Paddy Cool-No.22 Molly Malone's

When: Monday March 17th 2014
Where: Molly Malone's, 57 West St., Brighton
I paid: Christ knows

                                   
 *** DISCLAIMER: THE FOLLOWING REVIEW MAYBE RATHER HEAVY ON IRISH STEREOTYPING, THIS IS IN NO WAY INTENDED TO CAUSE OFFENCE. TO BE SURE***

The Irish know how to party. St. Patrick's Day, in honour of Ireland's patron saint, is a globally renowned event where those with ties to the Emerald Isle can proudly show off their heritage with festivals, parades and drinking Guinness until they're sick. Unfortunately, no amount of digging into the Foad family background could turn up even the most spurious of claims to Irish descendancy. I once had a neighbour who shipped over a greyhound from a rescue centre in Cork, but whilst this would probably be enough to earn me consideration for selection to their national football team I was unsure it gave me the right to plaster on a fake shamrock tattoo (and drink Guinness until I was sick). Luckily, my two companions for the day were the genuine article and have Irish blood coursing through their veins (one was born in Brighton, one Lewisham). They assured me that nobody would actually care that I didn't know how to pronounce Taoiseach, let alone spell it, and that I should just tag along for the 'craic'. We chose to head to Molly Malone's, Brighton's self proclaimed 'Authentic' Irish pub (admittedly only after we were told we'd have to queue for over an hour to get into the Fiddler's Elbow round the corner). Normally I would avoid West Street like the plague. Benign enough on this Monday afternoon, at weekend's it transforms into Brighton's version of the wild west (street) where packs of angry young men roam around, eyeballing others and just spoiling for a fight.......still, that's the police for you.

Compulsory idiot in compulsory idiot's hat and shirt

As I've never set foot on Irish soil I can't possibly comment on whether 'Molly's' is a faithful reproduction of a traditional pub or not. Still, it sold Jameson's and the bar staff were busy dishing out those stupid tall Guinness hats from behind the large centrally located bar and this was good enough for me. Irish tricolours bedecked the walls and although it was still early afternoon there was already a good sized crowd in, many sporting clothes in various shades of green (plus the idiot in the Royal Mail shirt). The band were just warming up and my mate wandered over for a chat with them as they did so. He returned sputtering indignantly about the fiddler being born in Ashford and the singer in Surrey, "they're not even bloody Irish!", conveniently overlooking the fact that he himself is always passing himself off as a proud Irishman despite being born in the Royal Sussex. I was enjoying myself too much to point out the slight hypocrisy (let him read about it here). Anyway, it mattered not a jot to me, I wouldn't know an authentic Irish sound if you hit me over the head with a dord (look it up). Genuine or not, the band launched into their set of traditional songs.....'Whiskey in the jar' and erm, the one that sounds a bit like 'Fairytale of New York' but isn't and the one that is practically unintelligible (must've been the Pogues version) other than the "dirty old town......dirrrrrty old town" bit that everyone can join in with. Unfortunately there was no B*Witched, I expect they were saving the good stuff for the bigger crowds in the evening. It's even easy to get the hang of Irish dancing, just jig around a little, stamp your feet and clap your hands. Occasionally I was nearly in time with the music. Under no circumstances though should you emit a loud, "yeeeeehaaah!". This is liable to earn you a stern look from the heavyset bloke at the bar and the withering rebuke, "it's not a fucking barn dance"........that was me told then.

The Mother leprechaun

By now it had gone 6 p.m. and the pub was filling up nicely as people arrived from work. Those that had already been there all afternoon were beginning to show signs of wear and tear and it was clear that if Molly Malone was done with her wheelbarrow on Dublin's broad and narrow streets it could well be put to good use here later carting inebriated punters into the street. I too was beginning to feel the pace having been up fourteen hours and unused to the heady mix of stout and whiskey (and alright, I'm a lightweight). On one slightly unsteady return trip from the toilets I clumsily tripped against a person at the bar who unfortunately turned out to be 'Barn Dance Guy', this earned me another cold stare and a, "no wonder my mail is always being put through the wrong bloody door". It was clear that I'd upset him for reasons unknown, maybe he'd seen through my Plastic Paddy charade. Anyway, it was time to go before I became another statistic of West Street violence. It was a shame because I was enjoying myself, it's true that (faux or not) the Irish like to party and are rightfully proud of their roots. But so are the English! Roll on St. George's day on the erm...umm.....I think it's in April some time?

Richard drowns his sorrows after only coming 7th in a 'Benny from Crossroads' lookalike contest

Dog friendly: nope                                                               Quiz: nope

Food and drink: Good selection of drinks and a menu of good priced traditional pub grub as well as Irish favourites (potatoes).

Entertainment: No pool table or dartboard but there is an underused fruit machine. Live music all year round. Downstairs area available for hire.

Outside seating: None. Those with a taste for violence can pretend to take up smoking, stand outside on West Street on a Saturday night and watch the punches fly.

OVERALL SCORE: 7/10.........Hey, free wooly hats!

Young, free and shingle-No.21 Pebbles on the Port

When: Tuesday February 25th 2014
Where: Pebbles on the Port, Lady Bee Marina, Southwick
I paid: £3:80 for a pint of Kronenbourg

***WARNING: THE FOLLOWING REVIEW HAS BEEN ISSUED WITH AN 18 CERTIFICATE
 OWING TO STRONG LANGUAGE AND EXTREMELY CRAP PHOTOS FROM THE OUTSET***
                                   

dum, dum, dum, dum, thumb

Table for two, sir? No.20- The Cliftonville Inn

When: Wednesday May 15th 2013
Where: The Cliftonville Inn, 98-101 George Street, Hove
I paid: £2.29 for a pint of Godfather's, £6.79 for steak & kidney pudding for erm, two

I'd just spent the last hour at my book club, digesting the joyful 'Night Circus' by Erin Morgenstern. Wrestling with those all important questions such as "how does Isobel serve as a foil to Celia"?, or more pertinently, "what the hell I am doing here"? Face it, you too would need a pint on the way home after suffering through that. Options are limited in this neck of the woods however and I couldn't go to the Slug & Lettuce as I didn't have a sweater to drape around my shoulders. Enter the Cliftonville Inn, a franchise of the much derided Wetherspoons chain. Cheap, cheerful and offering plenty of opportunity for more soul searching,  "a quick pint, or a bite to eat as well"?, or more pertinently, "what the hell am I doing here"?

You know where you are with a Wetherspoons though, there are no surprises. And no frills. A large room filled with rather desperate looking punters with noses that would put Alex Ferguson to shame, putting the world to rights. Most of them look like they've been there a good few hours. Unsurprisingly, I spot a few postmen. Whilst  I'm waiting at the bar, a man named Julian is being refused service from the barman. You've got to go some to be refused service at a Wetherspoons. Julian causes a scene that makes even the hardened drinkers look up from their pints and then he meekly slinks away, compounding his embarrassment by pushing for 30 seconds on the exit door marked 'pull'. I overhear the barman telling his colleague that they'd had to get the paramedics in to treat Julian that morning and he'd only been released from hospital a couple of hours previously. Hardcore. Also a little bit sad.

I'm a fine one to talk about being sad. Despite being a Billy nae Mates I decide to order the arbitrary priced two steak & kidney puddings for £6.79, and eat them myself. All that reading had given me an appetite, I could only hope the food would be easier to digest than 'The Night Circus'. I go through the pretence of waiting for a friend, looking at my watch and playing with my phone but I don't think the staff are fooled. Fortunately they're too kind to say anything and my fellow drinkers are too busy chowing down on their own food or watching the Chelsea game to notice as I wolf the lot. One of the big screen TV's in the pub is showing the football the other is tuned in to a soap opera I don't recognise, possibly EastEnders. As a concession to the fact that most of the punters are of pensionable age and maybe hard of hearing, the subtitles are switched on. That's no use to those that are also blind as a bat however (i.e. me) and I can only speculate as to what they might say (cor blimey Alfie, whatcha fink, is it Shell's baby?). The atmosphere is all quite amiable and I decide to stay for another (pint, not steak & kidney pudding). That's the good thing about a Wetherspoons, at £2.29 a pint, a considerable lightweight such as me could get hammered for under a tenner if I so desired. Sorted.

Dog Friendly: Yes                                       Quiz: No

Food: A large menu, breakfast served from 8 AM, coffee, 2 for 1 deals, probably not the greatest food in the world but for the price you can't complain. Quite a large selection of drinks, from £1.99 a pint (or half by the time most of them have been transported to their destination).

Entertainment: Two fruit machines. A couple of large screen TV's. Sky TV. Watching Julian get barred.

Live Music: None

Outside seating: None, stand and smoke on George Street or handily placed for nipping to Ladbrokes across the way. Decoration in the pub is sparse, tables rather than any comfortable seating and a dubious carpet.

Toilets: Stank

Miscellaneous: Praise for the bar staff who were probably the friendliest yet and turned a blind eye as I demolished two steak & kidney puddings.

OVERALL SCORE: 3.5/10................does exactly what it says on the tin.

Ah, I've got it, accordions! No.19 - The Ranelagh

When: Sunday May 12th 2013
Where: The Ranelagh Arms, 2-3 High Street, Brighton
I paid: £3.60 for a pint of Doom Bar, £3.00 for a Malibu & Coke (not mine!)

Although it's address is officially listed as High Street, the Ranelagh is situated right on the corner with St. James Street and the 'colourful' street life that comes with it. The area has been gentrifed in recent years but is still home to some of the edgier fringes of society and you can always expect to see a mix of unconvincing transvestites, street drinkers, students and the little old dears with their shopping trolleys determinedly battling through the throngs on their way to Morrisons. The street is quiet on this miserable Sunday afternoon though,  as is the pub itself. In fact we are the only customers. I say 'we' as I have been joined by my mate Sara, who came along because "I've nothing better to do", which his hardly a ringing endorsement either for the pub or for my company. We are served by a monumentally bored looking barmaid who at least has the saving grace of having a monumentally impressive chest. The order for a malibu and coke is probably a more common occurence in other nearby establishments but any shame on my part is unfounded as she manages to show almost complete disinterest.

The pub is self proclaimed as Brighton's 'legendary' blues bar although maybe this is only true amongst the blues fraternity. A quick straw poll at work revealed that only a few people were aware of its existence, although as postmen they really can't be expected to know where anything is. It's decorated with posters and  pictures for seminal American bluesmen such as BB King, Howlin Wolf and John Lee Hooker whilst the soundtrack being played behind the bar was heavily blues influenced. The barmaid didn't seem to notice (or more likely didn't care) that it was on a loop of the same five or six songs however and after being there for an hour or so we were starting to feel like were listening to a special blues version of Heart FM. During the brief lull in between songs we had the added bonus of being able to hear disco diva classics being belted out at the Sunday afternoon karaoke of the gay bar down the street. (review pending)

As well as the gig posters there are old guitars on show around the place, as well as the musical instruments that with a few beers and Sunday afternoon lethargy fogging our minds neither of us were able to come up with the name of and  had to settle for 'them squeezie things' (this wasn't a reference to the barmaids chest). On closer inspection, one of the guitars had a small plaque next to it that stated it had been purchased from the estate of Robert Coleman upon his death in 1982. Impressive. If they'd purchased his corpse at the same time and were stashing it in the toilets I wouldn't be surprised, it might explain the smell.

After an hour or so the barmaid was replaced by an older guy who made up for what he lacked in the cleavage department by at least being friendlier and trying to get us interested in upcoming gigs. I like the blues, albeit the more up tempo numbers, the "I lost my job, my dog has just died" variety can become a bit dirge-like after a while. The miserable weather outside and our equally miserable reception didn't help our impressions but I will definitely give it another chance. On a live music night with a few more people in the place it's got potential, even if some of the staff have got the blues.

Dog Friendly: Welcome except when there's live music on     Staff Friendly: No

Outside seating: Small patio area at the side where you can watch a couple of 'locals' brawl over the last can of Special Brew and listen to 'I will survive' being belted out by Lily Savage. Also there is no comfortable seating inside, maybe you have to suffer for the blues and it's just not the same lounging in a leather settee.

Quiz: Nah                                                      Food: Nah

Live Music: Most nights of the week. Blues, folk, rock and Americana predominantly. That's alright then.

Miscellaneous: It smelt like something had died in the toilets, maybe Robert Coleman? Sara thought the fireplace was impressive, I'll take her word for that.

OVERALL SCORE: 6/10.......................Got no place to go (da da da da dah), you should give it a go.

What planet you on? No.18- The Neptune Inn

When: Wednesday May 8th 2013
Where: The Neptune Inn, 10 Victoria Terrace, Hove
I paid: £3.30 for a pint of Harvey's

Quality, down to earth boozer if you ask me. Complete shithole, if you ask Rich Francis. The Neptune is probably always going to divide opinion depending on personal taste. It certainly doesn't look like much, situated in the middle of a scruffy row of shops directly across the road from the smarter Sussex pub. The ongoing work on the buildings exterior doesn't help as the pubs sign is almost completely obscured. Any passing prospective punters could be forgiven for thinking the place was abandoned, if it wasn't for the furtive smokers huddled outside letting their dogs piss on the scaffolding.

Most of the pubs regulars match their surroundings in that both have probably seen better days. Worn and weather-beaten, they could've come straight from a Seasick Steve lookalike competition, and that's just the women. They're all unfailingly friendly though, in the manner of people who've been in there all day and have no plans to be anywhere else in a hurry. Dogs are positively encouraged and it all makes for a nice, relaxed atmosphere. Despite its reputation as a blues pub the barmaid played an eclectic mix of music behind the bar and the entertainment for the evening was watching a Seasick Steve-alike busting a few moves to Rod Stewart's butchering of 'This ole heart of mine'. The walls are covered with posters for previous gigs as well as photos of musicians who have supposedly at one time or another appeared at the pub. Gary Moore I can believe but I have a hard time imagining that Eric Clapton or David Bowie have ever graced the Neptune 'stage'. Regular live music is a staple of the pub though and can attract an enthusiastic audience in the intimate surroundings.

 
I was originally only going to stop for a quick pint but before I knew it a couple of hours had passed (2 pints then!). I would've stayed for longer but the stairs down to the toilets represent quite a precipitous challenge after a few pints. It's just the sort of place I like though, relaxed and friendly. I'd be quite happy if the majority continue to view it as a dump because then it will remain relatively undiscovered and I can continue to enjoy it in peace. I might even start to work on that Seasick Steve beard.      

Dog Friendly: Very                          Food: None advertised.

Outside seating: None. Scaffolding at the front of the building doubles as a dogs toilet, the alley at the side doubles as a humans one.                      

Entertainment: No pool table, dartboard or fruit machine. Small flatscreen TV showing only terrestrial television, no Sky.

Live music: Virtually every night of the week, geared towards blues and jazz. Always free.

OVERALL SCORE: 8.8/10..........I like it, I want to retire here.

It's a yes from me!- No.17 The Seafield

When: Friday 9th November 2012
Where: The Seafield, 150 Church Road, Hove
I paid: £7 for a pint of Fosters and pint of Harveys

I must admit to a few misgivings before tackling The Seafield, having received poor feedback from mates as well as reading a few less than complimentary comments about it online. Furthermore, the pub itself doesn't look particularly inviting from the outside, being rather small and drab. I also find the frosted glass windows a bit off-putting as you're never quite sure what you're getting yourself into before crossing the threshold. On the plus side, once inside this means that any passing acquaintances on the street can't look in and see that you're sad enough to be drinking in The Seafield on a Friday night....This is the kind of ammunition that can be used against you for weeks at Royal Mail.

At least if I was spotted I wouldn't be labelled a sad solo boozer having  roped in my mate Caroline to assist me with the review. Blessed with a keener sense of observation than myself and with a particular talent for spotting 'looky likies' she wasted no time in assessing the handful of fellow bar flies and pointing out that we were sharing a pub with, "him who's just died off of Bargain Hunt" and "a fat, old, Simon Cowell". So erm, Simon Cowell basically. We probably halved the average age of the punters just by walking in but received a  warm welcome from the barmaid, indeed the bar staff remained cheerful throughout our visit, even exchanging high fives with some of the more privileged regulars (obviously as first time visitors we hadn't yet earned one).

The interior of the pub can probably be at best charitably described as 'cosy'. Despite the size, they've managed to squeeze in a couple of comfortable leather sofas with a somewhat superfluous chest of drawers wedged in the corner of the room (they had probably been snapped up for a song by dead Bargain Hunt dude). There's no less than four flatscreen TV's mounted on the walls which is definitely overkill considering even on a Friday evening there was less than a dozen people in the place. Only one of them was being utilised during our visit however, permanently tuned in to a race meeting. Indeed, there's a strong horse racing theme throughout the pub, with the walls adorned with various framed pictures of racehorses and a couple of the punters sat slumped on the sofa with the glazed expressions of someone who's going to have to go home and explain to the wife that the weeks wages might be a bit light due to a poor run of results that afternoon at Kempton. In amongst all the racing paraphernalia there was a lone picture of last years royal wedding and whilst at the bar I was reliably informed by 'Simon Cowell' that Kate Middleton was "worth a shag". So in the unlikely event that the lady who's wed to our future king should ever read this review and then at some point in the future find herself in Hove....she'll know exactly where to come for a bit of action.

So The Seafield isn't nearly as bad as I been led to believe. I can't say that I would feel like spending my whole evening there but to pop in for a pint or two it's fine. Even Caroline said it's the kind of place she could comfortably come on her own without fear of being leched over by the old guys at the bar (fortunately she bears no resemblance to Kate Middleton). Yeah I would come back and who knows, next time I might even have earned that high five.

Dog Friendly: Yes                        Food: No menu, but a chalkboard was offering a pizza for £5.00

Outside areas: Small smoking area at the rear or else smoke out on Church Road under the disapproving gaze of the grannies at the bus stop.

Quiz: None advertised.                 Decor: Wood panelling, scruffy carpet, leather sofas.

Entertainment: 4 flatscreen televisions, quiz machine, touchscreen jukebox largely ignored except for the barmaid with a penchant for 90's Britpop. No dartboard or pool table. A handful of crime books to read.

Miscellaneous: A free bowl of mints on the bar was a nice touch, particularly if you're lucky enough to score with 'Simon Cowell'.

OVERALL SCORE: 5.5........It loses .5 of a mark because Caroline didn't like the ceiling, for reasons that escape me now.

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)

A cut above-No15 3 Jolly Butchers

When: Friday, February 17 2012
Where: 3 Jolly Butchers, 59 North Road, Brighton
I paid: £3.45 for a pint of Arundel, £2.95 for some cheesy chips

I hadn't originally intended to review a pub today, but having suffered a particularly bad day at work I suddenly fancied a pint and the 3 Jolly Butchers is handily placed, being just 50 yards up the hill from Stalag 17. Indeed, it used to be a popular after work hangout for postmen before they were lured away by the offer of free bar snacks at the nearby Pond. To be sold down the river for a plateful of stale mini-cheddars is a crying shame, because the 3 JB's (sounds like a funk band) is by far the superior pub in my humble opinion.

It's situated at the top of North Road, just five minutes walk from the train station. The close proximity to a number of offices and call centres means it can get quite crowded at lunchtimes and the small size of the place just adds to the lively feel. The selection of beers on offer is quite small but this is compensated for (if you like this kind of thing, personally I don't) by a large menu of available coffees and teas. I'm seeing this more and more frequently in pubs now and to me it's quite surprising as if there's one thing that Brighton doesn't lack for, it's poncey coffee shops. Surely you don't need to come to the pub for a 'skinny latte'? Still, a quick scan of the other tables confirmed that this was quite a popular choice with the luchtime crowd so who am I to argue? The landlord obviously knows his target consumers better than I do.

I defy anybody to go and sit in a pub at lunchtime and not eventually order food. Even if you're not hungry, the aromas and the sight of other diners tucking in will weaken your resolve in the end (in my case it's academic anyway, I'm always hungry). The 3 JB's offers quite an impressive selection of main meals and snacks (no stale mini-cheddars though!) at fair prices and I opted for a bowl of cheesy chips with which I have to admit I was a little disappointed. They didn't lack for quantity but were a little short on quality (and cheese) and that's coming from someone who's not particularly discerning about what he eats. I thought about ordering up another bowl to see if there was any improvement but instead returned to gawping at the mocha drinking masses and being quietly critical of their attire (it must have been dress down Friday, I'm the first to admit I'm far from the most stylish guy in the world but a shirt, tie, blazer and jeans is just wrong.....bet he was called Rupert). A small certificate on the wall caught my roving eye and it confirmed that the 3 Jolly Butchers is a Carbon Balanced venue. Quite what this means I have no idea but it all sounds very noble. Give me a choice though, between a pub that's doing its bit for our ecological future or one that's going to serve me a decent portion of cheesy chips and I'm going to plump for the latter every time. Selfish? Probably.

Dog Friendly: No                           Quiz:No

Entertainment: One small flatscreen TV showing only major sporting events. No fruit machine, pool table or jukebox.

Outside seating: A few seats outside on Frederick Street, no tables.

Food: Quite a large menu on offer, reasonably priced and the other diners were certainly enjoying their food. Just don't order the cheesy chips!

Live music: The 2nd Wednesday of every month is the Pickin' Party! Feel free to take along your geetars folks, yeeeeehaw!

Happy (jolly?) Hours: 4:30 to 8:30 Mon-Thurs and Sun. £2 on selected beers. Bottles of Tiger beer are available for £2 at all times.

Miscellaneous: It's officially a Carbon Balanced venue. Right on, Brighton.

OVERALL SCORE: 7/10......those Butchers, they had a lot to be jolly about. 

Play Misty for me. No.14 Fogg's

When: Saturday, February 11th 2012
Where: Fogg's, 82 Dyke Road, Brighton
I paid: £3.50 for a pint of Becks and £3.00 for a 'Genuine' Cuban mojito.

Sometimes, it's all a question of timing. Visit a pub on a warm June evening whilst full of the joys of summer and even the most down-at-heel dive suddenly doesn't seem quite so bad (except the Bat & Ball). Visit in the depths of winter though, and the same pub is transformed back into the grotty fleapit you always knew it was. Not that Fogg's Pub/Bar/Restaurant (a pub AND a bar, woah!) is a fleapit, far from it, but on a cold Saturday evening in February, it was difficult to muster up too much enthusiasm for the place or for being there. Sorry Fogg's, but that's just the way it is.

It didn't help that I visited during that early evening no man's land between the afternoon drinkers going home for food and the evening drinkers coming out to play, but when I entered there were precisely five people in the place. This included a woman and her baby, a monumentally bored looking barmaid and another guy behind the bar who I took to be the landlord/owner. I could've have been way off with this assumption but he did have a certain proprietary air about him. The place is tastefully decorated, with subdued lighting and tabletop candles whilst the drinks list is extensive but geared more towards poncey cocktails than beers. It definitely swings away from the pub and more towards the bar side of things on the bar-ometer.

There is one small TV mounted to the left of the bar but no evidence that Sky Sports is shown, it's not really a football watching pub anyway. A couple of books were available on the mantelpiece, a dictionary and somewhat randomly 'The Lonely Planet guide to Switzerland'. I don't know if it was the miserable February evening or the signs on the wall advertising the upcoming 'Valentines night meals' but suddenly it did indeed seem like a very lonely planet. Sitting in an empty pub on my own.....writing a blog that only ten people follow.....it's surprising how morose you can get after half a pint of Becks. Luckily, I was shaken out of these thoughts of self pity by the conversation at the bar. Landlord/owner guy had chosen this time to loudly (he actually could have whispered and still been overheard) make clear his dislike of American TV comedies. It was quite a heated rant (Two & Half Men seemed to be the particular recipient of his ire, maybe Charlie Sheen had slept with his sister?) and I felt like piping up with, "well, don't watch them then", but instead concentrated on setting fire to the menu with a candle.

Not really in the mood for another beer, I decided to sample the pub/bar/restaurants allegedly 'Genuine Cuban Mojito'. It was good stuff but whether it was the real deal or not I wouldn't like to say and having witnessed the earlier attack on second-rate American comedies I wasn't about to provoke another outburst by questioning the authenticity of the drinks. What's a Genuine Cuban Mojito anyway? I was also disappointed when the barmaid failed to ask me if I was Havana nother.

The (charred) food menu was small but competitively priced and I was tempted to stay for a chorizo burger (if I knew what chorizo was) but it was cold outside, I was bored and a quick glance at my watch confirmed that if I got a shift on I could be home in time to catch the end of Harry Hill. Like I say, sometimes, it's all a question of timing.

Dog Friendly: Nope                  Quiz: Tuesday 8:45

Entertainment: No fruit machine, pool table or jukebox. A small TV that remained switched off. You'll have to make do with listening to the landlord go off on one.

Food: Small menu but they certainly made it sound good (and I now know what chorizo is!). Reasonably priced.

Outdoor seating: Wooden seats at the front if you want to choke on the fumes of Dyke Road and a small uncovered patio at the rear.

Miscellaneous: 2 for 1 on certain cocktails between 5-7 every day (but not the Genuine Cuban Mojito).

OVERALL SCORE: 5/10......bar, humbug.

We gotta get out of this place. No.13 The Bat & Ball

When: Saturday, February 11th 2012
Where: Bat & Ball, 51 Ditchling Road, Brighton
I paid: £4.90 for a pint of Courage and a 'wee' brandy.

When I first started this blog part of the aim was to hopefully uncover a few hidden gems. A nice little undiscovered pub tucked away in the back streets perhaps. On the flipside though, it was accepted that eventually I would have to visit a pub that was so God-awful as to have no redeeming features whatsoever. Unfortunately, the Bat & Ball falls squarely into this category.

The pub stands alongside a busy stretch of Ditchling Road that is a jumble of bus lanes, roadworks, pedestrian crossings and one-way streets. Unsurprisingly, it's a notorious accident black spot and the fresh flowers tied to a nearby lampost testify to yet another recent tragedy. Just as surprisingly, as far as I know none of the accidents have been attributed to a sozzled Bat & Ball regular staggering into the road. The pub opens as early as 10 a.m and I've become accustomed to the sight of the hardcore getting in a few 'cheeky' early pints as I pass by whilst working. They might be a step up from the street drinkers on the nearby Level but they're a second cousin, not far removed.

The pub itself is a small affair with spartan furnishings and no comfortable seating. There are TV's at either end of the pub but one of them is an ancient portable from perhaps the mid-1990's and this remained turned off throughout my visit, unless they were just waiting for it to warm up. The other was showing Italy v England in the rugby six nations but few were paying it any heed. They preferred instead to watch the drunk woman drop coins all over the floor whilst attempting to feed them into the jukebox. Nobody was kind enough to point out the large 'jukebox free after 2 p.m. Saturdays' sign, least of all me. When she finally found the necessary dexterity to make her choices she then proceeded to put Adele's 'Rolling in the deep' on three times in a row. Given the choice between listening to that or to the toothless sixty-somethings screech suggestive remarks at each other across the bar, I'd have taken the ancient courtship rituals.

The excitement level almost reached fever pitch when it was announced it was time for the meat raffle. It was by now past 5 p.m. and the draw was to have taken place at 2:30 but when there's a leg of lamb to be won, who's quibbling? I'd earlier found a spare pound coin on the floor (in the vicinity of the jukebox) so was able to join in the fun but as so often in this life I was once again a loser. I did get the pleasure of watching 'Eileen' parading around with the chicken she'd won as second prize though whilst all the blokes leered and made comments along the lines of  'nice breast, darlin' ho ho! Ultimately, the only thing the Bat & Ball has going for it is that everybody seems happy with their lot. The regulars may be a bit of a shoddy bunch but the atmosphere is not a hostile one (although I did get sneered at in the Gents for washing my hands like some kind of pansy) and everyone seems to get on. Maybe when I'm a toothless, pathetic alcoholic I'll enjoy it so much more. Give it another five years then.

Dog friendly: In the unlikely event you can drag them across the threshold, yes.

Entertainment: Dartboard!, two TV's, jukebox free after 2 p.m Saturdays.        Quiz: No

Meat raffle: Hell, yeah!                  Food: None. And a piss poor selection of drinks come to that.

Outdoor seating: The park benches on The Level?

Miscellaneous: Sunday afternoon is Karaoke apparently. I'll let someone else confirm this.

OVERALL SCORE: -1/10..........OI!, Bat & Ball, NO!

Sweeeeeet!. No.12 The Barley Mow

When: Thursday, February 9th 2012
Where: The Barley Mow, 92 St.Georges Road, Brighton.
I paid: £3.30 for a pint of Arundel, 20p for 10 blackjacks.

Situated right in the heart of Kemp Town it's hard to miss the Barley Mow as it's painted in a somewhat garish pale lilac. Not that you'd want to pass it by anyway. It also used to be my local when I lived just round the corner but there's no point getting nostalgic now.......I visited on quiz night and had managed to rope in three friends to make up a team so the joy at returning to one of my favourite pubs was doubled by the fact I wouldn't be a sad, solo drinker.

The bar offers a good selection of drinks and local ales and for those not content with just wrecking their liver then there is the opportunity to start on the teeth as there is a wide variety of sweets available of the type you used to buy as a kid. Blackjacks, fruit salad, coconut snowballs and fizzy cola bottles are all there. In normal circumstances I probably wouldn't dream of eating them these days but when you're standing at the bar and see those brightly coloured boxes well.......just like a kid, really. The youth of today are also well catered for with M & M's and Haribo but these are generally frowned upon by your hardened sweeteater.

Ok, enough about the confectionery. The pub itself is small and and cramped but with a large open fire and dogs roaming freely around, it has a warm, friendly atmosphere. Unfortunately its lack of space ensures close proximity to others and tends to be a drawback on quiz night, particularly when you have a tendency to blurt out the answers and have a foghorn voice (luckily, I didn't get many right). There are no TV's but there is a small selection of battered boardgames available (Star Wars Trivial Pursuit, anyone?). A sense of community spirit is also in evidence as the pub is the sponsor of Kemp Town FC (Sussex Sunday Junior Division 5 when I checked in The Argus, not as good as the mighty Horsdean) and their upcoming fixtures are posted on the chalkboards. As well as this there is the 'Pillar of the community' next to the bar where locals can place free ads for items for sale, upcoming events etc. Food is served until late if you don't fancy gorging on blackjacks and is all cooked freshly on the premises. As well as a large weekday selection there is also a separate menu for Sunday roasts and although I didn't indulge on this occasion (it was a Thursday) I have in the past (back when it was my local, sob!) and can testify to its goodness.

We didn't win the quiz. There were accusations from a couple of team members that other teams were cheating but it might just have been that we were crap. Outside it had begun to snow heavily and the talk had turned to the unlikely but welcome possibility that we might get snowed in. I can think of a lot worse places for that to happen. Did I mention it used to be my local?

Dog friendly: Oh yes           Entertainment: Fruit machine, boardgames. Not much room for anything else.

Outdoor seating: Heated, covered patio area at rear. Dominated by the smokers, it was a bit overpowering.

Quiz: Erm, Thursday 9 P.M!      

Food: Large menu available as well as a separate Sunday one. Slightly above average prices.

OVERALL SCORE: 9.5/10......Local hero.
.

Give it a shot......No.11 The Golden Cannon

When: 3rd February 2012
Where: The Golden Cannon, 20-21 St. Georges Road, Brighton
I paid: £3.00 for a pint of Harveys

A visit to the Golden Cannon is a bit like going for a beer at your mates flat. If he had a large, scruffy lounge. A large, scruffy lounge and had invited the grandparents around. It's strictly no frills but in a way that's part of the charm. Kemp Town village where it is situated has a tendency to take itself a bit too seriously sometimes and the Golden Cannon offers a refreshing, unpretentious alternative.


Another terrible photo

It's basically one large room with a u-shaped bar along one wall serving a rather meagre selection of drinks. As it was a Friday night there was a brisk trade and the barmaid seemed to know everyone by name, which gave the place a comfortable, friendly atmosphere. Most of the furnishings and wooden flooring are scuffed and well worn but there are a couple of comfortable sofas in one corner along with some carpeting that looks like it's been there since the pub first opened (1909 apparently). A few books were available on top of a cabinet but once again it appeared that I was the only person who entertained the idea that they might actually be there to read as they were covered in a layer of dust that would put even my flat to shame (Surgery for nurses, by Dawson & Love).



There is little in the way of distractions. Just a fruit machine that went ignored just as much as the books and a barmaid attempting to sing along to Dancing Queen on the radio (some of her suggestive gyrations were a bit scary). I can't say I felt like spending my whole evening there but it's a nice enough place to stop for a quick pint. It doesn't serve food but most of the punters upon leaving made a beeline for Tuckers burger bar on the other side of the road. I decided to join them. Perfect.

Dog friendly: Yes                                  Outdoor seating: none

Entertainment: A fruit machine                Quiz: nope

Food: Tuckers, 10 yards across the road       Live music: The barmaid sings Abba on request

OVERALL SCORE: 5.5/10........cheap and cheerful.


Rock Inn all over the world. No.10 The Rock

When: February 3rd 2012
Where: The Rock Inn, 7 Rock Street, Brighton
I paid: £3.15 for a pint of Doom Bar

The Rock Inn is situated at the 'posh' end of Kemp Town just a short walk from the fancy flats of Sussex Square and Chichester Terrace. It's slightly apart from the other Kemp Town pubs (unless you count the I Go Inn, and most people don't) so it's catchment area is larger than most. Despite this though, it was quiet for a Friday evening when I paid a visit. Maybe it was the way the barmaid continued to talk to her friend at the bar and barely acknowledged me as she pulled my pint, but I didn't warm to the place straight away (which was a shame given the temperature outside).  A trivial incident perhaps, but it got my back up.

The pub has a rather cramped feel too it in the main bar, with most of it dominated by a large pillar and mirror. There is a coffee bar in one corner, which serves from 9 A.M and also sells bags off coffee to take away (if you're too lazy to go to the shops I guess). A couple of large screen TV's show all major sporting events but one is so carelessly positioned that it's visible only to a handful of tables. I have no problem with music in pubs and think it lends a certain atmosphere but here the volume was at a level that people were having to raise their voices to make themselves heard and the music was of the Smiths and Echo & The Bunnymen 'slash yer wrists' variety. (christ, I was in a bad mood).

It was only when I wandered out to the rear of the pub to escape the music that it took on a whole new dimension. There is a small 'snug' that is not visible from the main bar, with comfortable seating and a very welcome open fire as well as a handsome separate pool room that houses two pool tables (but no dartboard). Whilst looking for the toilets I inadvertently stumbled upon 'The Gallery' upstairs as well. This is a showcase for the works of local artists apparently but whether they were any good or not I couldn't say as the room was in near darkness. Any community involvement can only be a good thing though and I was suddenly inclined to look at the pub in a much more favourable light. Even the barmaid managed a "see you later mate", as I made my exit. Yeah, why not?

Dog friendly: nope         Barmaid friendly: No, she wasn't

Food: Sunday roasts and meals available bought in from The Swan Bistro apparently, no price list.

Quiz: Tuesday 8.30        Outdoor seating: Small heated patio garden and tables.

Entertainment: Two TV's, fruit machine, a very nice separate pool room.

Miscellaneous: Small coffee bar serving from 9 A.M and a large downstairs function room available for hire.

Overall score: 6.8/10......keep on Rock Inn me baby.

I was at home in bed, Your Honour. No.9 The Alibi

When: February 1st 2012
Where: The Alibi Pub, 22 Victoria Terrace, Hove
I paid: £3.00 for a pint of Harveys

The Alibi is not in the most attractive of locations. Standing on one of the busiest stretches of Kingsway, it is perched between a somewhat scruffy row of shops and a service station. Sadly, even the large suntrap beer garden at the rear of the pub is unable to provide a sea view as it is overlooked by the flats on Hove promenade. Still, at least it enables drinkers to get an idea of what the wealthy get up to in the evenings (the washing up, as far as I could see). I visited on a bitterly cold evening so the open fire was very welcome, but there wasn't that many punters in despite the 'attraction' of Bolton v Arsenal being screened on the large screen TV. The game was not being broadcast on satellite or terrestrial TV so I was unsure as to what feed they were using. Unwilling to seem like a nosy git just wandering in off the street asking questions I refrained from enquiring but as the game was being advertised heavily on boards outside the pub, if it was an illegal feed then they weren't being very covert about it.

As the King Alfred leisure centre is only a couple of hundred yards away, it is an ideal place to stop for a quick drink after a gym session or as in my case, another dismal attempt at swimming. Judging by the number of sports bags in evidence this is a popular option. Whilst most people gathered at the front of the pub for the football, I retreated to the large dining area at the rear where I was able to bag a comfortable leather settee to myself. As well as a smaller TV showing the football, there was also a tempting selection of board games. As I already cut a rather pathetic figure sitting on my own making notes however, I didn't wish to enhance the illusion by playing a game of Buckaroo. Books were also in evidence but upon closer inspection appeared to be more for decoration than actual reading (Elementary Algebra by D M Simpson might be slightly heavy going after a couple of pints).

The food menu is small but reasonably priced. The pub does special promotions throughout the week and I was particularly taken with 'Chilli night' on Mondays when you are able to get a free bowl of chilli and bread with a pint of San Miguel or bottle of Sol. There are also offers on Sunday roasts, £8.95 for one, £16 for two, etc. (that's me sorted then but if anyone wants to come with me it's £22 for three). Posters advertise the monthly comedy club and there is a fortnightly karaoke night. Indeed, unlike some pubs that just seem happy merely to exist, The Alibi takes an active interest in actually getting customers through the door. It worked on me, I liked it here. I'll be back.

Dog friendly: nope                  Food: small menu, all freshly cooked. Decent selection of drinks

Entertainment: Two TV's (neither showing The Alibi channel, thank christ), a fruit machine, board games. No jukebox, pool tables or dartboard.              Outdoor seating: Very large beer garden to rear.

Quiz: None                                       Live music: None advertised but there's karaoke!

OVERALL SCORE: 8/10........it's a fair cop.

I beg your pardon, I never promised you a Hoegaarden. No.8 The Albion Inn

When: 30 January 2012
Where: The Albion Inn, 28 Albion Hill, Brighton.
I paid: £3.50 for a pint of London Pride, innit?

The Albion Inn, Brighton. Not to be confused with The Albion Inn, Hove or indeed, The Albion Inn, Islington. Yet to visit the Hove offering but hopefully they're both better than this place. Situated halfway up Albion Hill, it's sandwiched between muesli friendly Hanover and the less salubrious tower blocks of the Ashton Rise estate. Unfortunately, I have first hand knowledge of the high-rise grubbiness because I used to work here. The only enjoyment coming from seeing how quickly I could pelt down the 12 storeys whilst delivering (the record being 4 mins 36 seconds, Thornsdale, June 2007....no misdeliveries that day then!) Oh what fun I had....

  The pub itself could probably do with a good scrub as well. There are two bars but both are sparsely furnished with a few tables and wooden flooring throughout. There are plenty of pictures adorning the walls, some are of relevant Brighton scenes but most are just a jumble that seem to have been put up to hide the faded decor more than anything. What should have been a big selling point for me is that there is a dartboard and electronic scoreboard in each bar. Indeed, if anywhere could be described as a 'darts' pub then this is it. The fixture list on the wall confirms that the pub currently has three teams playing in various Brighton leagues and a rickety trophy cabinet on the wall displays the silverware that they've won. Possibly the teams must be less than successful as the trophies bring to mind those handed out to the nerdy kid on school sports day just for turning up (I've still got mine somewhere).

For the non darts fan (God help you) there is also a bar billiards table but this has been carelessly shoved against a wall so that only a contortionist would be able to play properly. Ultimately the pub suffers from its location, it will live and die with its regulars as there are plenty of other decent drinking establishments in the immediate vicinity that all offer something more. I did briefly consider hanging around for the quiz at 9 P.M but unfortunately the barmaid chose this time to put 'Country Musics Greatest Plaintive Warbling, Volume II' on the jukebox and Hank Williams drove me out in to the cold January air.

Dog friendly: Yup                 Food: No menus in sight and I wouldn't eat in there anyway.

Outside seating: Small enclosed courtyard at the rear, mainly for smokers. Or stand outside on Albion Hill looking like a 'proper 'ard geezer' (even the women)

Entertainment: TWO dartboards!, bar billiards, fruit machine and a jukebox offering an impressive choice of songs. Probably the pubs only saving grace.

Quiz: Every Monday, 9 PM           Live Music: Rob Tate 5th February, apparently. (can't wait!)

OVERALL SCORE: Albion, Albion, Albion, Albion, Albion, Albioooooon, Albion, Albion, Albion, Albion, ALBION!! Meh......4/10

Seems to me you live your life like Piddle In The Wind. No.7 The Setting Sun

When: January 30th 2012
Where: The Setting Sun, 1 Windmill Street, Brighton
I paid: £3.30 for a pint of Piddle In the Wind

At the top of Carlton Hill on the fringes of the 'trendy' Hanover area stands The Setting Sun. As I'm the postman for the pub once a week I was hoping to scrounge a free pint but the friendly Aussie barman showed no signs of recognition and I was forced to stump up like a regular punter. I opted for a pint of the interestingly named 'Piddle In The Wind', which received a hearty endoresement from the barman. "If you like your stout mate you'll love that, it's got a great earthy taste". I just nodded and grinned, a standard reaction that's my mantra for life. Just nod and grin. If 'earthy' is another term for 'rank', then he was spot on. Maybe it's an acquired taste?

One of the big selling points of the pub are the sweeping views across the rooftops to the sea and even Worthing in the distance. Fantastic on a summers day, they are fetching even in the gathering gloom of a late January afternoon as the streetlights start to come on. There is a small enclosed patio area at the rear of the pub with seating and a comfortable extension should you wish to sit inside. The lighting is subdued with plenty of candles and the music played tends towards the dreary 'ambient' style but it's pitched at a level that is unobtrusive. With no pool table or TV's, it's perhaps not a pub for a lads night but more somewhere you'd stop for a quiet pint on the way home or maybe bring a date. (so I won't be going back in a hurry)

The food menu is extensive and competitively priced but £5.25 seems a wee bit ambitious for dessert. I was tempted by the Monday special of 'burger and a pint' for £6.50 but in the end just settled for another pint of the earthy stuff in the vain hope it would grow on me. Quiet when I arrived, the pub had started to fill up a bit and chatting to another punter whilst being served it somehow transpired that we were both in training for the marathon. This led to a challenge from the barman that neither of us could run down to the bottom of Carlton Hill and back to the pub inside 5 minutes.........Even with a pint of stout inside me I fancied my chances at this but Aussie boy then moved the goalposts to 4 minutes and the bet was off. (probably just as well as no prize had been discussed and quite apart from that I'd have looked bloody stupid). It's an idea to consider for the summer though. 'The Setting Sun challenge', with the fastest times going up on a wall of fame. Just as long as the prize isn't a pint of Piddle In The Wind eh?


Dog friendly: Nope                          Games: No pool table, dartboard, TV or jukebox. Not that kind of pub.

Outdoor seating: Patio area at rear and a couple of tables at the front     Quiz: Every 2nd Sunday

Live music: No                       Food: Large menu, freshly cooked and competitively priced.

OVERALL SCORE: 7/10 It's a view to a hill.

Where everybody knows the dogs name- No.6 The Stanley Arms

When: August 31 2011
Where: The Stanley Arms, 47 Wolseley Road, Portslade
I paid: £3 for a pint of Tribute, 80p to keep the dog quiet (mini cheddars)

Two Portslade pubs in one day then, but I was stuck dogsitting in the town and to be honest any rival distractions are pretty limited. I decided to treat Hannah the dog to a night out (I'm a nice guy) and it appeared she'd made the 200 yard journey on more than one previous occasion as from the moment we left the front door it was as if she was on a pre-programmed route. It became evident why when we entered the pub as she was greeted like an old friend by most of the regulars (I got a few polite nods) who proceeded to ply her with crisps and mini-cheddars, making a mockery of the strict diet she was on (sorry Daz!).

It's a friendly place, tucked away in a row of terraced houses in a quiet part of town. Despite this, it's commonly known as 'Portslade's best pub' which may not be the highest accolade in the world but it ensures that things are rarely quiet. The pub offers an excellent selection of real ales on tap and regularly hosts its own beer festivals. Like The Victoria, it also has a dartboard but that's pretty much where the similarities end. An interesting array of football memorabilia adorns the walls and this kept me amused whilst the regulars continued to fuss over Hannah. My original plans to just stay for 'a quick pint' were soon abandoned.

It was pub quiz night and fortified by a few pints of Tribute I decided to enter. The Stanley is split into two small bars and the quiz was only meant to be taking place in one of them but such was the demand that there ended up being an overspill of teams in both bars. This led to the somewhat flustered quiz master shuttling back and forth to do the marking and read out the questions twice (ever heard of a microphone?). A few well meaning non-participants decided to stop feeding Hannah and fed me with a few duff answers instead (Janis Joplin?!?). By the end of Round 2 it became obvious I was hopefully adrift in the scoring but I was enjoying myself too much to care. The barman then bought round individual dishes of crisps and cheese for every team (Hannah enjoyed it) which I thought was a nice touch. Unfortunately, the steady supply of snacks started to play havoc with her guts and some unpleasant smells (it wasn't me!) led to a few funny looks from other punters.....Time to go then, but I will be back.

I don't want to go home!

Dog friendly: Very                         Games: Dartboard, no pool table, 2 TV's showing Sky Sports

Food: 'A range of hot and cold food available at bar' apparently, didn't see a menu or pricelist.

Outdoor seating: Small patio area at the rear        Live music: Yup, regularly

Meat raffle: Every Sunday!          Quiz: Erm yeah, it's Wednesday nights

OVERALL SCORE: 8.5/10.........Portslade's best pub? I think so.