a sun-trap beer garden out the back.

In our first blog back in 2007 we told you that the Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge had been conceived during a visit to an un-named pub - that pub was Hectors (Deanhaugh Street, 24, 29,42). A week after the trip to Colinton, we revisited this chic Stockbridge bar to rue the day we’d come up with such a daft idea.

Next door to Hectors is the equally classy but less forcedly trendy Stockbridge Tap (Raeburn Place, 24, 29, 42). With several ale taps, there is always a wide variety of beers available. On this occasion, the range included one of Brewdog’s experimental ales - How to Disappear Completely: although rather nice this was certainly not a session beer!

From a former Bert’s Bar to the original Bert’s Bar (William Street/Walker Street, 13,19,37,41,47), where we were joined by local celebrity Paul ‘PW’ McKay. A pub which is as famous for its pies as it is for its pints, we thoroughly recommend you pay a visit for a pie and a pint.

Our visit to Teuchters (William Street/Walker Street, 13,19,37,41,47) was not so much unplanned as un-coordinated; I was there with work colleagues on a night out when Rod arrived with other friends (apparently they do exist). Probably my favourite Edinburgh pub, this is a quaint wee place with a vibrant atmosphere and wide range of ales, lagers, malts, wines, liqueurs, gins, rums, and various other things which seem like a great idea at the time - such as the tequilas with which we celebrated last orders. For those who enjoy traditional Scottish fayre, the bistro A Room in the West End (located downstairs and affiliated to Teuchters) comes highly recommended.

May ended with a visit to the cinema in an attempt to take in something marginally more cultured: Armando Ianucci’s fantastic In the Loop:



The Cameo Bar (Home Street, 10,11,15,16,17,23,27,45), conveniently provides fully licensed facilities for the cinema. Happy days.

Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 147

Not so recent happenings - part three

I suppose it was inevitable that at some point during The Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge we would run into somebody, or some people, undertaking an equally, if not more, ridiculous challenge. Last April, just that happened: The presenters of the BBC’s hit series Top Gear embarked on a race from London to Edinburgh using different modes of transport – namely, the recently built steam engine, Tornado, a Jaguar XK120 and a Vincent Black Shadow Motorbike. Having received a tip-off about this top secret event (as had at least another 500 other people), The Management convened for a swift half at the finish line – the Balmoral (formerly North British) Hotel. With Hadrian’s Brasserie booked for a private function at the request of Messrs May and Clarkson (note: that short bloke with the silly hair didn’t make it), we headed to the Palm Court (Princes Street, 1,3,5,7,8,19,22,25,29,30,31,33,
34,37,47,48). Never one to miss a trick, I was quick to remind Nick that he was due to get the drinks in, and that he had made vague mumblings about buying champagne in the Balmoral. We were both in agreement as to the quality of the Bollinger, and the free peanuts weren’t bad either.



With all thoughts of champagne quaffing and train spotting quickly extinguished, we headed for the Royal Mile and to the comforts of the Jolly Judge (James Court/Lawnmarket, 24). Hidden on one of the many closes that lead off the Royal Mile, it has a rather quaint interior as well as some outdoor seating in a courtyard which attract the springtime sunshine.

Just up the road, Ensign Ewart (Lawnmarket, 24) lacked the luxury of outdoor drinking but was nice enough nonetheless. Claiming to have been in existence in one form or another since 1690, this pub has all the hallmarks (and clientele) of a tourist trap. The pints of Black Sheep were welcomed but necked quickly – it was time to get back out into the sun.

And so we arrived at the Castle Arms (Johnston Terrace, 24) for more outdoor drinking. A tavern popular both with young folk frequenting the nearby youth hostels, and also with those who stay a little closer to home, the Castle Arms boasts a lovely outdoor area on Victoria Terrace. This area offers fantastic views over Victoria Street and the end of the Grassmarket – an ideal location for a spot of people watching on a sunny afternoon.

A Kurdish restaurant is located next door – we only narrowly managed to avoid making further investigations into the extremely appetising aromas which eminated from it. Has anyone been? Is it worth visiting?

The following Tuesday, local musician Alex Cornish entertained the good citizens of Edinburgh with a collection of tunes and an attempt to flog some branded mugs and coasters. Incredibly, one daft, enthusiastic punter actually fell for his sales pitch and bought a mug. Make your own jokes. Here’s what Alex had to say about The Caves (Niddry South Street/South Bridge, 3,5,7,8,14,29,30,31,33,35,37,47,48):

“The venue we played last night [Tuesday] is a very cool place. Edinburgh has a load of cavernous underground cellar type venues, and this was one of the bigger ones. In fact, they also do “ghost tours” there, with people dressed up and making children cry etc. In fact, in our backstage room was a door, which was locked, which children walked passed on their ghost tour. We discovered that if you bang on the door as they walk by it causes a great deal of distress…”

Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 140

WEST SIDE STORY

Haymarket is one of the areas of Edinburgh in which The Management are closest to achieving their aim of drinking in every pub; by early April, only a handful remained to be ticked off the list. After an hour or so of light refreshment one Friday evening, the target was even nearer. The first of the remaining few to fall was The Spider’s Web (Morrison Street, 2/3/4/25/26/33/44/48/100), an early-opener which is a shrine to all things Beatles. Unfortunately it has a somewhat dubious clientele, but as an avid Beatles fan I’d prefer to concentrate on the former point. Here’s a completely gratuitous video of Rain:





Next up was Carter’s (Morrison Street, 2) which the eagle-eyed amongst you will recognise as the old Ossian, the third pub to be taken in on the Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge. Not too much has changed, but - carrying on this update’s tradition of themed pubs – pictures of Michael Caine adorn the walls as a tribute to his role in the film Get Carter with which you should be familiar. If you’re not, make a point of watching it PDQ.

That was all for the evening, but a couple of weeks later we reconvened for another session, at which point Nick informed me that he would like to write the review for that evening (“I would like to write the review for this evening,” he said) so, in (roughly) his own words:

Despite prior skirmishes, it is widely rumoured that our affinity for Edinburgh’s pubs began in September 2004 just as Rod landed in Edinburgh to begin his University career. Back then we found ourselves on a lengthy session which started with a trip to [Chinese restaurant] Taste Good on Slateford Road and ended up in The Tron, taking in no fewer than 5 boozing venues in the process. It therefore seemed only fitting that on the evening after Rod’s last University exam the Management could once again be found on Slateford Road.

As with most of the pubs in the surrounding area Grays Mill (Slateford Road, 4/34/35/44) is decked out in maroon, a colour only Hearts fans could ever love. Predictably, its clientele includes some colourful characters. At one point a couple sat next to us and admired their “purchases” from their day trip into town. We quaffed a couple of pints whilst we watched Chelsea grind out a goalless draw against Everton, but at full time we decided to move on.

It is said that the perfect nine dart finish is achieved by a player scoring 167 with each set of three darts in the following way: Triple 20 (60), Triple 19 (57) and Bullseye (50). If only someone had informed the Management of this fact, then perhaps a visit to the dartboard in The Shandon (Slateford Road, 4/34/35/44) may have been avoided. At one point, a single end resulted in the 3 darts becoming embedded in 1) the floor, 2) the seat below the dartboard and 3) the wall above the dartboard. In order to protect the innocent, the culprit will remain nameless. However, here’s a clue:





Hmm.

Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 135
PUB GAME TALLY:
NICK: 2.5
ROD: 0.5
ADAM JOHNS: 0

UTOPIA

Our next stop on the Pub Challenge – a stop which coincided with Nick’s birthday – was Utopia (Easter Road, 1/35) , a boozer with designs on being smart – they do good enough food and have a pretty wide range of beers - but don’t open on Hibs match days.

Utopia is probably most famous for being the origin of the Alistair Darling You’re Barred campaign, which was launched in 2008 as a response to the Chancellor’s increases on alcohol duty. The campaign saw a number of landlords nationwide indicate that Mr Darling MP would not be welcome to have a pint should he enter their premises. This campaign has the full backing of The Management, and can be found on facebook and other such sites.

We had originally intended to visit Utopia around the time at which this campaign was launched, but, as with most things in the Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge (particularly your updates – Nick) the schedule was somehow not adhered to.

Instead, our visit coincided with a performance by local group Aberfeldy, who were playing acoustically. Even the fact that the drummer turned up two songs late didn’t make too much of a difference. Set highlights included a cover of the Bee Gees’ Night Fever, and this little number:



Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 131

THE MAINS EVENT

For this latest edition of The Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge, let us rewind to a time in mid February, when I was near the end of a Saturday night shift at my work in the West End. Sometime just after midnight, a rather tired and emotional Nick turned up and insisted that we went for a pint after hours. So we did.

Unfortunately, the only place open after 1am is The Rat Pack (Shandwick Place, 3/4/12/25/26/33/44/48/100),an overpriced, overfilled piano bar populated by the kind of people who look like they go out twice a year (this is a fallacy – the same punters are in every week). If pre-programmed covers of Billy Joel, Queen or even Snow Patrol are your bag, then this is the place for you. If you have any taste, you’ll agree that it’s best avoided.

After a full 48 hours of recovery, The Management regrouped for a visit to Davidson’s Mains. Despite longstanding promises of being “Up for Davidson’s Mains, me”, Phil Brough decided he would rather go to the gym than join us. He no longer goes to the gym as Adam Johns took revenge with a silver Jaguar on Lothian Road*. Decent.

There are three pubs on Davidsons Mains Main Street (21/24/41): Ye Olde Inn, noteable for serving Tetley’s Cask Bitter – not something you see every day; The Norhet, home to a roaring fire and filled with a surprising amount of golfing paraphernalia; and Mackenzies, not really noteable for anything other than the juxtaposition of signs saying “Over 25s only” with a clientele who seemingly had an average age of 19 ½.

Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 130

*Adam Johns did not have anything to do with Phil Brough’s accident. The Management do not consider Brough’s injuries a matter for schadenfreude. Not in the slightest. GET WELL SOON PHIL.

THE GRAND OLD DUKE OF LEITH

Cooper’s (Easter Road, 1/35) was the first pub of 2009 for the Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge, and much like The Grey Horse which took the same role a year earlier, it’s a bit of a dive. Decidedly Spartan inside, Cooper’s boasts both a saloon and a lounge bar, but unfortunately the lounge never seems to be open. Our presence didn’t seem to disrupt the musings of the four regulars who were present so it’s obviously welcoming enough, but definitely not somewhere you’d go out of your way to visit. Having claimed to be on a hiatus from consumption of Belhaven Best, Nick was rather gutted to find that all other taps were off for line cleaning. It goes without saying that I had a big chuckle at his expense.

It was my turn to be disappointed at the lack of beer availability in the next pub, Persevere (Easter Road, 1/35) where a point of sale kit for Pilsner Urquell was being erected. Alas the said Pilsner had not yet been delivered, but this did not stop the bar staff from creasing themselves at the tasting notes in the promotion materials; most notably there was some confusion as to what a “caramelized sweet brownness” in the aftertaste actually meant. Come to think of it, there’s still some confusion now - answers on a postcard please.

Next stop for the evening was The Golf (Duke Street, 1/12/21/25/34/35/49), where it was karaoke night. I’ve stumbled across many a karaoke night in the past (but yet somehow I’ve never taken part in one), and never fail to be amazed by some of the dross which people seem to think will make good entertainment. However, the first performance in the Golf was nothing short of fantastic, definitely an inspired choice by the gentleman with the microphone. Ladies and Gentlemen, The Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge presents you Benny Hill:



We decided to watch the commotion (and, as the night progressed, shelter our ears) from the back of the pub where there was little more hubbub than a game of darts taking place in front of us.

The Duke’s Head (Duke Street, 1/12/21/25/34/35/49), is not for the faint hearted. The interior isn’t visible when you walk past the window, and the regulars seemed more intent on hurling expletive-laden abuse at each other than consuming any alcohol. There was an old bird who looked a bit like a pro too.

The Marksman (Duke Street, 1/12/21/35/34/35/49) wasn’t much of an improvement – there seemed to be some sort of over-55s disco going on and you could barely hear yourself think. This dive has obviously been around for quite a while but has a decidedly spritely,modern interior – a classic case of vinegar dressed as fine red wine, to mix an alcoholic metaphor (badly). Notable features included a beer fridge stocked with Carlsberg Special Brew by the can. ‘Nuff said.

Until the next time....
CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 126

AUTUMN ALMANAC

As a rule of thumb, one can find three types of pub once you pass the junction where Pilrig Street meets Leith Walk (7,10,12,14,16,22,25,49); The Hibs Pub, such as The Harp and Castle (formerly Jayne’s) where the décor is predominantly green and white and football seems to be the only topic of conversation; The Dive, such as The Dalmeny Bar, which isn’t really worth discussing in any amount of detail; and The Swedish Effort, such as Victoria, located between Dalmeny Street and Lorne Street and run by the same folk who have Joseph Pearce’s and Boda, both of which have been discussed in previous editions of this blog. Victoria (there’s no “the” prefix, name purists should note) has a greater (both in number and variety) range of beers but shares the same theme of cushions and candles without running the risk of being pink. Victoria also boasts semi-regular events such as fashion shows, gin tastings and celebrates national days with certain drinks offers. It has become a regular haunt of The Management, and is a fantastic place to spend an afternoon, an evening, or – if you can handle it – both. These three pubs marked the last appearance on the Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge (for now) of Ian Davidson, whom some of you may know more affectionately as The Wee Fat Bald Man, on account of the fact that he is vertically challenged, folically sparse and does not suffer from any eating disorders (with the notable exception of overindulgence). Ian has unfortunately moved to London since that post-Scotland match jolly up; the three pubs listed above being visited after a trip to Robbie’s to take in a particularly dull 0-0 draw with Northern Ireland.

The theme of regular participants leaving town was continued on our next trip out. Having made a guest appearance on drums for The Wynd , none other than Sick Boy himself, Adam Johns came out for one last time before fleeing to the relative wilderness of Devon. Unfortunately The Tron (Hunter Square/South Bridge, 3/5/7/8/14/29/30/31/33/35/37/47/X48/49) was the only challenge-eligible place visited. For those of you who don’t know, The Tron is a terrible pub unless you are under the age of 18. The following day’s hangover necessitated a visit to All Bar One (Festival Square/Lothian Road); a quieter (at the weekend at least) and less ornate version of its George Street counterpart.

Sticking in the area around the Lyceum Theatre and the Usher Hall, September also saw The Management pay visits to The Blue Blazer (Bread Street, 2) and Footlights (Bread Street, 2), accompanied by Chris McCall. The Blue Blazer is one of Edinburgh’s more famous pubs, being renowned for its sizeable collection of real ales, whiskies and rums. Small enough inside that it always gives the impression of being busy, the Blue Blazer is well worth a visit if you’re a drink connoisseur – they even serve their lager in chilled glasses! Footlights, across the road from the Blue Blazer, isn’t as classy an affair but it does also serve an extensive range of drinks. It is, however, one of the few places we have found thus far which shows live football at 3pm on a Saturday. Not strictly legal? Who cares...?

One of the main reasons that so few pubs were added to The Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge’s list of conquests in 2008 was that I ended up working in one of them, thereby ruling out my availability over the weekends. Despite the fact that 77% (roughly) of the clientele were absolute jakes, and that the place had nothing going for it, I did become strangely fond of my place of work – even if Nick had a frustrating habit of turning up just as I was finishing my shift insisting that we continued to drink there. It had been my intention to save the review for a time after I had found a Proper Job, but alas my plans were spoiled when the place went under in mid-November, leaving Mr Chadha to do the honours. After all, a barman can’t review his own work...

“It doesn’t count until I’ve finished working there”

The Greenmantle (Nicolson Street, 3/5/7/8/14/29/30/31/33/37/47/X48/49) was Rodney’s workplace for the autumn of 2008 and became a regular weekend haunt for me when I had nothing better to do.[That’ll be all the time then – Ed.] Of course, with Rodney on the wrong side of the bar, it wasn’t going to be easy to scratch this pub off the list. One dreich Saturday afternoon in early October, I turned up expecting my pint of Deuchars to be sat waiting for me (which, bizarrely enough, it was). Soon Rodney was finished his shift and on the right side of the bar with a pint of Spitfire in hand. Unbeknown to us at the time, this was to be the only pint we would have on the right side of the bar. [what about the two which followed? Ed.]

Despite its over-priced pints, lack of television, mainly dreary clientele (even duller chat than me!) and often appalling jukebox selection, this place still had a good bit of character to it. Unfortunately character was not enough to save it from the credit crunch, and it succumbed to the Grim Reaper in mid-November.

A further reason for the low number of pubs take in over the Autumn was that on that same October evening, The Management finally managed to pay a visit to The Brauhaus (Lauriston Place, 23/27/35/45), one of the few pubs in Edinburgh which seems to take its beer more seriously than we do. With a collection of some 250-plus bottled beers - most of which have the correct branded glasses to match – the place is an ideal way to talk yourself out of buying cheap flights and a fistful of Euros, which is probably for the best these days given the rather crap exchange rate. Countless tales of past trips to Germany were retold, and retold, and retold – and we have returned time and again, and shall continue to do so.

Soon enough, with the Greenmantle now shut and one half of the Management jobless, a night out was called for. Unfortunately, said night out was marred by a visit to Au Bar (Shandwick Place, 3/4/12/25/26/31/33/44/X48/100) and Oddfellows (don’t ask). Both pubs were of equal disappointment. As if to celebrate the new-found unemployment, the night out was extended for a further 24 hours – however, we only managed to fit in one new pub before retiring to the Brauhaus, such was the strength of its attraction. That is not to say that Greyfriars Bobby’s Bar (Candlemaker Row, 2) is a bad pub, however – given its touristy location and historic connections you would be forgiven for expecting it to be gimmicky and generally rubbish. Bobby’s, as it is known, is one of the quieter pubs in the Old Town, and not only does it do a cracking pub lunch but there is also the added attraction of a pint for £2 if you have a student card. There was a 3 piece jazz band on when we visited; if only we could have brought out the cigars...

So there you have it - if you want to experience jazz in the Old Town, go to Bobby’s. Do not go to The Jazz Bar (Chambers Street, 35). It is rubbish. We went after an Alex Cornish gig at the Bowery, as it was the only place nearby which was open until 3am, but boy was it awful. Entertainment was restricted to some jazz-fusion (my least favourite kind of jazz, fact fans) ensemble making a racket on a stage which was hidden in a corner. Nick booed. To think that we paid £6 for the privilege still brings back tears.
Until the next time...


CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 121

THE FESTIVAL EDITION

So, when The Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge finally returned to your computer screen after another hiatus of several months, what did you expect to find? Well it doesn’t really matter what your answer to that rather rhetorical question is, as here’s what you are getting – a guide to the venues we visited during the Edinburgh Festival in 2008. Of course, the fact that this update is being published in mid-January means that a) it is completely useless as any form of guide to people wishing to take in the shows we have reviewed (or more accurately, linked you to reviews of as we’re just too bloody lazy – or had spent too much time at the bar - to type a full critique ourselves), and b) it will probably have absolutely no relevance when the Festival rears its head come August. Still, the show must go on.

For those of you who do not know about it, the Edinburgh Festival is the world’s largest arts festival. Technically it is actually a collective term for a number of smaller festivals which take place around the city for a period of roughly four weeks, but for the purposes of this article we shall consider the Festival to be a single entity. What difference does it make to our lives? Traffic grinds to a halt (nothing new, the grumpier half of the city’s residents would complain), the city is filled to the brim and then some with tourists (giving rise to the same complaint), licensing hours are extended and a series of temporary bars pop up around the city. All things considered, it is a fantastic spectacle and is definitely worth a visit at least once.

This year, The Management’s first experience of the new temporary bars was at the Grolsch Pasture (Bristo Square, 2/23/27/35/41/42/45/67), an open air effort located in the centre of the city’s university district, and plonked down next to a rather unsightly purple inflatable cow – the E4 Udderbelly (cows...pastures...geddit?). This was, in my opinion, the best of the temporary festival bars in 2008 as there was always a lively atmosphere and even the fact that the various beers (Maclachlan’s Best Ale, the full Grolsch range and some other stuff which slips my mind) were served in plastic cups didn’t seem to spoil things. A useful tip for anyone visiting the festival is to hang out in this area during the first week of the Fringe – ticket sales are often fairly slow until the first reviews are published, so you have a good chance of picking up free tickets from passing PR bods.

That was exactly what happened to us, and we managed to score a couple of free passes to Dick Biscuit: Private Eye, a fairly banal affair at the best of times which was thoroughly ruined by the presence of a few JD’n’coke and [potentially defamatory accusations removed – Legal Ed] fuelled Camden luvvie types. We did manage to stop in at La Cantina (Teviot Place, 2/23/27/35/41/43/67), another temporary bar which pops up during the festival. Located inside the University of Edinburgh’s medical buildings, La Cantina makes a fairly half-arsed attempt at being a Mexican themed joint.

A quick curry – in and out (OF THE RESTAURANT, keep your toilet humour to yourselves please) in 25 minutes – followed and we set off to The Queen’s Hall (Clerk Street, 3/5/7/8/14/29/30/31/33/37/47/X48/49) to meet Chris McCall, sometime-hack and regular associate of The Management . Frustratingly , Chris’s review of Camille O’Sullivan, the Irish-French chanteuse, is no longer online – a link to The Scotsman’s review is provided for your perusal. The gig itself was fantastic, the venue providing a fantastic backdrop for O’Sullivan’s reworking of classics by Brel, Bowie and Waits, to name but a few.

By now it was approaching midnight, so we decided to pop round to The Auld Hoose (St. Leonard’s Street, 2) for a swift half* or three, and to make use of their well-stocked jukebox. The following playlist had just been selected:- The Violent Femmes – Blister in the Sun; The Cure – In Between Days; The White Stripes – Fell in Love with a Girl; The Velvet Underground – I’m Waiting for the Man; The Stooges – 1969; Radiohead – My Iron Lung; Lou Reed – Take a Walk on the Wild Side; Pixies – Here Comes Your Man; Bob Dylan – Shelter from the Storm; The White Stripes – The Hardest Button to Button -when the peace was shattered by a knock at the window behind our table. Somewhat bemused, we looked up to see a daft grin bearing down on us: after months of avoiding putting in an appearance (and, now I come to think of it, getting a round in), celebrity chunderer and all round good guy (except for the aforementioned lack of round discipline) Adam Johns had finally turned up! He managed to stay for a swift half before heading off into the night to do something else.

The Management’s second, and – it seems baffling now – final night out during the festival was a trip to see Northern comedian Alun Cochrane at the Assembly Rooms (George Street, 24/29/42), another of the fantastic old venues in Edinburgh’s city centre. These Rooms are not open as public bar all year round, but host various events on an irregular basis, and form one of the main venues during the festival. The reaction to the show was generally positive, and Cochrane got a bonus point from me for incorporating the Elbow song at the end.

After a quick trip to All Bar One (Phil Brough managed not to drop his pint this time round), we headed down to the Queen’s Arms (Frederick Street, 24/29/42) for a nightcap – and more specifically to sample Marching Orders the Caledonian Brewery’s festival beer of 2008. Very drinkable it was as well.

UNTIL THE NEXT TIME
Cumulative pub count: 109

*Note: “Swift half” does not mean drinking a half pint, except in the case of Adam Johns.

From Untitled Album

An Update from our Resident Statistician - the Second Fifty

51. Standing Order (J.D. Wetherspoons), George Street
52. The Grey Horse, Dalkeith Road
53. The Marmion, Captain’s Road
54. The Southsider, West Richmond Street
55. Native State, Potterow
56. Assembly, Lothian Street
57. Henry’s Cellar Bar, Morrison Street
58. Festival Tavern, Morrison Street
59. Conan Doyle, York Place
60. The Stag’s Head, Broughton Road
61. MaClachlan’s, Canonmills
62. Smithey’s, Eyre Place
63. The Orchard, Howard Place
64. Barony, Broughton Street
65. Mathers, Broughton Street
66. Doctors, Teviot Place
67. Oddfellows, Forrest Road
68. 99 Hanover Street, Hanover Street
69. Whistle Binkies, South Bridge
70. The Plough Inn, Portobello High Street
71. The Galleon, Portobello High Street
72. Foresters Arms, Portobello High Street
73. The Volunteer Arms, Leith Walk
74. The Balmoral, Dalry Road
75. Robertson’s Bar, Gorgie Road
76. Joseph Pearce’s, Elm Row
77. Elm Bar, Elm Row
78. Brunswick Bar, Leith Walk
79. The Hopetoun Bar, MacDonald Road
80. Slug and Lettuce, Leith Street
81. Deacon Brodie’s, Bank Street
82. The Strathmore Bar, Iona Street
83. Tamson’s Bar, Easter Road
84. The Black Bull, Leith Street
85. The Newsroom, Leith Street
86. Waterloo Buffet, Waterloo Place
87. Ark, Waterloo Place
88. The Living Room, George Street
89. The Peartree, Chapel Street
90. 56 North, Chapel Street
91. The Meadow Bar (The Moo), Buccleuch Street
92. The Dagda, Buccleuch Street
93. Drouthy Neebors, Causewayside
94. The Junction , West Preston Street
95. The Hebrides, Market Street
96. The Doric, Market Street
97. Grand Cru, Hanover Street
98. Hudson’s Bar, Hope Street
99. Agenda, St John’s Road
100. The Centurion, St John’s Road

TON UP IN CORSTORPHINE

As summer 2008 slowly appeared (and promptly disappeared far more quickly), we decided to set an evening to finish off our first hundred pubs. Corstorphine was the location chosen for this task.

Agenda (St. John's Road, 12/26/31/X48/100) is a trendy cafe-bar/restaurant which could easily be mistaken for the foyer of an hotel or – in some areas – the reception of a large office complex. Anyway, they had some good deals on bottled lagers as part of a Euro 2008 promotion. Our stay was brief, and our departure coincided with half-time in the ongoing game.

The Centurion (St John'sRoad, 12/26/31/X48/100) was chosen as our 100th pub for obvious reasons. We took up our positions in the lounge bar, joined by Neil McDonald and Grog Bingham, who seemed to have forgotten his gripes regarding the constant mis-spellings of his surname. A pleasant enough if forgettable joint, we stayed to watch Sweden round off their victory over Greece, Zlatan Ibrahimovic scoring a cracking goal in the process.

The Toby Carvery and Pub (St John's Road, 12/26/31/X48/100): You don't honestly expect me to write a full appraisal of every Toby Carvery or Brewer's Fayre we pass do you? What? You do? Tough.

The Corstorphine Inn (Corstorphine High Street, 1) provided our last point of call for the evening. Maybe my memory is playing up, or perhaps it was just the late hour, but the place seemed unnecesarily cavernous, which left it completely devoid of atmosphere. Redeeming features came in the shape of a good selection of real ales and an hour or so whiled away at the quiz machine.

After just over a month's break from participating in the Pub Challenge, The Management reconvened in mid-July to set out a game plan for the rest of the summer. Whigham's Wine Cellars (Hope Street, 1/3/4/10/11/12/13/15/16/17/19/22/24/25/26/30/31/33/34/36/37/41/44/X48/100) was the chosen meeting place, based on Nick's recommendation. Apparently this place is incredibly lively after office hours (and I can see why), but by the time we arrived at 10-ish only a few stragglers remained. Thankfully there was a rather attractive barmaid on shift, who successfully managed to distract me from listening to anything which Nick was trying to tell me about bus routes, statistics, or why Adam Johns should come out drinking more regularly.

Until the next time, when we shall have the benefit of the Fringe Festival and extended opening hours....

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 103

NOT-SO-RECENT HAPPENINGS PART TWO

Here at The Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge, we don't usually go out with the intention of getting drunk. Sometimes it just happens as a side effect of drinking so much, but contained within this latest report is at least one occasion on which a conscious decision was made to go hell for leather.

The Peartree (Chapel Street, 41/42) is one of the best known pubs in Edinburgh, simply for the fact that it sports a large beer garden. Sadly, the place seems to have capitalised on this by raising its prices to near-farcical rates, and seems to have forgotten the fact that it's actually pretty rubbish once you get inside. OK, it's nice to have a pint outside in the sun, and it can get fairly packed around exam time or during the festival – but the Peartree seems to thrive by serving people who don't know anywhere better to go. Don't fall into this trap, please.

56 North (West Crosscauseway, 41/42) was formerly known as The Human Be-in. Thankfully they ditched the horrendous name but what does the new one actually mean? 56 miles north? Of where? 56 degrees north? 56 North seems to be more focussed on the food side of things these days – and admittedly the menu did look fairly mouthwatering – but we managed to buy the most expensive round of the Pub Challenge to date, ringing in at a little over £8 for two drinks. Ouch.

The Meadow Bar (Buccleuch Street, 41/42) is affectionately known as The Moo Bar. Nick, who had been previously unaware of this fact, was delighted to discover this as he maintains a strange – but mostly healthy – interest in bovine creatures, and can often be heard performing impressions of such animals at inappropriate moments.* The Moo had been done up since last time I was in, but maintains its intimate atmosphere. Very much student-orientated, The Moo is the kind of place you'd always be happy to meet someone for a couple of drinks, but you'd never go out of your way to drink there.

The Dagda (Buccleuch Street, 41/42): now we're talking. A tiny little joint with about 4 or 5 tables and a central bar, The Dagda is equally devoted to good ales, strong Belgian beers and malt whiskies. As a partisan supporter of each of these causes I must applaud the landlord for his efforts, and also for his gargantuan sideburns. We were joined in the Dagda by Gillian Campbell, celebrity midget and not-quite-by-that-point-other-half of Phil “Gob” B. A notorious Bad Influence, Gillian's presence would have disasterous consequences as the day wore on...

Droothy Neebors (Causewayside, 42) is located in Sciennes, a sleepy part of Edinburgh between the student meccas of Marchmont and the Southside. Droothy's therefore attracts a slightly different crowd from many of the watering holes in this area, as students are joined by everyone from down-and-outs to young professionals. The pub itself is a Belhaven franchise, and offers a range of beers wide enough for you to shake a stick at. Lager fans will be pleased to note the availability of Furstenburg, Heineken, and,er, something else (Budvar?) on draft in addition to the usual piss.

The Junction (West Preston Street, diverted 14): Nick - being the eagle-eyed creature he is – had spotted a bus traversing the unusual territory of West Preston Street, and jumped at the chance for us for us to add another pub to the Challenge. After a brief pause for some debauchery (pictured below), we made our way into The Junction for a swift couple. The Junction is incredibly spartan inside – and not in a 1970s-formica-and-linoleum way. Ownership has changed about four times over the same number of years, and the place has alternated between being a cheap, slightly rough around the edges boozer and an absolute jake hole. Thankfully it is currently going through one of the former phases. From here we headed to a party somewhere in Boroughmuirhead, the rest of the evening becoming a blurry mess...



The Hebrides (Market Street, 36): Each May a number of T-Break showcase gigs are put on at the Liquid Room, with the most impressive performers winning a place at T in the Park. We had been at one such event (featuring amongst others, Alex Cornish(wearing his trusty red check-shirt, as ever), Haight Ashbury and Tommy Reilly), and decided to stop off for a quick pint or two on the way home, here being the first stopping point. A traditional Scots pub located round the back of Waverley station, The Hebrides was packed despite the late hour, with an impromptu folk session taking place by the bar. The sizeable crowd and intimiate nature of the pub gave rise to it being bloody boiling inside though! Worth a visit.

The Doric (Market Street, 36): In the absence of a true Aberdonian (they'd never have bought a round anyway), we were joined by Stonehaven's Flora Cook for our visit to The Doric.Last orders had already been called by the time we entered the place, and to be hones the place might as well have already been shut. We were the only punters in the place, and the bar staff seemed to be in a hurry to get rid of us. God knows why....

Grand Cru (Hanover Street, 13/23/27): Go into a New Town bar (you can't really call them pubs, can you?) on a Saturday afternoon and you'll generally find two groups of people; increasingly loud gaggles of women necking a lot of wine and discussing recent shopping purchases, and groups of blokes whiling away the afternoons with a few pints rather than being dragged round the shops. On this particular Saturday, The Management represented a third distinct group. After seeing The Wynd at the Ark the previous night, Nick had ended up in the casino, and was tackling his hangover by having 'just a few'** pints to aid his progress through the day. I had elected to join him for part of that journey. Grand Cru was one of the afternoon's stopping points, and bore a striking resemblance to someone's living room, with thick carpets and big sofas. I didn't see anything which made the place stand out in the slightest – in fact the place was entirely forgettable. Nick did manage to smash his glass, however – an event which coincided with our departure...

The Hudson Hotel and Bar (Hope Street, 1/3/4/10/11/12/13/15/16/17/19/22/24/25/26/30/31/33/34/36/37/41/44//47/X48/100 is the latest in a lengthening list of pubs to become eligible for The Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge due to temporary diversions in place whilst the tram system is constructed. Notorious both for its 'grab-a-granny' club located underground and the abysmal pints they serve, I cannot think of a single reason to recommend The Hudson to anyone. Overpriced, too loud and too warm, there are bars in the West End which manage to perform the same function to a far higher standard.


Until the next time...

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 98

*Note: Entirely true.
**Note: Nick ended up in the casino for a consecutive night, and apparently incurred a hangover which lasted into the following Tuesday.

NOT-SO-RECENT HAPPENINGS

Evening all. I realise it has been an exceptionally long time since the last blog entry – however this delay is fully justified as The Management have been busy with dissertations, exams (both academic and professional) and drinking – each of these things automatically takes priority to sitting on the computer typing up a report of said adventures. For this reason, this particular entry will aim to have a theme of “maximum information, minimum bullshit” - so whilst you enjoy clear and concise reviews of the latest watering holes, you won't have to put up with us making crap jokes about Adam Johns (however readers should note that this decision was aided by the fact that Mr Johns hasn't been out on the Pub Challenge in the last 6 months).

Joseph Pearce's (Elm Row, 7/10/11/12/14/16/22/25/49) is apparently now Swedish-themed, which thankfully does not mean that they now charge 7 quid per pint. Instead, this vintage pub now has a slightly camp ambiénce (it is not a pink bar though – don't worry) with candles on the tables, comfy seats and a 'children's corner', where families are encouraged to gather.

The Elm Bar (Elm Row, 7/10/11/12/14/16/22/25/49) is probably the worst pub I've ever visited. Not only is the place an absolute dive, but the service was appalling – it took myself, Nick and Ian Davidson almost 15 minutes to be served. This delay was not due to the barman's alarming likeness to Mr T, however.

The Brunswick Bar (Elm Row, 7/10/11/12/14/16/22/25/49) a bit of a strange one; the place was quite nice inside and did a great pint,but it was absolutely dead (and no they didn't have advance warning that we'd be there). There's potential for someone to make something of it when all the UNITE student halls pop up round there next year.

The Hopetoun Bar and Diner (McDonald Road, 13) is a John Barras pub, so once again I don't need to offer a detailed analysis. Suffice to say Nick managed to find himself in the company of a rather bigoted Rangers man (is there any other kind?), and Greig Bingham's name was mentioned several times. Greig Bingham was not present at this time.

The Slug and Lettuce (Omni Centre, Greenside Place, 1/4/5/7/8/10/11/12/14/15/16/17/19/22/25/26/34/44/45/49) is a chain effort and is almost indistinguishable from any of the other faceless bars within the Omni Centre. Nick was adamant that Neil McDonald should have been with us that night though, because “his nickname is The Lettuce and he looks like a slug”. Fair enough.

Deacon Brodie's Tavern (Bank Street/Lawnmarket, 23/27/41/42/45): William Brodie (1741–1788), more commonly known by his prestigious title of Deacon Brodie, was a Scottish cabinet-maker, deacon of the trades guild and Edinburgh city councillor, who maintained a secret life as a burglar, partly for the thrill, and partly to fund his gambling.
By day, Brodie was a respectable businessman, member of the burgh council and deacon (or president) of the Incorporation of Wrights and Masons. Part of his job in building cabinets was to install and repair their locks and other security mechanisms and repair door locks. He also served on a jury. He socialised with the gentry of Edinburgh, meeting poet Robert Burns and the painter Sir Henry Raeburn. He was also a member of The Edinburgh Cape Club.
At night, however, Brodie became a burglar and thief. He used his daytime job as a way to gain knowledge about the security mechanisms of his clients and to copy their keys using wax impressions. As the foremost wright of the city, Brodie was asked to work in the homes of many of the richest members of Edinburgh society. He used the illicit money to maintain his second life, including five children, two mistresses who did not know of each other, and a gambling habit. He reputedly began his criminal career around 1768 when he copied keys to a bank door and stole £800. In 1786 he recruited a gang of three thieves, Brown, Smith and Ainslie.
The case that lead to Brodie's downfall began later in 1786 when he organised an armed raid on an Excise office in Chessel's Court on the Canongate. Brodie's plan failed and Ainslie was captured. Ainslie agreed to turn King's evidence, to avoid transportation, and informed on the rest of the gang. Brodie escaped to the Netherlands intending to flee to the United States but was arrested in Amsterdam and shipped back to Edinburgh for trial.
The trial started August 27, 1788. At first there was no hard evidence against Brodie before the tools of his criminal trade were found in his house; copied keys, a disguise and pistols. The jury found Brodie and his henchman George Smith, a grocer, guilty. Smith was an English locksmith, he was responsible for a number of thefts, even stealing the silver mace from the University of Edinburgh.
Brodie and Smith were hanged at the Tolbooth October 1, 1788, using a gallows Brodie had designed and funded the year before. According to one tale, Brodie wore a steel collar and silver tube to prevent the hanging from being fatal. It was said that he had bribed the hangman to ignore it and arranged for his body to be removed quickly in the hope that he could later be revived. If so, the plan failed. Brodie was buried in an unmarked grave at the Parish Church in Buccleuch. However rumours of his being seen in Paris circulated later and gave the story of his scheme to evade death further publicity.
Popular myth holds that Deacon Brodie built the first gallows in Edinburgh and was also its first victim. Of this William Roughead in Classic Crimes states that after research he was sure that although the Deacon may have had some hand in the design "...it was certainly not of his construction, nor was he the first to benefit by its ingenuity".
The dichotomy between Brodie's respectable façade, and his real nature inspired Robert Louis Stevenson to write The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde. Stevenson's father had furniture made by Brodie.
Or so it says on wikipedia - the pub is a bit of a rubbish tourist trap though.

The Strathmore Bar (Iona Street, diverted 13): our visit here almost gave rise to a financial stooshie; having passed the sign calling the bar “The Trathie” (the S having fallen off a long time ago), I was sceptical of Nick's claims that the place was indeed called The Strathmore, even to the point at which I offered to raise a £300 waiger on the matter. Thankfully Mr Chris McCall talked me down from the ledge.

Tamson's (the old Footballer's Arms, Easter Road, 1/13/35) looks fairly uninviting from the outside but once we crossed the threshold it turned out to be a nice little pub. We had planned to have one pint and one pint only, but quicky developed a residency at the bar, helped by Mr Chadha repeatedly (and conveniently) missing his bus by a matter of minutes.

The Black Bull (Leith Street/Calton Road, 1/5/7/14/19/22/25/34/49) is renouned for its popularity with local punks and metal fans, and has the jukebox to match. The thought of the place provokes tinitis in me, and we were only in at the back of 7! Not one for the hard of hearing.

The Newsroom (Leith Street, 1/5/7/14/19/22/25/34/49) is a cocktail bar/juice bar/ponce fest but it served a nice halfway point for the walk between the Black Bull and our next point of call (roughly 50 yards round the corner), and surprisingly did a very good pint of Guinness. I'm not sure if it was a deliberate point given the name of the joint, or whether it was simply a reflection on the type of place The Newsroom is, but I was pleased to see that a full-ish selection of the days' broadsheets was available for persual whilst one drank their pint.

The Waterloo Buffet (Waterloo Place, X25/X26) is a strange little place tucked away beyond the end of Princes Street but before Calton Hill. Busy during the day with commuters necking a swift half before catching their buses to West Lothian or wherever it is they go, the place is dead at night – indeed our only company in the bar was a rather drunk fellow who insisted on telling us his life story. Twice. It may have been coincidence but it was at around this point that the barmaid decided to call time on proceedings. We headed straight upstairs to The Ark (Waterloo Place, X25/X26) a music venue-cum-bar where singer-songwriting and all round good guy Alex Cornish was wearing a red-check shirt and playing some tunes. If you want to read a review of the gig you should check here, we stood at the back and drank a lot of Guinness so were in no place to pass comment.

The Living Room (George Street, 13,19,36,37,41,47,X47): From time to time, The Management engage in social drinking, rather than simply dragging themselves into pubs and making jokes about Adam Johns. Our visit to The Living Room was one such occasion, as we joined PWC's finest for some kind of birthday 'do, a 21st or something*. A couple of the PWC crowd had been exercising their drinking muscles since lunchtime and thus were rather er, merry, especially one bloke who at one stage must have had about 4 pints in front of him – seemingly with each cigarette break he would forget that his collection was increasing. The place itself was quite classy, not just 'stylish' or 'trendy' as many New Town bars seem to be. Nick has asked me to point out that he found the cocktails substandard – at first I thought he was bemoaning the lack of an umbrella or cherry tomato but no, he genuinely wasn't impressed with his celery and cucumber concoction, or whatever it was. I had a mojito and an Estonian beer, both passed the test.

Until the next time....

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 88

*Note: this may not be true.

THE CALEY ALE HOUSE

On Saturday 15th March 2008, the Caley Ale House (see above) next door to Haymarket station will close its doors for the final time, in order to make way for the first of Edinburgh’s new tramlines. This will be a sad moment for several, including myself, as the Ale House has been one of my favourite boozers since moving to this city nearly four years ago.

The first time I visited the Caley Ale House was the first time I had a drink in Edinburgh: I was sixteen (hello licensing board, don’t bother, it shuts in ten days anyway) and had been at an Edinburgh uni open day. Having been to the token two lectures in order to tell my folks what I’d seen, I met Nick and Paul McKay for a pint. Nick insisted on ordering draught Budweiser for some reason – something which would (thankfully) be unheard of these days. Paul, of course, stuck to his usual pint of Tennents’ Lager. I can’t remember what it was specifically that I liked about the place (perhaps it was the fact that I was being served, perhaps it was the fact that I’d decided to move to Edinburgh, perhaps it was the fact that it was the first pub in which I really felt at home – who cares?) but from then on I loved the place.

Fast forward three months - just shy of a year before I moved down south actually – and myself, Nick and Paul again convened in the Caley Ale House. We had more of an occasion this time, however, as we were going to see, now-defunct band, The Stands play an acoustic set in the basement of HMV on Princes Street. Thankfully, drink tastes had moved on somewhat (for this we should probably thank Inverness’ Bar Pivo) and Pilsner Urquell was the order of the day. I honestly can’t remember if we only had the one pint or if we managed to stretch it to a second, but again it felt like home. The set was pretty good as well, and looking back at the photo, well…it was a long time ago.



It was a good while before the Caley Ale House received another visit – June 2004 in fact, and by this point the bar staff could almost have got away with serving me. Again it was myself, Nick and Paul who were present. We’d been to see Bob Dylan at the SECC the night before, and somehow Paul had ended up incredibly hungover – maybe it was just my youth but I was fine. Anyway the Pilsner Urquell was gone, and had been replaced with Germany’s Furstenburg (the first time I tried the stuff actually – I remember ranting and raving about it at a friend’s 18th when I got home that night).

Of course, after I moved to Edinburgh, visits to the Ale House became more regular. The first was as part of an impromptu pissup towards the end of my freshers week which began in the Caley Sample Rooms around 7 and ended in the Tron just after midnight. The place then became a regular drinking haunt, especially as they used to play The Best of James seemingly every time we were in. There were weeknights spent talking crap, weekend nights spent kidding ourselves we wouldn’t end up in Citrus, afternoons supping on a sly pint or two. It was even the starting place of a session of ridiculous proportions towards the end of my first year which was meant to help Nick get over his recent split from then girlfriend Liz – of course the night ended up with him being sick in the middle of Rose Street after being plied with drinks by an unknown Irish punter who’d been propping up the bar.


The infamous Rose St night, pictured

Second year came and went, still the Ale House served as a regular watering hole, and increasingly we were joined by Nick’s flatmate Ewen Leask. Into my third year of uni and visits would become almost ritual whenever Ewen returned to town – one night last summer saw us polish off twelve pints of Best each, and yet Nick somehow still made it into work the next day. Me? I’d just finished my exams, I was happy to stay in bed mate…

Shortly after that (we're talking weeks not hours, don't worry), we decided that we’d go on a bit of a pubcrawl but rather than drinking in regular haunts we’d see if we could find a few new boozers – and thus the Great Edinburgh Pub Challenge was dreamt up. Where was our first pint that day? - where else could it have been?

Given the nature of the pub challenge, visits to the pub have been in stupid places, and we’ve taken in some really awful boozers – much of the time we’d have been better off in the Caley Ale House, which has probably suffered from only a slight drop in custom over the last 6 months. Still, we’ll be there for the funeral, and we hope you will be too (black tie recommended – no white socks please Mr Johns).

Until the next time…or until then.


NB The Caledonian Ale House closes its doors for the last time on 15 March 2008. All are welcome to join The Management and friends in paying their last respects to a legendary watering hole.

THE BALMORAL (not that one) AND OTHER RECENT HAPPENINGS

After what seemed like an absolute age away from the pub, a week or so ago The Management convened in The Balmoral (Dalry Road, 2/3/4/25/33/44) for a few jars, accompanied by Greig Blenheim (making his first appearance in a number of months – seemingly he wasn’t happy about his name constantly being spelled incorrectly) and Nick’s flatmate Colly. The Guinness was good, the barmaids weren’t bad, the booths were comfy but if I’m going to be really picky, I didn’t like the blue neon lights above the bar.

Most places we’ve been in so far have had fairly respectable clientele – ok, they may be complete and utter jakeys (quiet, you at the back) but they’ll usually keep themselves to themselves and offer nothing more offensive by way of conversation than the odd grunt or a bit of drivel falling onto their chin. It was therefore nice to go somewhere less civilised: a Hearts pub. Robertson’s (Gorgie Road, 1/3/25/33), to be precise. Now it didn’t seem that bad from the outside, just a few punters lagered up and singing karaoke, but when the first thing that someone says to you at the bar is, “Alright mate, fuck the Pope”, you know you’re in for a treat. There were interesting additions to the lyrics of Neil Diamond’s ‘Sweet Caroline’, there were interesting characters aplenty and there was the first blatant breach of the smoking ban that we’d witnessed. Being a big time Rangers man, I don’t think it was as much of a culture shock to Greig as it was to either Nick or myself.

For those of you who are nitpicky (and/or actually read this), you’ll notice that our Resident Statistician’s latest thrillingly informative collection of facts and figures states us as having visited 75 pubs, but the last sub-total was a mere 73. This lack of consensus is due in equal measures to his over-eager nature and my lackadaisical approach to anything he tries to tell me. Following this entry, you may consider the situation rectified.

Until the next time….

CUMULATIVE PUB COUNT: 75