He drinks a Whiskey drink, he drinks a Vodka drink
He drinks a Lager drink, he drinks a Cider drink
He sings the songs that remind him of the good times
He sings the songs that remind him of the better times
– Tubthumping by Chumbawumba
Pub? Go on, then. Let’s go. And we do. Often. The British love the pub. It’s mostly fun, but can be rough and rowdy, with carpets sticky enough to suck the shoes from your feet and bogs best avoided unless you’re looking for a score or a ‘good time’.
Photographer Marco Sconocchia has been taking picture of us down the pub. His portraits of people in London pubs is on show at the Italian Institute of Culture from 26 January-3 March.
“The pubs I’ve photographed are the soulful ones, the traditional, the community builders, the places where many stories are told or happen,” he says. “I’ve tried to tell the story of those places, an unmissable part of British heritage.”
We’ve been before of course. We’ve hung out with the ‘Puffy Boys’ at the Running Horse pub Mayfair, waited for the sun to go down with the daytime drinkers in Tony Hall’s East End, had a laugh on a pub outing, supped ‘the sweet aromatic aperitifs of the continent’ at The French House in Soho, spent the night at Carlise’s oldest pub, propped up the bar with Brigitte Bardot, and an afternoon with the Krays and a Blind Beggar, discovered that a Double Diamond really does work wonders and gamely taken a tour of Manchester’s flat-roofed pubs.
So… Your round. Get ’em in!
“Get out my pub!”
– Peggy Mitchell, EastEnders
“A good local pub has much in common with a church, except that a pub is warmer, and there’s more conversation. ”
― William Blake
“Have you ever been in a pub where everyone goes armed? Oh, things are a little polite at first, I’ll grant you, and then some twerp drinks out of the wrong mug or picks up someone else’s change by mistake and five minutes later you’re picking noses out of the beer nuts”
― Terry Pratchett, Jingo
“Work. Home. The pub. Meeting girls. Living in the city. Life. Is that all there is?”
― Neil Gaiman, Neverwhere
Come, come, come and make eyes at me
Down at The Old Bull and Bush
Come, come, have some port wine with me
Down at The Old Bull and Bush
Hear the little German band
Just let me hold your hand, dear
Do, do, come and have a drink or two
Down at The Old Bull and Bush
– Down At The Old Bull And Bush, Florrie Forde
Knees up Mother Brown
Knees up Mother Brown
Under the table you must go
Ee-aye, Ee-aye, Ee-aye-oh
If I catch you bending
I’ll saw your legs right off
Knees up, knees up
don’t get the breeze up
Knees up Mother Brown
– Knees Up Mother Brown
And Paddy got up and he sang it again
Over and over and over again
B’ Jesus said Paddy I sang it so well
I think I’ll get up and I’ll sing it again.
So Paddy got up and he sung it again…
– Arsenal FC
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