Wednesday 20 July 2011

Six Ways kill a Village Pub: Or the Murder of The Old Albion

I was brought up in a pub, I have served in a pub and have changed the occasional old wooden barrel. The first time I struck that brass tap with a wooden mallet I hoped that disaster would not also strike. The thought of a barrel of best bitter flooding the cellar did not bare thinking about. Although my pub life came to end shortly before my 19th birthday I had enough experience of customers to learn quite a bit about ordinary people, both the wicked, sad, reliable and occasionally heroic.

Our pub was a town centre house, killed off by the sudden obsession with television and property prices. But it had at its centre a loyal and interesting mix of customers and a house tradition of being run simply, but well. Keg beers? What were they? My father had taken over the pub from my maternal grandfather who had been running pubs since he retired from the army before the First War. My mother and her four sisters had been helping their father run the pun. In my mother’s case since she was 14. He had risen from a raw recruit to be the RSM for the Royal West Kent Regiment. He had quite a reputation as a local character having fort in the Boar War as a first generation Dutch immigrant to Essex, been mentioned in dispatches and had led the force that ended a riot at the local prison. His customers knew he would brook no nonsense. Despite his reputation in the town, all these pub girls took a while to find husbands suitable from the RSM’s viewpoint. Unfortunately some suitors would have been discouraged from marrying a publican’s daughter. One of my aunts had to wait some 15 years before her boy friend’s father died, such was his opposition to the marriage. I had no idea of this prejudice growing up in the 1950’s and have only recently come learn of the stigma attached to my family's trade.

With my background I have always thought, until recently, that I was perfectly qualified to baldy state that if you take me to a ‘bad’ or ‘dying pub’, I will be able to introduce you to a bad landlord. I say until recently because rather a lot of things have changed so that various exceptions have to be noted, but outside of these exceptions I still think I know why many village pubs across the country are now dying or being killed, sometimes with malice aforethought. A common cause for closure in some urban areas is that there are too many pubs for the potential customers. Re-housing has left many pubs with a smaller market nut this not so common in a rural community, unless the second home level is so high, the winter brings too many dark properties. I must add that in my own county there are many excellent village pubs who serve as examples of how it should be done, even though trading conditions are continually being made worse by the decisions of Government and the recession. Suffice it to say, if I make a return visit to a pub it is usually because I like it, unless of course it is so bad I have to see it again to believe it.

The accessory before the fact for ‘pubicide’ is Government. High alcohol duties and the smoking ban have made a tough situation worse. Smokers have to be outside which means that non-smokers have to go inside to avoid smoke and they in turn often lose the pleasures of drinking outside. When I was a kid a pub with a Children’s Room was a great change to sitting outside by myself with a lemonade and a packet of crisps. Now, once they have tired of any ‘Jungle Room’ facility children join their parents in the restaurant area and run amuck. I haven’t seen a children room for years. Why couldn’t a Smokers Room have been developed so that drinks were bought into a well ventilated separate bar area by the smokers themselves? ‘Smoking damages your health’, I hear you say. So does drinking, so why not close the pub in that case?
Publicans have had to put up with the high alcohol duty as unlike the supermarkets they have little room to sell lost leaders. Combine this with the higher costs of the multinational drinks industry, often advertising third rate beverages, and a whole raft of overheads for the publican, is it little wonder that margins are narrow? However, these are the main causes of death which will often be found at the pub’s post mortem:

1) Not understanding the word ‘hospitality’: I am now going to be accused of being as snob, mainly the people taking on a pub have no idea of what the term ‘hospitality’ means. Is there a question that brewers put to tenants along the lines, ‘Do you like people?’ If so it would seem that the qualifying answer is, ‘No’. Did Basil Faulty open a charm school for prospective landlords I wonder? There don’t seem to be ‘the right sort’ new landlords about nowadays. Some of them seem to have no idea what they are up to.

2) Serving rubbish or pretentious food: both inappropriately priced. Serving fry ups and grill ups straight from the freezer might well be a speciality of the Basil Faulty School of Catering if there were one. Luckily the standard of pub catering is usually very good, although I draw the line at pretentious menus with yuppy age central London prices. Somewhere between these two, most catering landlords, and of course landladies have struck a happy balance between cost and quality, often making sure that much of the menu is locally sourced. There is nothing wrong with good honest pub grub. Get rid of that and another nail goes in the pub’s coffin.

3) Not selling local real ales and cider: why do some publicans think they are running a milk bar or soda bar with only nitrogen infused fizzy pop bears or just bottled beer? I do that at home with a bottle opener or a can with a widget device built in. What I don’t want to do is install a hand pump in my living room and a micro brewery in my non-existent cellar. Furthermore if I want to drink Norfolk, Suffolk or Somerset Ciders in Herefordshire I’ll take the trouble of trying the bottled versions from the supermarket or make a trip to try the real stuff on its home territory. So called ‘locals pubs’ that serve a range of fizzy drinks from away are missing the point, and as for local produce, forget.

4) Not opening regularly: opening just at the weekend or from Thursday to Sunday seems to be lazy and not caring about the community. These limited opening times are the first sign of a loss of will on the part of the landlord. If opening the premises becomes a matter of the landlord’s convenience, but they still survive, they have again missed the point. They are supposed to be running a village pub not a minimalist investment company or a retirement cottage.

5) Making sure that the local community is not welcome: failing to have quizzes, providing a meeting place for local groups or a folk session once a month and not encouraging local customers through special promotions. Little things like not displaying posters for local events is a guaranteed sign of not being part of the community. Some pubs seem to think that the high value customers in the tourist season will do. This might well serve the proprietors long term plans for the building but the concept of the village pub has already being put to death by such proprietors. Which brings me to my final method of killing a village pub.

6) Not wanting to run the property as a pub at all: planning to apply for a change of use either to a private residence or for building development is the most common ulterior motive for the deliberate running down of a business. There are extreme cases of landlords turning away customers or regular folk singers so as to prepare poor accounts in readiness for the planning application. In one case, having lost a planning appeal for a housing development, the landlord actually demolished the building and the last time I saw the site it had been fenced off for nearly two years. If in the future there is any opportunity left to object to such a change of use, the claim that the business was not viable should be met with evidence to show that it was the landlord who was not viable, being a person unsuited to run a village pub because they wanted to convert it. A private house is worth so much more. In such cases I would say, ‘Show me a bad pub and will show you a deliberately bad landlord’.

‘Herein lies the plot of the Old Albion’ RIP

Monday 18 July 2011

FolkWorkshops Newsletter

Dear FolkWorkshops Supporter,

A great deal of things seem to be going on. A quick look at Broad Sheep says it all. Supporters are gradually increasing on this e-mail list and so by the time the dark winter evenings arrive there should be a few more of us. Our Twitter followers are also steadily increasing but, ironically, not from among our own supporters. Since there seems to be a lot of people out there who are interested in what we do we shall continue to run the account as well as the FolkWorkshops tag for the Blackhilltales Blog which gets about a hundred visits a month. Since a major insurance company I know of only gets 900 visits a month with the aid of a vast advertising budget this tag connection seems to do very well with just the aid of the @FolkWorkshops account. If you would like to send in a review or article for publication then please e-mail it to us. This newsletter is always posted on the FolkWorkshops tag. ( see signature bit below if you were wondering what it was) Equally if you hear of an event which is worth publicising then that can be easily posted on Twitter if you let us know.

We will continue to have evenings at Newton Church Room. If we can have one or two sessions like the Wednesday 11th May evening then the winter months will soon pass by. Many thanks to Jim Neale once again and he sends his thanks to all of you who have supported the various events to fund his sons trip to Cambodia to do some teaching. We have also been made very welcome at the Crown Inn, Longtown, and so look out for announcements of regular sessions there as well.

Our singers who went to the Help the Heroes event in Peterchurch did exceptionally well. One of our group was in the audience and will give us some constructive feedback which will be useful for the next time we do this sort of thing. The general feedback from the organisers and members of the audience was very positive. As most singers had not performed before up on a stage with microphones, among all the cable, drums and amps, I think they should all be highly commended for that alone. Although at times the evening was a bit daunting in prospect it was one of those experiences which was well worth it. We have made a few more friends as a result and we have been invited back for next year. At the last count they had raised about £900.

Foxwhelp Morris: Now the light evenings are with us you may be looking for an outing. Why not combine support of a local hostelry with watching a bit of Morris Dancing. Here is Foxwhelps itinerary for places nearby. Full details can be found at: http://foxwhelpmorris.wordpress.com However, just a reminder that they will be at The Crown, Longtown this Tues 19th July from 7.30 pm and at The Yew Tree, Preston-on-Wye on 26th July.

Village Quire Visit: Make sure you put these dates in your diary. Workshop and Concert at St. John’s Newton and St.Margarets Church on September 28th and October 1st. This is a jint effort between FolkWorkshops and the two PCC’s so all offers of help welcome.

There are lots more events coming up in the Autumn and we hope to get most of this information to you in due course. In the meantime the August Newsletter may be delayed. Jane and I will be visiting a few folk clubs this August and a festival or two but we will be in back for our FolkWorkshops stand at the Longtown Show on the 20th August. We are then off again as our great niece is singing at Canterbury Cathedral and rather more mundanely we will be joining the sing around at Faversham Folk Club. It’s a long story but suffice it to say we were in Faversham, Kent, earlier this month buying another banjo and we were made very welcome at the local club when we made contact via e-mail in advance. It must have been reasonable as they have asked us back!

Finally, by visiting other singers and venues we have learnt quite a few things about developing our activities. Sing Arounds are a good way for individual singers and duos or quartets etc to develop their confidence and ability; whether singing or instrumental. There is nothing wrong in getting together separately to rehearse such contributions but such efforts should be given room to perform at the sing arounds without a group expectation that everyone should be able to join in with the whole piece. If there is a chorus, then all well and good, but individual performers need room to build their confidence and thereby add to the group experience. Equally, instrumental sessions, if run properly, can allow the beginners and improvers to learn from the more experienced in a way which allows them to learn from their mistakes without embarrassment. Several of the clubs we have come across make such sessions a regular event, separate from the main ‘club night’. This was the case with us in Faversham but as we were travelling back to our caravan in Walton-on-Thames that night via the M2, M20, M26 and M25 the invitation to try the new banjo out in the main bar with half a dozen instrumentalists the following night had to be declined! Consequently any players who are beginners or improvers should keep a look out for any instrumental workshop sessions which may be organised by individual supporters in the coming months.

If you can drop in at a local club when you are on your travels it can be quite a worthwhile experience, and in any case, you can always leave early.

Monday 11 July 2011

What my Parish Church means to me?



Since the church referred to in this article sits in the beautiful country beneath the Cats Back, the ridge which is the location of our part of the Offa's Dyke Path, and is in sight of Black Hill, we thought this was a more than fitting place to reproduce this article which was originally written for the Hereford Diocesan Newspaper.

A 'sense of place' is a phrase which I suspect does not feature in many people's vocabulary in this ever changing world. The only constant seems to be our ancient buildings and the continuous spawning of new supermarkets at the expense of old fashioned things like local shops. I think this article captures what I understand to be 'a sense of place' which many of us experience when visiting 'special places'. In all honesty however I must confess to knowing the author very well so I am not an objective critic in this matter.

Dacier


I love our parish church of St.Margarets. It sits in the landscape as it has always done surrounded by trees and fields. I am surprised when visitors say how beautiful it is. Every interested visitor makes me look anew at the ancient building.
With so many medieval churches, the temptation is to speak of the glories of the architecture. In our case the Rood Screen, Texts and the East Window are our main treasures. Wonderful though these features are, it is the people, past and present who have given meaning to the wood and stone which form the building.

Others will say, ‘My village church is always there, it’s my constant in life through all my ups and downs. It is somewhere to go home to’. Particularly important to those who can no longer live and work in one place, the ‘journeymen Christians’, who become members of successive congregations, but who always have the constant affection for their spiritual home. Like the belief that sustains them, having a constant in their life means so much.

When I sit in the church on Sunday I look around at the people with me and remember those who used to be there. The green man on the rood screen still leers at the vicar in the same old way, and the light still shines through the coloured glass window with Saint Margaret holding our church in her arms, but I am also picturing my parents sitting in a pew on an old bit of carpet. The carpet has gone now but it was noticeable that if we were late someone else would be sitting there grateful for the warmth this unsightly article provided. I remember the largest family in the parish with all the boys dressed in their red jumpers at Christmas, teenagers then, but grey-haired now.

But to the present. Happily, although most of our congregation are of pensionable age, we still have a toddler who mostly dozes through the service but occasionally wails when deserted by a parent who has gone to read a lesson.

There is a groove worn in the grass from our organist’s house to the church where she walks to unlock the medieval door every morning and to lock it again at dusk. You would think it was a cat’s path but I know better. She says the church is a life-line and a refuge for her. And of course that is what many people need in their lives.

When entering a church you are suddenly no longer alone. One visitor described our church as being soaked in the prayers of centuries. No fooling that visitor with the wrapping. It is a special place and I am pleased to say that it is not just me who has that feeling.

Jane