Ben Welsher | Writings

Pub review They say: "I miss Darren..." --the regulars 1/5 I say: I could die. I am dying. Withering really. Or still living despite Atlas having stopped the earth and carefully placed it down before grabbing my ankle, digging his fingers in under my collarbone and tearing me in half. Twenty years of fetid abuse and viscera explode from a ravenous tear that unzips my belly. The smell is overpowering but still not as bad as the odour from the BBQ sauce on whatever the fuck the guy next to me has ordered from the wipe-clean menu. Darren finds it amusing but then he would wouldn't he. A smiling A3 size picture of him hangs above the fireplace. God knows why. Maybe he's dead. Maybe he was killed. In this bar. The picture was taken the night of his murder, pre-mortem. Ordinarily the regulars could put up with the utterly generic nature of their lives, their loves and their pub but Darren's decision to pair a shirt with a particularly small cuban collar and a tie i

Pub review They say: "I've never actually gone inside, but from the outside on my way to work. It looks very nice. Google has been pestering me for over six months to leave a review so here it is." --Lex Price 3/5 I say: Set in the ground floor of a tasteful brick-built, stone-edged block of flats the Admiral's Landing overlooks an empty marina. The gas cannisters, storage containers and general detritus of living suggest the boats and their owners may return but the water lilies and weeds grow large. Swifts chirp overhead as they return to their summer nests under the stone eaves of the building while west country accents warm the autumn evening. The pub's local claim to fame must surely be the 38oz tomahawk steak on it's chalkboard. At less than £1 an ounce it's some value. A middle aged woman sends her mother home with a stern demand that she call her on arrival. Perhaps Glynnis (as we'll call her) had failed to pace herself once again on the c

Pub review They say: "Not bad. Enjoyable locals with a very bearded landlord and lovely bar staff. If you want a friendly local pub with a real Bridgwater feel, this is the one to visit. Truly a Somerset experience. I highly recommend all visitors to experience this delight and especially get a ticket for some of the excellent bands playing onFriday's in the adjacent function room. Pool table too." -- Richard Strange 5/5 I say: A local cheerily sympathises with my indecisiveness in the face of the wide array of beers on tap. I choose a generic Czech lager for reasons that escape me even before the words escape my lips. The three storey grade II listed building tumbles down through extensions and brick abutments to the patio in the back. Various sizes of cable reel provide generous chairs and tables. Building materials, empty kegs and neglected pot plants gather in the corners and the feel is of someone's slightly unloved garden. My suit is jarring amongst the li

Pub review They say: "Great night will visit again nice staff very friendly 👍" --Geoff Power 1/5 I say: A pub based around what was, you guessed it kiln fans, a lime kiln. The region has a long history of brick and tile production so kilns are still a common, if deprecated, sight here. There is even a brick and tile museum that has one of the only traditional brick kilns to survive in southern England. It was one of six at the former Barham Brothers’ Yard in East Quay, Bridgwater, and was last used in 1965. But, kiln fans, you already knew that. Museum reviews are for another time though, I am here to assess the pub. Alcohol being a critical component of architectural critique and a most essential lubricant in the rating of hospitality I approach the bar. My thick generic Southern accent confuses the barmaid so I repeat the order. I suspect it won't be there first time I fail to blend in around these parts. An attractive main building fronts a higgledy-piggledy beer