Tuesday, 28 February 2012

Hove on the rocks, ain't no surprise-No.16 Blue Lagoon Bar

When: Saturday February 25th 2012
Where: The Blue Lagoon Bar, 330 Kingsway, Hove
I paid £3.80 for a pint of Kronenbourg
Ahhh, the Blue Lagoon. The very name for most people conjures up evocative images of palm trees, golden sands, crystal clear waters and mmmmm, Brooke Shields. Probably not some beaten up old B & B/pub on the fringes of Shoreham docks. Still never mind, those with a vivid imagination (or perhaps severe myopia) will find the views of Hove lagoon to the east of the pub a more than capable substitute. Just with added windsurfers, swan shit and other assorted floating detritus thrown in for good measure. And this Blue Lagoon can boast of having some greats of the showbiz world amongst its neighbours. In full view to the south are the rear of the seafront residences of Hove's 'millionaires row', which at one time or another has been called home by the likes of Paul McCartney/Heather Mills (before the acrimonious split), Fatboy/Zoe Ball and erm, Nick Berry (those ITV3 repeats of Heartbeat must pay well!). I'm not sure if there is any truth to the rumours that Sir Paul used to pop in for a quiet pint in between world tours but Heather Mills has definitely been seen legless.

The pub itself is split into two bars. Downstairs is a specialist 'Sports' bar whilst upstairs houses the main 'Sea View' bar and it was here I began my visit. It was quiet for a Saturday despite (or maybe because of) the fact it was karaoke night and a rather desperate sounding host was vainly trying to drum up some interest amongst a bored looking group of locals at the bar and a quieter group of OAPs enjoying dinner in the corner. Being so sparsely populated it is easy to stand out, particularly when you're standing at the bar scrawling in a notepad and less than subtly taking photos, and it wasn't long before I caught the attention of the landlord Al,  who pulled me to one side and politely enquired as to what I was doing. I thought about giving it the big 'Don't you know who I am?' routine, but reasoned that he was hardly likely to offer to keep me in free Kronenbourg all night and take my pick of the barmaids in exchange for a good review in an online blog read by twelve people. Instead, I gave him a vague outline of the blog, wimpily assured him I wouldn't be writing anything unkind and showed him my notes, which fortunately at this point contained nothing that could see me getting kicked out (or in). He still seemed a bit wary but eventually accepted my story and left me to my own devices for the rest of the evening. Maybe it was just my imagination but from that point onwards the bar staff seemed particularly friendly towards me and concerned for my well-being. Or maybe I'm just being cynical and they're like this with all the punters. Anyway, I salute them now.
The karaoke had finally got into full swing during my interrogation and the pensioners had obviously had their inhibitions loosened by a couple of G & T's as they went from sitting reticently in the corner to being unable to leave the bloody thing alone. This microphone monopolisation wasn't going down too well with the locals and I had my pen poised in anticipation of finally reporting on a bit of action.Well it was my sixteenth pub, it was about time I saw a fight. (Un?)fortunately I was spared the sight of flying zimmer frames and dentures as a particularly appalling version of 'Love on the rocks' by Sid saw the disgruntled locals head en masse for the door and into a waiting fleet of taxis. They disappeared into the night, presumably on their way to terrorise the residents of Shoreham. As another glam rock granny got up to belt out 'Don't you want me' (might have been Phil Oakey's sister, Carrie) I decided to follow their lead and that it was probably time to check out the sports bar.
An obvious amount of effort has been put in to the sports bar and it certainly deserved to be busier than three customers and a parrot with tourettes. There's two pool tables, two dartboards, bar billiards, three TV's a Wii and the parrot itself, which sits in a corner and occasionally pipes up with the kind of language that can charitably be described as 'colourful'. Once upon a time it would've made me blush but fourteen years at Royal Mail have hardened my sensibilities and it's nothing now that I don't hear 200 times a day (400 if Gary Bennett's in). What particularly caught my eye though, were the array of old football shirts, scarves and photos that adorn every wall and even the ceiling. Obviously donated by visiting supporters (unless Al had been busy trawling charity shops and eBay), teams were represented from as far away as Berwick Rangers and St. Mirren. As something of a sports memorabilia geek, I spent a happy 45 minutes just studying the photos and shirts and reliving matches from my childhood (back when football was good, not the greed orientated soulless spectacle it is today). Ultimately, the Blue Lagoon probably suffers from its location. Place it in Brighton or even further in to Hove and the place would be packed, particularly on days when the Albion are at home. I must admit it's a lot better than I expected it to be. Al, in the unlikely event that you ever read this, I told you I wouldn't write anything bad.

Dog friendly: No            Parrot friendly: Yep, he is, particularly if you find 'c##t! a term of endearment.

Entertainment: Table football and quiz machine in the Sea View bar, 2 pool tables, 2 dartboards, 3 Tv's showing Sky Sports, ESPN and 3 P.M Saturday Premiership games, a Wii, bar billiards and a potty mouthed parrot in the Sports bar.

Outdoor seating: A small courtyard to the side that unfortunately sits in the middle of a public footpath. On the plus side there's always the off chance of spotting Nick Berry taking a shortcut home.

Food: A large menu freshly cooked on the premises as it caters for B & B guests as well. Reasonable prices. A rather small selection of drinks available. The Harveys was off.

Miscellaneous: Saturdays is karaoke night, Wednesdays play host to the table football league and the pub has been known to put on the odd 'Elvis' night!

OVERALL SCORE: 7.5/10.....pretty good you c**t! (as the parrot might say)

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