‘Small house with a big welcome’

There is a fine picture of a man riding a penny farthing just inside the door of the White Lion. He is wearing a cap, a striped jumper and socks and is a reminder of just how precarious those bicycles were to straddle. The light was dim so it was hard to tell if the painting was original; if it is I guess that it may be worth a bit.

I'd dropped in here on a Sunday because it was before twelve and no other pubs were open yet. Judging by the thick, smoky, atmosphere and the ten or so people clustered around the small bar, things had been going well for some time.

I had no intention of staying long because I wanted lunch but I could probably have satisfied my appetite with the mountain of cheese, sliced gherkins, pickled onions, biscuits and salted peanuts available free on the bar.

The other good thing about the pub was the quality of the McMullen's AK.

If they are as good as this at keeping one beer, I'm surprised that they don't go in for more of a selection.

The place itself has considerable possibilities. It is half panelled with a compact bar opening straight on to an attractive pedestrianised street.

The interior is plastered with tiny advertisements for future attractions, naming singers who perform to recorded accompaniment. At one end there is a cabinet containing massive cups awarded for victories by the darts team.

On our visit the place looked really untidy. This was mainly due to the fact that the early birds had already consumed the contents of the Sunday scandal sheets and left them strewn across the tables before retiring to the bar to discuss the topics of the day.

A brass plaque proclaims "a small house with a big welcome" the landlady was friendly enough but the locals were a bit stand-offish perhaps this was because we were reading their papers.

I might have stayed a little longer but, because there was no air conditioning, Mrs Pubwatch's eyes were streaming so we made our excuses and left.