Lost landmarks – a Brewer’s droop

It seems that every couple of months the press take it upon themselves to mount a campaign to publicise the delights of real ale. Not that many journalists have ever needed an excuse to research the odd tipple or two.

Many articles have been written covering the resurgence of the micro brewery industry while an equal number chart the demise of the local pub, 4 of which are closing every day and have been doing so do for several years.

It was almost an unwritten rule amongst my friends in the 70s that at least one evening per week be dedicated to seeking out a real ale pub we have not previously visited. Living in South London, as most of us did, and with judicial concern given to a driving roster, this gave us plenty of scope to explore the delights of the Kent, Surrey and Sussex countryside as well as some of the quieter London hamlets. I sometimes find myself wondering how many of these watering holes still exist.

Upon reflection it is amazing just how important the British pub has been, not simply as a means of entertainment and relaxation but as a landmark. Whenever I have needed to ask anyone directions invariably a pub would appear as a reference point somewhere in the response. If my grandmother was asked how to get from Keston to Lewisham she would direct you according to the pubs you would pass, yet she never crossed the portals of any of them in her life.

When living in London driving around town was a requirement made slightly less daunting thanks to the local radio traffic reports from the ‘flying eye’. How many of the locations that cropped up frequently on their reports referenced a public house. Anyone who used the A20 or A2 on a regular basis would cringe at the mention of ‘The Dutch House’, ‘The Dover Patrol’, ‘The Sun in the Sands roundabout’, ‘The Yorkshire Grey’ or ‘The Black Prince roundabout’. Most of these hostelries have long since gone though many of these key locations are still referred to by their original names.

Travelling by bus I recall many of the conductors shouting the names of the pub stops with added gusto. Look at any bus route and see how many of the stops are outside local pubs. ‘The Crooked Billet’, ‘The Swan and Mitre’, ‘The Greyhound’, ‘The Garden Gate’, ‘The Green Man’, ‘The Downham Tavern’ - as a schoolkid I used to believe it was because these were where the ‘clippies’ used to jump off for a quick pick-me-up. Driving through Bellingham must have been hell for them because, as I learned later in life, there are no pubs in the area – not sure whether it was due to an oversite by the town planners or some ancient bylaw prohibiting the sale of alcohol in the neighbourhood. Thirsty workers at the Catford Bus Garage or the Robertson’s Jam Factory (later the Franklin Mint) needed to travel to Catford or Downham for their pint of grog.

I recently asked someone for directions to a street I had never heard of. The helpful response I was given was that it was first left past a certain pub, which was useful since I knew where the pub was even though it was turned into a DIY store nearly 15 years ago. There must be some logical explanation why I wasn’t instructed to take the first left past the DIY store. Clearly the image of the old pub was embedded in the psyche of the helpful individual but he did not know that I was familiar with the area so could understand his instructions. Had I been from out of town I could have been miles away and none the wiser for his help.

The thought has crossed my mind that if pubs continue to close at the rate that they have been what will we use as reference points in the future? Shops come and go with increasing frequency and you can’t really use the likes of McDonalds or Costa Coffee as landmarks because they all look the same and chances are that there are at least 2 of them within spitting distance of each other.

Post offices, churches and banks are disappearing almost as quickly as pubs so these possibilities are equally unsuitable as landmarks. Parks are being sold off for development and war memorials are being relocated.

The increasing use of SatNav may have reduced the need for people to seek directions from strangers but GPS coordinates are not landmarks and we don’t all walk around with SatNav or wifi enabled phones.

There were no postcodes when I was growing up, nowadays it seems you can’t go anywhere unless you know the postcode of your destination. If I needed to get from one place to another I would plan my route based on the towns I would be travelling through. Increasingly I find that the younger generation think in terms of taking the A123, the A45, the M67 just to get to the same destination, something I find not only baffling but rather sad. As Patrick McGoohan (Number Six) would say “I am not a number, I am a free man”.

Pubs are not simply landmarks but a part of our cultural heritage, they are locations that the local community can relate to even if they choose not to frequent them. They are part of our history, iconic places that give an area its unique identity and character. With so many of these landmarks disappearing we are not only losing part of our history we too are increasingly likely to be lost in years to come.