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From the Killingworth Castle there is a lovely and steep downhill saunter through the gorgeous Cotswold village of Wootton to a creek where the road turns west and flattens for about a quarter-mile before an even steeper climb up the other side of the stream.  It is exhausting work but a half mile farther along you will find the Duke of Marlborough beckoning.

Inside the house is lushly appointed and seems geared to the travelling diners along the highway between Chipping Norton and Oxford.  The landlord reminded me of John Oliver albeit bald, a little more conservative and not nearly so thin; he was friendly and took an interest in my route but like almost everyone I have talked to mid-run the past few years he assumed I was cycling.  He pulled an Old Hooky while I grooved on the rock-steady he had playing softly in the background…very nice.

I got the Old Hooky because I knew it was a little darker than the Hooky and I was ready for a stronger beer but on the run from the Killingworth I began to appreciate the Windrush ale I so brutally judged there–the after tastes kept building as I laboured up the hills in the fresh breezes.  They were fully in force by the time I settled into this Old Hooky and completely obliterated the flavours I was hoping for…how rude.

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There were two tables of four inside Sturdy’s Castle and another couple was sitting at a picnic table with their dog out front; there was a waitress (maybe two) and some cooks were helping out with this intolerably mad rush (that’s sarcasm, there, for you literalists) while the manager struggled to key in two jacket potatoes and two beers and the queue for drinks enlarged…I was third in line. Ten minutes on, she finally got the ticket down to something less than the £45 she initially demanded of first-in-queue for the snacks and poured the half pint for the fellow in front of me and then promptly walked away for a couple of minutes, obviously to catch her breath.

I had a few moments to admire this solid, Cotswold stone structure but only in the Lounge as I feared giving up my place at the bar.  My patience was eventually rewarded with a pint of Hooky (£3.20) that would prove to take less time to consume than to purchase and that was sharp and citric like I remembered from my last Hooky.  I took it outside to enjoy in the cool breeze and beneath a willow mapped out my path to Wootton, a few miles northwest from here.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 18th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Somewhere over the Rainbow I opened the box to inspect the wares.  The chips were, as suspected, greasy (scooped as they were from some storage area beneath the heated display case where the precooked cod rested–to be fair, this is standard for a lot of chippies and the cod looked tasty and was massive).

The meat had been sliced from a cold döner cylinder and heated on a barbecue but not to a caramelised brown rather just to the point that the fats therein started to melt.  The chilli sauce was just some bulk product.

As I passed the Folly on my way back to a bus stop on this beautiful day, the fat residues of the chips and the meat glistened in the sun, mingling but not mixing at the bottom of the takeaway box.  Yuck.

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A nice touch is the vent hose that appears to be, indiscreetly, coming from the attic

The Corridor is a pub and the landlord is fairly traditional–not so much Al Murray’s Pub Landlord, but definitely an affable fellow with a cheery disposition and a take-no-bullshit undercurrent simmering beneath his hippy/beatnik exterior…the pub landlord I would imagine myself to be (quite wrongly as I am delusional) should the happy occurrence ever come to be.

But it is also (from all superficial appearances and the overwhelming lager, cider, and shooter offerings) a youth oriented party place.  I really like this sort of place when it’s dead (like just after opening or when all the youth have left town, both of which were true this visit); unfortunately I was the only customer and you really get the best sense of the bleak nature of the neighbourhood when you get the professional drinkers in that come despite the amateurs that keep the books in the black.  I will have to try again if there’s a heat wave this summer or during the long Christmas break.

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 17th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

If you are trying to do a statistical analysis based on this year’s kebab challenge, you should note that last week’s assertion that the best kebab places are near a good music shop and across from a porn place (see above) is not necessarily the case.  Then again, maybe just noticing these things improves the perceived quality of the meal.

I first went to the Bodrum Fish Bar a year or so ago and was soundly disappointed, but this was pretty tasty despite initial appearances.  The elephant leg was a leftover and only about 6 inches in diameter; as the first customer of the day I saw it before the space heater that cooks it was turned on and was impressed and disturbed by the large, white globules of congealed fat.  The heat melted these well and the meat, which was less like minced meat than expected and in fact appeared to retain a bit of the original muscular structure, wasn’t salty or fatty once the mass was assembled.

Overall, the chilli sauce was awesome and the tomatoes fantastic and generously apportioned (I got four on the small kebab) but the lettuce was browning (crisp, but old) .  Not a kebab for the beginner, I would definitely stop here again following a Cowley Road drinking session.

There are two Bodrum’s on this block, but Bodrum is the most common kebab shop name in this country and I have had some very good and very bad kebabs at Bodrum’s past.  {Bodrum is a Turkish resort city known as Halicarnassas in ancient times, and renowned for its cuisine, ironically.}

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 16th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

This was absolutely fantastic.  I have meant to try Meli for years now but never really think about it until I am in the little recessed location for something else (there’s an awesome musical instrument shop nearly next door).  Also, it is almost always populated with the sort of pretentious yuppie pricks that keep you from enjoying a meal as you try not to argue with their ridiculous and self-serving pronouncements.

This visit, I was confronted with three such arseholes; one was writing his novel over a cup of coffee and took up all the space at one of the four-seat tables while the other two, deep in conversation about how spiritual each of them was apparently were so spiritual they needed the remaining two tables to host their otherworldly companions…bitches. I ordered a gyro to go and took it out into the light snow of this bitter and endless winter.

The hostess had apologized for only having beef today (I really wanted lamb or, better, a mixture like shoarma or döner), but the succulent chunks of stewed beef were delicious.  The veg was good, too, and the pita (which she bothered to split and fill instead of just dumping the filling on top) tasted fresh if not homemade.

The highlight was the tsasiki sauce, though, with enough garlic to creep into the sinuses and a hint of sesame on top of the thick yoghurt and dill mix I could live years with only this and bread for sustenance.  However, if you see the shop across the street (see above photo) hosing out the booths…that ain’t tsasiki.

 

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The 66 bus had to wait for a road construction imposed lane narrowing to open and the Saffron Indian was directly in front of me…with this soon to fall sign hung centered over the entrance. Over/under on the fall date is mid-June (but windy weather is due in May). Bonus points if the victim is split in half by it.

At least they had the good sense to tie the sign to the heavy metal frame (so they both go at once)…Health and Safety means EVERYTHING to these people.

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This was quite a nice find.  While hunting an early lunch from the copious collection of takeaways on the Cowley Road (none of which would be able to put a kebab or fish & chips together until noon:30) I noted the Big Society‘s doors open and followed the reggae beat inside.

A bit self-consciously hip, it is hip nonetheless and has a splendid line of beers on tap including several from Mean Time Brewing (I had the Pilsner which was floral and astringent with a citric aftertaste).  The bartender was keen on this brewery from Greenwich and gave me a rundown of what to expect from the full range (first and only customer gets all the attention).  They also do food.

Oh, the glass size is 2/3 of a pint if you are pacing yourself (or have a quota to fulfill).

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 10th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Anyone who gives a glowing review to a kebab stand is not to be trusted (the internet is full of liars, it seems).  So all the hype about Bodrum being ‘the best’ and ‘not to be missed’ was just as valid as all that penis enlargement medicine (although this guy should do the adverts).  The chips were limp and cold and the döner chewy like a rubber eraser that had been stored in a block of salt.  On the other hand, the chilli sauce was awesome and the salad (which was apparently an extra charge) looked lovely.  Maybe it is better after 6 or 8 pints…that’s an experiment I can probably arrange.

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I could never get served in the Wig and Pen when it was called Copa but spotted the name change (back to the original, I hear) while out for some lunch…great, first new pub for me in Oxford in months.  Oxfordshire Ales 6 Nations Porter was among six on the pumps and I do like a porter, me.

It was sparsely populated but steady and the upstairs (great spiral case to get there) has pretty good views out to the Theatre and Bella Italia and the general chaos of George Street.  The music wasn’t fantastic, but the servers actually paid attention to me so out with the new and end with the old, I reckon.

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Out for a little jog in the countryside I found the Five Alls near my bus stop in Filkins.  Brakspear and Hobgoblin were on offer (Brakspear, please) and I joined the crowd watching the Irish thrash the Welsh in the 6 Nations.

Filkins comes across as fairly posh if not downright wealthy and the menu looks a cut above the typical pub fair.  The building housing the pub looks ancient from without but the timbers appear to be new (although this doesn’t detract from the general atmosphere the way similar refurbs do).

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[*kpw = kebab per week for 2013, as noted in an earlier post and the 6th entry for the 2013 Challenge]

Döner meat and chips doesn’t get any better than this, or if it does then the proprietors have probably missed the point.  I have had this treat so often that on approaching Branos I have to wave off the staff in the event I want something different.  The chilli sauce is thick, garlic rich, and perfect.  The salad, when you get it, is always a meal on its own (the pickled cabbage an especially good treat).  Right next door to the Falafel House, I am impressed that they maintain peace and harmony but they each have their own specialities.

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A brief meet-up at the Bell in Faringdon turned out to be not-brief-enough as I saw my bus pull away without me.  Hungry, I headed for a kebab but the only place open didn’t have lamb döner…just chicken.  This was very disappointing, at first.

The fellows in the One Minute Food House (I’m not sure if Minute has temporal or spatial connotations) were awfully nice Turkish dudes watching a Turkish news channel on satellite tv, so I decided to eat there.  The salad looked fresh for this time of year but not nearly as pretty as in most kebab places (and yet it sang with flavour).  The chicken was very good and much lighter than lamb usually is and the chilli sauce was a thick orgasm of garlic, paprika, and fairly hot chillies.  The only down sides were the pita (a bit chewy) and the size (first truly small kebab, döner or shawarma I have ever seen).

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I still plan to do the weekly kebab for the 2013 Challenge, but I was famished on my way home (last meal was a bowl of cereal at 4:30 in the morning) and stopped by the Falafel House and, having never tried their kebabs before (the place next door is my favourite in Oxford) decided to give it a go.

While hot, the meat stayed tender and moist and the chilli sauce was rich with coriander leaf and was almost a hot salsa.  The vinegar on the chips was especially sharp and tangy, and the onions, cabbage, lettuce, and tomatoes had flecks of coriander in it as well.

The temperature out has been hovering just below freezing and the meat soon cooled, but here was another nice surprise: instead of fat congealing on the döner, it just went sort of dry and chewy like some wonderfully spiced and still fairly tender jerky.  Falafel House is now on my shortlist of Best Kebabs in Oxford.

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The newest pub on Cowley Road in Oxford, The Cowley Retreat, makes the claim it is the oldest pub on Cowley Road in Oxford but I had a run scheduled and any excuse for a new or old pub to visit is a good excuse…you might reasonably think.  It used to be the Hobgoblin (visit chronicled here) and might actually have been a pub back into the mists of time but the only words I could pry out of the bartender came when I asked when it changed names were, I think (he mumbled), something about the end of the year.  Before I could follow up, he spun on his heels and went to the back of the building to turn up the hip hop so that no one could have a conversation.  This was really not a problem as the place was empty save the two of us.

The decor is new, with a fresh coat of paint and the better end of Ikea’s pub trade line of furnishings.  There were a few decorations scattered around to make it seem posher than it actually probably is, like the suit brushes on the barometer/weather station next to the chalkboard advertising “Tai Me Up” shooters.  Too posh for me.

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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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It pissed down rain all the way back from Cassington and I entered the Swan drenched, much to the amusement of a couple of hoodlums that I watched checking out the bankroll of the guy (in the picture below) that appeared very interested in the days racing from Cheltenham, on telly.

I ordered a Landlord and an old guy that may-or-may-not be the landlord came around and pulled it then refilled his pint, downed half of it, and topped it off again before taking payment.  On returning with change, he repeated the ritual and I was left to wonder what proportion of this is OCD and how much was rampant alcoholism.

But, not for very long as another guy came in saying he just got popped by a speed camera, on his way back to the MOT place having just fitted two tires replacing bald ones that made his motor fail the MOT in the first place.  This was great, and the hoodlums enjoyed the craic at his expense: not only was he going to get the speed points and fine, it would turn up he went without a valid MOT and was speeding on bad tires (time stamps on his receipts notwithstanding, he will have some ‘splaining to do).

I thought I would snap the photo of the Swan as I left but spotted my bus hurtling toward Oxford and made the executive decision that I would steal one online (hence the Google street views stitched together, above).

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I ran to Cassington for the Red Lion but couldn’t tick it off the list as it was closed (a surprise, since it also serves as the village post office) but, what the hell, the Chequers was open.  I went in and was delighted to find a choice of Hooky and Old Hooky, opting for the former.

It is a fairly modern building although the Chequers has been an inn here for centuries.  This house was rebuilt by Young’s as a thoroughly modern hotel but apparently Young’s has sold the freehold and the bar is now licensed as a freehouse.  There was a lot of activity in the kitchen although I was the sole punter at this time;  the rooms are large and can seat a horde, so there must have been something on later.

The beer was good, but it was dear and the place doesn’t strike me as a ‘pubby pub,’ more of a restaurant with a bar and a hotel attached.  None of the old touches seem genuine although they may easily have been harvested from the remains of an older building.  I wanted to like it but felt relief to be back in the wind, rain and cold on the run back to Eynsham.