I’m devastated to report that I am a rambler – the academic disposition of over-writing and under-editing. In their conception, these blogs were supposed to be 500 words or less; miniature musings on Lindsay and I’s pet pub passions. However, in my 5 completed blog posts so far, I have written 6,500 words. Brevity, seemingly, is lost on me. Resultantly this blog post represents somewhat of a challenge. I have challenged myself with writing about one of my favourite quirks of British Drinking Culture, in a meaningful and profound way, whilst steadfastly sticking to our sacred 500 word limit*.
My chosen subject? The merits of Train Station pubs. I have 384 words remaining. My time starts…now*.
Nothing beats a good train journey. My greatest travelling experiences have been by rail, from traversing the UK following West Brom to interrailing around Europe as a teenage whippersnapper. Primarily, I suppose this is because rail travels has an unmatched capacity for relaxation; allowing immersion in a good book or the cityscapes and countryside whipping past the window. More specifically however, I want to advocate the charms of a specific element of British train travel as a key to my love affair with train travel: the station pub.
For the uninitiated, a great station pub is not merely near a station, but OF the station; a boozers accessible directly from the platform. These are often small, quirky but incredibly romantic old drinking spaces, generally overlooked by travellers to the UK in favour of flashy city centre joints. My goal, in my own compressed way, is to try and change your mind on that fact – and in aid of keeping to my self-imposed word count – I’ve boiled down what makes station pubs so special into three essential characteristics.
- Victorian Beauty: though many aspects of English rail travel are lamentable (NB: more power to the RMT strikers), England’s Victorian-era train stations are spectacular (see Bristol Temple Meads, Huddersfield). Quite apart from providing wonderful surrounds as you await your delayed train, this gives Britain’s station pubs a quirky, red-brick, late-Victorian aesthetic which is unmistakeable. Perhaps the best example of this lies in York Station’s York Tap, a remarkable, miniature alehouse with spectacular stained glasswork and a gorgeous, centrepiece round bar (see pictured).
- Tranquility: whilst rail stations are hubs of mild panic and passive-aggression from frustrated travellers, the station pub is an oasis of calm. There are few more satisfying feelings than setting up shop with your luggage on a barstool, and enjoying a cold pint in spite of the commuter carnage surrounding you**.
- People-watching: the greatest charm of all of the station pub – especially in small, platform-facing pubs like The Old Ticket Office, Cambridge – is their unprecedented capacity for gawping at passers-by. The station pub is a space which turns even the most unobservant individual into a professional anthropologist, even the most uninterested person’s internal monologue into an Attenborough documentary, all whilst quietly swaying, unseen in the corner, drink in hand.
*The irony of my using 116 words to qualify my own tendency for over-qualification is not lost on me.
** This is particularly recommended during a stop over on a long travel.
A fantastic read! 👏