TIME GENTLEMEN, PLEASE…?
September 30th, 2008
When we travel in a foreign land we invariably encounter idiosyncrasies that are peculiar to that country. Local customs, in fact, may well be high on our list of reasons for going to a particular destination. In England — in fact just about anywhere in the UK — the local pub is one of those customs that few of us would ever wish to avoid.
The vision of rolling lush countrysides dotted with hundreds of thatched-roof pubs serving up a dozen varieties of English bitter in a comfy, convivial atmosphere is the result of a hundred years-worth of travel writing, assisted to a certain extent by movie imagery. Having spent my fair share of time quaffing pint after pint in various such establishments over the years, I can tell you there’s a reason why writers and filmmakers resorted to such lore… it’s largely true!
But the ideal of this grand (and dare I say delicious!) ‘jolly olde’ institution has taken more than a few hits during the past 25 years. For every pub there is a publican – the man or woman who owns and runs the house. And for every publican there is a business. And the business of running a British pub ain’t what it used to be.
In a recent issue of Country Life magazine, an editorial appeared bringing attention to the state of the pub in contemporary English country life. While any travel writer can expound on the experience of finding a fabulous beer ‘just around the corner’, we found it fascinating to read the editorial and gain a little insight into Britain’s beer business written by someone who actually lives in England.
Country Life has graciously allowed us to reprint this editorial in its entirety here at Wanderism.
So, the next time you find yourself in the Cotswolds, or the Lake District or in Suffolk, sitting in a quaint town pub downing a sleeve or two, raise your glass to the publican – they’ll appreciate it. And have one for us too.
[REW]
Time To Toast The Country Pub
When inflation bites, credit shrinks, services close and animal plagues stalk the land, there’s only one thing for country people to do: go to the pub. Except that the doors of this great village institution may have shut, along with those of the school, the post office and the police station. The British Beer and Pub Association says that pubs closed at a rate of four a day last year. We now have half the pubs we did in 1979.
Poor urban areas have been badly hit by the smoking ban and the extra tax that Alistair Darling has put on beer. But the countryside feels its pub closures as keenly as anywhere – perhaps more so. The pub is one of the few places where the community gets together, building its sense of common identity. In an age when vicars are shared between parishes, it may well be the only thing left to suggest that the village has an independent life of its own. Warmth, jokes, pint-pot philosophy, the prospect of whiling away summer hours in a beer garden, or watching cricket on the green; or of battening down the hatches against winter gales and gathering, pint in hand, around an open fire. It’s easy to romanticise the village pub, but there’s much at stake when one closes.
Pubs can offer more than just a pint and a piece of local wisdom. They have to if they’re going to survive.
Country pubs generally need more custom than that provided by just the village to keep going. Thus, the crackdown on drink-driving, however desirable in other ways, has hit them hard. And other factors have contributed to the decline. Stand up that bête noire of so much of rural life, the supermarket. Supermarkets are still selling alcohol below the price of production, in their bid to win customers, despite the Government’s concern about the effect this can have on binge drinking. Add to this the growth in home entertainment, and the result is a generation that prefers to down lager at 58p a pint [About a dollar as of this writing. - Ed.] in front of the widescreen TV rather than share the conviviality of the pub, where the same drink might cost four or five times as much.
That is to assume that the pub is the convivial place one would like it to be. It isn’t always. Like village shops, village pubs can be the authors of their own woes. Simply existing is something, but may not be enough. Pubs, like any other business, have to adapt to the challenges that face them. These include a change in customers’ expectations. Successful landlords have spotted the new trends and responded. Although we lament the numbers of pubs that are closing, not least because, in expensive areas, the premises might be turned into homes and will never then reopen, we also observe a new style of country pub, which often does very well. It serves a range of different beers, offers well-cooked local food, and if accommodation is provided, the rooms will be freshly decorated. Gone, for better or worse, will be the old-fashioned turkey carpet, capable of absorbing any manner of stains, in favour of polished floorboards and rugs; Wi-Fi may well be available.
It would be invidious to mention any by name, but when one of our number recently found himself running out of petrol on a dark Wiltshire night, The Beckford Arms at Fonthill Gifford appeared as a very oasis: heaving with customers and good cheer. There’s a new affluence in some country areas, the possibility of attracting tourists in others. It’s possible to appeal to these clienteles without excluding local trade; indeed the presence of village characters is part of the recipe for success.
When The Prince of Wales visited Cumbria last month, he was heartened to see a newly opened village shop and post office at Ravenstonedale. It’s been created out of a former bedroom in the Black Swan Hotel. The shop provides an outlet for local produce. It may not give the publican a much better profit than the bedroom would’ve done, and certainly costs him more trouble – but it provides a service and helps make the pub a village focus. This serves as a practical demonstration of the Prince’s ‘Pub as the Hub’ philosophy. Pubs can offer more than just a pint and a piece of local wisdom. They have to if they’re going to survive.
[Editorial Courtesy: Country Life Magazine - Subscription Number: 0845 676 7778]
Where can you find the best beer in the world? We want to know. We’re thirsty! Comments below.
