Hop Inn, Swindon   12 comments

The newest pub in Swindon is the Hop Inn, occupying a former sex shop in Old Town.  The comments section to an article about the pub in the Swindon Advertiser included a number of alternate names for the bar including “The Dog and *uck,” “The Black Knobbler,” “The Brown Paper Bag,” “The Privates’ Hop,” and my favourite “The Onanist’s Arm.”

Always trust a bar with bar animals

The Hop Inn [Onanist’s] was really jumping in at the deep end since there are so many fine pubs in Old Town, and the building is truly an old storefront and not precisely what you might think of as a traditional pub; don’t be deterred from going in, though–it is quite a wonder with five good and quite interesting ales on, ‘fizzy’ beers of rare varieties and Pheasant Plucker cider which I am very fond of.  I had an Inntrigue from Plain Ales which was dark and mild in the mouth and left a very pleasant bitter/cigar-like aftertaste.

Clicking photo takes you to the location on the old pub map but the newer map, linked at upper left column, is a bit nicer to browse

Rambling thoughts on the adult industry: I don’t know if you’d exactly call it nostalgia I felt there in the Hop Inn, but the location takes me back to late 1985.  At the time, I owed a scary amount of money to some very scary people but possessed a white, middle-class face and demeanour (should a visit to court become necessary) and a Union Card as a Projectionist.  These details prompted them to “let” me work off my debt in seven 16 hour shifts per week for six months, editing and exhibiting 35mm porno in what I can only imagine was a money laundering operation.  The vagaries of DeKalb County vice legislation prohibited any depiction of penetration and Georgia law (and I think one of these hoodlum’s traditional Viet Namese mothers) would not allow undeniable depictions of “sodomy,”  so I had to cut out multitudinous strips anywhere from ten frames to 20 feet  from each film before exhibition then return these bits to the reels before returning to the distributors.  I lived in an adjacent projection booth where the other cinema had suffered a fire (purely accidental, I was assured).

None of this has anything to do with this pub, except it was once a wank shop.

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