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So, four years now (or, rather, next week it will be…here’s the annual reports for years Three, Two, and One for historical perspective).

We just received our new visas valid until 2016 but plan to take the next step toward citizenship in a year, Indefinite Leave to Remain…sort of the British Green Card.  There is an exam, first, but in general it is all downhill from here.

The view from Western Street near the new house…also all downhill

Additionally, we are in the process of moving house (which is why I rushed the annual report a week forward) from just north of the Oasis over to Old Town to a house situated close walks to either the Beehive or the Castle or the Globe (recently reopened!)—three locals instead of one and all three of high quality—and dozens of others a short walk. The new house has three bedrooms each larger than its counterpart in the old house, the two receptions are larger and made into more of an open-plan configuration, the bath is larger and has a tub (not just a shower), and there is a finished basement; on the down side, the kitchen is a little narrower and more primitive as is the small garden but everything we do and everywhere we normally go in Swindon (save for the butcher) is so close.

The only races I did this past year were the London Marathon (5 pubs plus a can of Carling on the last mile) and the Beerathon (5 miles with a pint and a hefty food item between each) and the mileage run for the year suffered from this lack of focus—1950 give or take about 25 (most estimates pretty good using gmap-pedometer), while the last several years (except for the year of the wreck) were in the 2200-2500 range.

On the runs, I visited  255 new pubs with a stunning 67 new ones (steep part of the graph) in September when I took two weeks off work and ran at least 10 miles per day in new territory each day. The 1000th wasn’t as big a thrill as I thought it would be, but I saw some really nice places and met some really fine folk. The September holiday found me visiting Gloucester, South Wales, Slough (exotic, I know) and Exeter along with some nearer-to-Swindon trips. The 100 Yellow Beer Challenge was responsible for a lot of second visits to pubs I might not otherwise have gone to after an initial stop and many of these seemed better the second time around. Oh, and my Workingman’s Club appears to have failed or at least hasn’t been open the last several times I’ve popped by (I have a grand one scoped out for the new neighbourhood, though).

Best pubs in Year Four (reverse order by First Visit write-up):
The Southgate Inn, Devizes
Byron’s, Swindon
The Hop Inn, Swindon
Dicey Reilly’s, Teignmouth
The Brass Monkey, Teignmouth
One Eyed Jack’s, Gloucester
Ye Olde Red Lion, Tredegar
The Rose of Denmark, Woolwich
The Volunteer Rifleman’s Arms
The Green Dragon, Marlborough
The British Lion, Devizes
The Blue Boar, Alsbourne (for the Dr. Who connections)

Favourite write-ups:
Postboxes
British Citizenship Exam Prep
Risk Assessment-Bins
Oxford Tourists
Assize Court, Bristol

Cock Flavour
Paul Simon in Hyde Park
Edie’s Lawn
The hunt
The Bremen Musicians (German children’s story)
Sex Tourism in Wiltshire
Modern Algebra for Omid
Burns’ Day Lunch

There are others search for ‘made me laugh.’  The blog may or may not have made some of the over 100,000 visitors laugh, but the damn fools keep checking in (that’s you, that is).

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The previous post was better, but I wanted to showcase the screensavers pieced together by Squeezin’ (with my gratitude for these).  The pics, in order, are

Venue	Where	beer #
The Princess Hotel (done around 5 am New Year’s Day)	Swindon	1
The Bank House	Cheltenham	2
At the New Year’s Races in Cheltenham (watching my nag drag in)	Cheltenham	3
Midlands Hotel	Cheltenham	4
The Queen’s Tap	Swindon	5
The Four Candles	Oxford	6
The Turf Tavern (at the sign commemorating Clinton failing to inhale there)	Oxford	7
The White Horse	Oxford	8
O’Neill’s	Oxford	9
Ellington’s	Swindon	10
The Red Lion	Oxford	11
The Gloucester Arms	Oxford	12
Eurobar	Oxford	13
The Volunteer	Faringdon	14
The Red Lion	Faringdon	15
The Bell	Faringdon	16
The Lamb and Flag	Oxford	17
The Bird and Baby	Oxford	18
Far  The Madding Crowd	Oxford	19
Southbrook Inn	Swindon	20
The White Hart	Wolvercote, Oxfordshire	21
The Red Lion	Wolvercote, Oxfordshire	22
The Plough	Oxford	23
The Gardener’s Arms	Oxford	24
The Rose and Crown	Oxford	25
TP’s	Swindon	26
The De’s Cut	Oxford	27
The King and Queen	Longcot, Oxfordshire	28
The Woodman Inn	Fernham, Oxfordshire	29
The Eagle	Little Cocks Swell, Oxfordshire	30
The Wheatsheaf	Faringdon, Oxfordshire	31
Faringdon Folly	Faringdon, Oxfordshire	32
Salisbury Cathedral	Salisbury	33
The King’s Arms	Salisbury	34
The Old Castle Pub	Salisbury	35
The keep at Old Sarum	Salisbury	36
Wheatsheaf	Lower Woodford, Wiltshire	37
Bridge Inn	Upper Woodford, Wiltshire	38
Black Horse	Great Durnford, Wiltshire	39
Wilsford Cum Lake sign (heh, heh)	Wiltshire	40
Stonehenge (really a great disappointment)	Wiltshire	41
King’s Arms	Amesbury, Wiltshire	42
George Hotel	Amesbury, Wiltshire	43
New Inn	Amesbury, Wiltshire	44
The Greyhound	Amesbury, Wiltshire	45
Royal Oak	Oxford	46
The Red Lion	Marston, Oxfordshire	47
The Angel and Greyhound	Oxford	48
The University Club	Oxford	49
The GW Hotel	Swindon	50
Jude the Obscure	Oxford	51
The Victoria	Oxford	52
The Rickety Press	Oxford	53
Wahoo Sport Bar	Oxford	54
The Oxford Retreat	Oxford	55
The Grapes	Oxford	56
The Rolleston	Swindon	57
The Baker’s Arms	Swindon	58
The Dolphin	Swindon	59
Marsh Farm Hotel	Royal Wootton Bassett	60
The Cross Keys	Royal Wootton Bassett	61
The Old School	Oxford	62
The King’s Arms	Oxford	63
The Swan and Castle	Oxford	64
The Victoria Arms	Marston, Oxfordshire	65
The Black Swan	Abingdon, Oxfordshire	66
The Blue Boar	Abingdon, Oxfordshire	67
The Bowyer Arms	Radley, Oxfordshire	68
Zen Bar	Swindon	69
Sir Daniel Arms	Swindon	70
White Hart	Lyneham, Wiltshire	71
Sodom	Wiltshire	72
The Angel	Royal Wootton Bassett, Wiltshire	73
Cape of Good Hope	Oxford	74
Rudi’s	Swindon	75
Burn’s Day Lunch (Haggis, Neeps, Tatties, Whisky, and 2 beers)	Oxford	76
Swindon Wildcats 3, Sheffield Steeldogs 4 (SO)	Swindon	77
The Longwall	Oxford	78
The Royal George	Purton, Wiltshire	79
Riff’s Bar	Greatfield, Wiltshire	80
Magic Roundabout	Swindon	81
The Three Tuns	Wroughton	82
The Havana	Swindon	83
The Lydiard	Swindon	84
The Savoy	Swindon	85
The Brewer’s Arms	Cirencester	86
The White Horse	Woolstone	87
The College Farm	Watchfield	88
The Horse and Jockey	Ashton Keynes, Gloucestershire	89
The Vale Hotel	Cricklade	90
Goldfinger Tavern	Highworth, Wiltshire	91
The Red Lion	Northmoor, Oxfordshire	92
The Bell Inn	Standlake, Oxfordshire	93
The Maybush	Newbridge, Oxfordshire	94
The Beehive (this is about 100 yards from the house we are moving to)	Swindon	95
Baker Street	Swindon	96
Steam Railway Company Pub	Swindon	97
The Pig on the Hill	Swindon	98
Long’s Bar	Swindon	99
near Parliament, with a Cuban cigar and a bunch of dirty looks (and after 5 pub stops)	London Marathon	100
The Bear	Oxford	101
The Old Tom	Oxford	102
The Crown	Oxford	103
The Beehive	Carterton, Oxfordshire	104
The Crown Inn	Faringdon, Oxfordshire	105
Romany Inn	Bampton, Oxfordshire	106
Talbot Hotel	Bampton, Oxfordshire	107
The George Inn	Sandy Lane, Wiltshire	108
The White Hart	Calne, Wiltshire	109
The now defunct King George	Calne, Wiltshire	110
Barrington Arms	Shrivenham, Oxfordshire	111
Groves Company Inn	Swindon	112
Revolution	Swindon	113
The Plough	Sutton Courtenay, Oxfordshire	114
The George and Dragon	Sutton Courtenay, Oxfordshire	115
The Fish	Sutton Courtenay, Oxfordshire	116
Great Western Railway Staff Association	Didcot, Oxfordshire	117
The Prince of Wales	Didcot, Oxfordshire	118
Tap and Barrel (good read goes along with this pic)	Swindon	119
Old Town Festival	Swindon Town Gardens	120
Cock Inn	Combe, Oxfordshire	121
Three Horseshoes	Long Hanborough, Oxfordshire	122
Swindon Pride 2012	Swindon (duh)	123
Wernham Hogg’s	Slough, Berkshire	124
The Myrtle Grove	Risca, Gwent, Wales	125
The Sirhowy	Blackwood, Gwent, Wales	126
Railway Tavern	Sirhowy, Blaenau Gwent, Wales	127
The Castle	Bryn Serth, Blaenau Gwent, Wales	128
The Coach and Horses	Ashvale, Blaenau Gwent, Wales	129
Ye Olde Red Lion Hotel	Tredegar, Blaenau Gwent, Wales	130
The Tumble Inn	Pontypridd, Wales	131
The Maltster’s Arms	Pontypridd, Wales	132
Wyvern Theatre	Swindon	133
Byron’s Bar	Swindon	134
The Bear Hotel	Wantage, Oxfordshire	135
Source ot the River Thames	Kemble, Gloucestershire	136
Carpenter’s Arms	Lacock, Wiltshire	137
Mill House	Chippenham, Wiltshire	138
Sunny’s Pool Bar	Swindon	139
The Royal Oak	Marlborough, Wiltshire	140
The Lamb Inn	Marlborough, Wiltshire	141
The Crown	Marlborough, Wiltshire	142
IMS/TOF Mass Spectrometer	Oxford University	143
New Year’s Eve on Ferndale Road	Swindon	144

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Lilienthal Library

There’s not much you might consider remarkable about the September running streak, really, except that I managed to remain clothed in public the entire time (ie, only a streak in that there was an unbroken string).  I ran every day of September and (until I got the flu last week) I covered a minimum of 10 miles every day.  A semi-statistical breakdown of these follows, and there are a few photos that didn’t make it into other posts last month (maybe just a shot or two from Germany, who knows).  The total, 330 miles, is the most I’ve done in a month since my mid-30′s when, tripping and stoned almost continuously, I barely felt the effort (doing it piss drunk is quite a bit more difficult even before factoring in the extra 15 years or so of decrepitude).

Total: 330.2 miles
Swindon: 86.0 miles (10 runs)
other Wiltshire: 103.7 (8½ runs–crossed from Glocs)
Oxford: 40.0 (4 runs)
Gloucestershire: 18.4 (1½ runs–crossed to Wilts)
Devon: 21.5 (1 run)
Berkshire: 15.0 (1 run)
Wales: 23.3 (2 runs)
Germany: 22.3 (2 runs)

Had a trip to Germany for work toward the end of the month and with that and the change of seasons did both of my runs there in the pre-dawn darkness; a shame, really, as both areas (Hamburg near the airport and Borgfeld/Lilienthal near Bremen) looked very nice for this kind of excursion.  In Borgfeld, I stayed in a rental room across from this restaurant/microbrewery (the beers were fantastic):

…and the breakfast suited the post-workout refuel although within hours I was crippled with nausea, fever, a mid-range migraine, and a free-flowing waste-relief valve.  This continued the next several days, but once home I felt I could try for another — if shorter — run but only managed a mile before turning around and heading back to bed.  Yikes.

Big houses, safe streets, and loads of farm roads and wildlife preserves await you in Lilienthal and Borgfeld, if you go:

September 2012 was also the busiest month for pub visits (67  included the 1000th) since I landed in England, largely due to the unsupervised nature of my vacation (Jackie left me to my own devices for two weeks and, surprisingly, there were no legal or medical catastrophes).  I stopped including ‘dead pubs’ quite a few months ago unless they are of significant importance or beauty (and, for those, I will still follow the original set of rules); had this not been the case, I could easily have boosted the count by another 20-30.

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I hate to end a run with a dead-pub memorial (see the rules, here) but the landlady at the White Hart says the King George is being converted to a pizza place.  Calne is not saturated with pubs and this beautiful old house of Cotswold stone shouldn’t have seen the last of its good days and memorable evenings.  RIP.

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I have been here to the Maybush three times and at each just missed the brief period it has been open for business on a regular basis.  The word at the Black Horse and the Bell (earlier on this run) is that no one can make a go of it because of the flooding of the Thames but the Rose Revived across the was does just fine.  There must be something more as both of these pubs have histories going back centuries.  Fortunately, I brought a can of beverage along just in case and hope that the Maybush may revive soon, as well.

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At the corner of Pavenhil and Dogridge I finally found the Royal George in the midst of my Sunday run but was really disappointed to find that the place appears to, once again, have gone out of business (like the woman at the Angel suggested on my Thanksgiving Day run last year).  A pity.

I ran back into the village and bought a Carling to rack up another 100/100 tick and to properly salute this old Lazurus, hoping it will, once more, return to us.

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I woke up this morning and I got myself a beer.  No shit, but for a good cause.  The nearest place to my house I would consider either interesting or a licensed purveyor of alcoholic beverages happens to be both: The Princess has been derelict for a couple of years but recently refurbishment commenced and it will reopen soon.  Having missed the last of the Carling on tap last night at the club and with it being 6am here and nowhere else to go, I decided to invoke the defunct pub rule…but I will be back the day they reopen to give a proper review.  Hurry along, Princess.

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I needed to pick up my race credentials at the Croft Sport Centre so I hopped off before the Magic Roundabout, stopped by the Aldi for a bottle of that fine Clarkes bourbon (change back from a tenner!), and ran the hill into Old Town with the intention of stopping in the Royal Oak which I have never seen open but which I have been assured has a beautiful interior and opens promptly at 6 except when they open at 7 or so.

The bar was darkened and the curtains seemed not to have moved in the month since I last tried to visit.  Shit.  It was a bit cool and very windy and the sunset was gorgeous so I sat on the front step and cracked open the whiskey while checking my directions to the Sport Centre.  The details on the exterior of the pub were as impressive as I have been told the interior is, with fine ceramic work I am surprised has escaped vandalism.

Upon my return home, I checked around the net and found the website has not been updated since April, there was a tribute act playing there in September, and currently the pub company is looking for a tenant (at very competitive prices so maybe it won’t stay closed forever).

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When I packed for the run I loaded my flask with bourbon in the event that one of the pubs on my loop were, sadly, shuttered.  This didn’t happen, happily, but upon leaving the third one of the day I was incapable of reading my map and missed a cross-road that would have foreshortened the journey.  Instead, I veered off to Liddington before turning back downhill toward the Great Western Hospital.  On my left through the mist the Sun appeared…the Sun Inn, that is.

I don’t think it has been closed long, but it has become decrepit in that period.  There are nice views out the back, where I huddled with my flask for the obligatory salute.  You look out toward the hills to the south and completely miss the motorway down in the hole, although you can hear it.  Too far from a junction, this country inn probably just didn’t get enough traffic to survive.  RIP.

bourbon for this very sadly demised house

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What a great disappointment: beautiful day for a run, did some hills, found some paths I haven’t been on before and worked my way over to the Shelley Arms only to find the doors shuttered with corrugated sheet metal. Shit.  AND: the shop next door was halal and probably (didn’t bother to check) doesn’t carry tins of beer so I was even going to write off this one under the “out-of-business” rule.  But, after running off and finding the Exeter Hall up Cowley Road I got a tip-off on where an off license is nearby, so was able to double back by.  The vegetation says no one has been taking care of it for a while, but the “what’s on” signage still looks fresh after the rain last week…still, R.I.P.

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The Beaufort Arms isn’t just closed, it is burned to the ground although in Google Street View it still exists.  I was out for an early morning run and carried a beer because I expected to run past at least one closed pub in 15 miles in the countryside…and was surprised to get one half a mile from the bus stop.  Oh, well, it looks like it was a great place. R.I.P.

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We had a nice evening out Saturday despite the Wildcats ignominious loss to Guildford Flames.  Next morning we were moving kind of slow and I eventually made it out at noon to pick up some groceries and stop by the library.

Earlier in the year I stopped by the Duke of Wellington, a fantastic looking old building but the doors will still shut and the curtains drawn.  This time I figured it MUST be open, but lo, as I topped the hill I saw that the windows were now shuttered…shit.

I managed to pick up a Carling at an off-license down the street but some coppers were hanging around when I got back for the obligatory funeral toast.  Shit again.  Exploring the neighbourhood, I did find this little gem (my tomato growing days are over, but it always makes me happy to see a business like this thriving):

The coppers cleared off by the time I got back and I took a seat on the front of the building. R.I.P.

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I was on a mission to drink at nothing but Red Lions today and so it was with a heavy heart only 3 miles away from my start that I spotted the metal shutters on the windows of the Red Lion in Middleton Cheney.

The Dolphin was open just down the street, but I was determined and invoked the “out of business pub” rule and went and retrieved a Fosters from the grocery store across the street.  Yack! Warmer than a nice cup of tea; oh well, it was pretty cold outside, anyway.

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The Castle still had the pub markings on it when I first visited Olney a few months ago, but I caught wind that it was going to be converted into a curry house soon.  Scaffolding was up and the place was gutted, so I planned to toast it at the end of my run today.  Having just left the Cock, doing the same for that venerable and much older (and much less recently closed) pub I could still taste the earlier Carling as this one went down.  Shame when this sort of thing happens in a town as large as Olney, but the desire for a curry seems to exceed the need for a good meeting place.  R.I.P.

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Running from Clifton Reynes into Olney and passing the cemetery and then following Silver End I spotted the nearly unreadable sign of the Cock Inn.  It had been awhile since I toasted such an old, deceased pub and quickly set out to find a couple of beers (as I was on my way to do this also for the Castle before it opens as a curry house in the near future).  Leaning against the wall, legs scraped up and bleeding and otherwise pink from nettles, drinking a can of Carling…an incongruous sight in this prosperous town. R.I.P.

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I was out for a run to pick up another stamp on the Brakspear Ale Trail map, but the Crooked Pot was closed, again, during their posted business hours.  On the run back into town, I tried an old neighbourhood I hadn’t visited before and (on a hunch) stopped by a grocer and got a can of Boddington’s in case there was a defunct pub along the way.  Just slightly out of a park and down Marlborough Road I found the Marlborough House and enjoyed my treat on it’s wall.  A surveyor was there and said that it had been closed since 2008…R.I.P.

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My first visit to the Fox and Hounds was to get a ride to a hash but I have meant to drop by with a can (Fosters was what I was able to get cold) and add it to the pub crawl list.  This is a fantastic house, but probably too large to sustain itself in this neighbourhood and in this economy.  Rest in peace.

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We were in Aylesbury for a bit of a shopping trip when I spotted this crime against the pub industry and, indeed, against humanity…The Oddfellow’s Arms is no longer a pub but a Dominos Pizza.  A cold can of Carling seemed the only correct salute to this Grade 2 listed building on such an otherwise nice day out, but it did little to ease the pain. At least most dead pubs are allowed to rest in peace, but this poor wretch is infested by a fast food chain. Tsk.

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Phot from web...I didn't want to be seen photographing this shithole

The Jericho Tavern is deader than deck shoes.  This sort of thing happens to neighbourhoods all the time, and aparently it can happen to a pub as well.  Hip folks, punks, musicians, gays, artists, other marginalised groups move into a shitty venue (such as the Jericho once was, or Midtown/Virginia Highlands/Little 5 Points neighbourhoods in Atlanta, or the Central West End in St Louis) and make it something special, palatable, and most importantly to the yuppie scum that subsequently invade: profitable.  The rough edges are polished and the place is no longer too dangerous to frighten away the finely dressed and expensively coiffed, then the prices rise and the staff (in this case, waiters…fucking WAITERS) start copping attitudes.  Soon, the people that made it what the press releases claim that it still is are neither welcome nor likely to ever return except to mourn their loss.

The only thing missing on my visit to the Jericho was a real velvet rope, but the virtual barrier was there as the first waitress looked my way, rolled his eyes and said, “I’ll be with you in awhile.” The second waitress, a short dumpy woman, walked past me several times then immediately took a couple of guy’s order as soon as they walked in.  I asked the one nearest me if he’d mind ordering me a pint since I had been waiting five minutes before they hit the door, and he looked at me like I had shit in his hat (and if he had a hat with him I might have considered it).  The waitron made no indication that I could finally get refreshment, so I left with fresh legs and continued my run south into the city.

A well known music venue in the past, it is not really the kind of place to expect challenging entertainment (or competent service) any longer.  On my way back from downtown, I grabbed a can of Fosters and enjoyed it on the front threshhold…I am treating this place as if it is out of business (see the rule for out of business pubs).

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The weather was perfect and I slipped out for a lunchtime run, stopping to pick up a can of Carling in Summertown before heading over to Woodstock Road.  I had spotted the Woodstock Arms months before and as I haven’t saluted any dead pubs for awhile thought this would be a good one.

The cold Carling wasn’t too shook up and the building inspector’s only complaint was that I only brought one can.  What a civilised country. The builder wouldn’t tell me what plans there were for the building which is fair enough, but I do hope that it once again becomes a pub.

I found some dead ends as the run continued and none deader than the Cooperative Funeral services (death seems to be a theme on this trip).  I had originally thought it odd to see a Cooperative Bank (financial services) because I had long since become a fan of the Cooperative grocery stores.  I was aware of the Cooperative used car lots, but this was taking things a bit too far.