Fingers in ears

It's been two years and three days since I started this blog. Since then, my life has changed immeasurably. But you don't want to read about that. The first post I wrote was about The Crown Tavern on Clerkenwell Green. It meandered all over the place, and ended up nowhere (the post, not the pub - the building's stationary). I've learned to be more succinct since then. I think that's a good thing.

I was in The Crown on Sunday night, with my pals John, Scott and young Percy the dog, who seems to have doubled in size over Christmas. I had a hankering for a few pints of Pilsner Urquell after seeing it in a movie I watched the other day (I Served the King of England, if you're interested). Product placement works for me, clearly.

There was a traditional folk session on upstairs in the Apollo Room, a space that was once used as a music hall. We were among the only spectators, but the chaps with the instruments seemed very happy anyway. A moustachioed gent in the classic denim tracksuit (shirt + jeans) sat astride the back of a sofa playing his fiddle, before leaping to the floor. He stalked around the group, asserting his status as alpha male among string-pickers. One enthusiastic wifey called out for a pair of spoons, then added a remarkable syncopation to the mix.

I'm not really sure whether the group were any good. I don't really care. However amateur it might be, this kind of finger-in-ear folk will always strike a chord with me. It reminds me of my childhood and how I first fell in love with pubs. My dad was a folk singer when I was young. We used to go to festivals as a family and stay in B&Bs. My mum would take me to see whatever sights the town had to offer (a few in Whitby, fewer in Rothbury), then we'd meet my well-oiled father and watch him sing in smoky pubs.

I learned how to pronounce Kirkcudbright. More importantly, I learned about the ineffable magic of the British pub when music and laughter fill the air and beer fills the glasses.

Forgive me for the hopeless photo. I never carry a camera, and when I want to capture a moment I have to use my mobile phone. The Crown Tavern is at 43 Clerkenwell Green, EC1R 0EG (map). They sell some excellent imported beers from bottle and keg, but the cask ales and the food aren't so hot.