But sometimes, maybe when in a more mischievous mood, a rather different vision flickers through my brain. Let’s say I had a multi-million Lottery win (which I won’t, as I don’t do the Lottery). I’d buy a well-known, high-end gastro dining pub in a rural, village or small town location. I’d then close off much of the interior to reduce it to three smallish rooms – a main bar, a darts room and a cosy snug or parlour. These I would have done up in a pastiche of a late Victorian National Inventory pub, with ample bench seating and plenty of dark wood and etched glass, but no bar stools. It would be strictly over-18s only.
What's the pub/bar you daydream about setting up and running?— Boak and Bailey (@BoakandBailey) 17 February 2017
There would be no food, apart from crisps and nuts. Likewise, there would be no piped music, although I’d have a telly that was reserved for sporting events on free-to-air TV, especially the racing. The likely level of trade wouldn’t sustain many beers, so I’d probably just have Carling and one cask bitter, something like Thwaites Original or Weetwood Best. Draught Bass would be tempting, although probably that bit too strong. If there wasn’t enough turnover, it would have to go keg. Cider and Guinness drinkers would have to put up with cans or bottles.
Outdoor signage would be limited to a plain name-board and a sign displaying the hours. If the name had been changed to something trendy and pretentious, it would revert back to the original Railway or Red Lion. It would stick to the traditional opening hours of 11-3 and 5.30-11 Monday to Saturday, and 12-3 and 7-10.30 on Sundays. The exterior would have a general appearance of benign neglect. The whole intention would be to create somewhere that people would chance on and think “Wow, I didn’t know places like this still existed”.
As it wouldn’t, realistically, be a commercial venture, I’d have to employ a manager rather than a tenant. The job wouldn’t be a particularly onerous one, so it could be taken on by someone semi-retired who was looking to write their Great Novel. They would have to look after a pub cat, though, and keep a coal fire burning in the winter.
It might prove to be surprisingly popular, as I think there’s some life in the old-fashioned drink-and-chat pub still. On the other hand, possibly it would have absolutely zero customers. But I wouldn’t care.