Friday afternoon and we’re strolling through the heart of the city — on the edge of the weekend, the edge of gentle possibility, and the edge of restoration.
Claire and I pass the infinitely charismatic Malls Balls and enter Rundle Street before making a sharp left at, but not into, the Exeter.
Claiming a corner booth, I glance outside and consider the Elephant is that rarest of boozers — it’s not on a street but a pedestrian lane. In contrast to my previous visit in July of 1997, it’s now bright and airy as opposed to somber and gloomy, presumably in former imitation of a Tottenham tavern.
That was just prior to the Ashes when Mark Taylor and his team thrashed England, again. Back then a group of Kapunda chaps engaged in a Wednesday ritual called Schnitzel Club during which we visited over one hundred and fifty pubs.
At that point, the England cricket team was sponsored by Tetley’s Bitter Beer and as a British boozer, the Elephant had it on tap. To heighten the pre-Ashes anticipation, we ordered one each.
How was it?
It was tepid like Tibooburra tap water and stank (tasted is too generous a verb) of late-capitalism collapse, murky Yorkshire moors and Thatcherite despair. It remains the worst beverage I’ve ever put in my (chiefly) undeserving gob.
Tonight, gladly, I’ve the immeasurably superior Coopers Pale Ale and my imperial pint is only $9. Claire has a white wine. We discuss the usual suspects — work, family and how Escape to the Country might later unfold (with the scarcely disguised disappointment of the house hunters, the host or, most likely, both).
There’s a lively (non-suit) crowd in and the atmosphere’s propulsive. A DJ is on the decks and doing a fine job. He plays an underappreciated track by The Beatles in ‘The Night Before’ before spinning Steely Dan’s ‘Do It Again’ with its decidedly cinematic opening and Arabesque atmospherics.
In the mornin’ you go gunnin’ for the man who stole your water
And you fire till he is done in, but they catch you at the border
Fireball Fridays have arrived, so Claire buys one (it may have been a double, Your Honour) with a squelch of ginger beer. It’s whisky with hot, spicy cinnamon and, accordingly, the late afternoon sun bends in through the ample windows. It’s an immediate hit.
Our Mystery Pub fare (ye olde fayre) is sausage rolls with fennel, and arancini balls. The plates come with three items, so having had one of each we agree to divide the remainder. Claire says, ‘Which one would you like?’ and I reply, ‘I think you know.’
And she does.
Concluding our second cups, we press out into the sparkling evening. Our weekend’s underway.
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About Mickey Randall
Now whip it into shape/ Shape it up, get straight/ Go forward, move ahead/ Try to detect it, it's not too late/ To whip it, whip it good
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Good work again Mickey. It’s time to go international! A pub tour of the UK perhaps?
Despite (or maybe because of) Steely Dan’s mid-song outbreak of noodling, that’s a fair lead-in to the weekend.
Thanks Barry. I love a UK pub and can’t wait to return. On a summer’s afternoon a British beer garden is the finest place on earth.
It certainly was, Swish. You know it was a good weekend when the most disappointing aspect was the one-sided AFL grand final, and you barely noticed (or cared). The other song I heard in the pub that sparked a response (maybe should’ve made reference to it) was Joe Jackson’s ‘Steppin’ Out.’ He had a great decade, then got delisted! Thanks.
Lovely Mickey. In some ways it could be read as a prelude to a wider tome called “The Schnitzel Club.”
I doubt that I have read a finer review of a beverage than your assessment of Tetley’s. Gold!
Nice to chill to ‘Do it again’ on a Friday arvo.
Thanks Er. Ah, The Schnitzel Club. Was great fun but I doubt Bill Hunter would’ve accepted a role in the film version.
Thanks, Greg. In the future when I’m say, in York, I might try another Tetley’s so I’m in full, appreciative context. But I doubt it!
Great work Mickey! The good life & you capture it so well. (I would have loved to have seen that Joe Jackson reference too, big fan, glad he popped up in the comments).
Excellent as always Mickey
Thanks DB and Rulebook. With the ever-increasing numbers of ‘nostalgia’ acts touring, I’m surprised that Joe Jackson hasn’t bobbed up. I note the lead singer of Spandau Ballet is heading our way soon (again)!
After two and a half years of retirement, I was sucked back into the workforce at the beginning of August for a three-month contract which has now morphed into four. Preparing for demolition the old plant at which I worked for 36 years. Monday to Friday.
All this is to say that your words “the edge of gentle possibility, and the edge of restoration” ring oh so true.
Thanks again, Mickey.
In a laneway off a street is where you find the most historic (and best) pubs in London. It didn’t occur to me that The Elephant has replicated this, however fortuitously, until reading, Mickey.
Thanks Smokie. As always and when the time’s right, I reckon there’s a great story in you returning to work and I’d be keen to read your thoughts.
Daryl- how true! The sooner I can get back to one of those London pubs, the better for everybody’s psychological safety!
Thanks Mickey for another fab review! Although I’m a non-drinker, I must visit some of these ‘mystery’ pubs when I’m over for Writers Week next year.
Appreciate it, Col. Happy to chaperone!