A lovely time in London

In his weekly The Bar Man column, Jeff Hoyle discusses a recent trip…And so, to Blackheath again for the sixth quiz that I have presided over for All Saints Church, this time in aid of the Charlton Athletic Community Fund. Friday evening took us to a local pub overlooking the Heath where I was pleased to spot five beers on the hand pumps, with the couple I tried being excellent examples of modern IPAs.The food was pretty good too, with a nice venison stew lingering briefly on my plate before being devoured with relish. The only downside was that when I paid the tab I discovered that there was an automatic addition of a 12.5% service charge. I don’t know how common this has become but feel that we can do without this creeping Americanisation. I have no objection to tips, but they should be discretionary rather than imposed by subterfuge. I also feel that around 10% is the going rate in this country.

Saturday saw us keeping out of the way while the magic happened in Sue’s kitchen with her share of the chilli for the evening meal being created. Where to go? A quick look through the sporting fixtures revealed that Blackheath Rugby Club had a game against Birmingham Moseley. Billed as the oldest rugby club in the world, they once featured a Dr John Watson amongst their players according to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. He has his own connections with the club, and published a short story called The Adventure of the Missing Three-Quarter.Fortunately, I did my research before the game and discovered that the first team now play in nearby Eltham as they have outgrown their historic ground. After a stroll down Eltham High Street and some lunch, the Bar Wife unaccountably departed for the delights of Blackheath Village, while I watched a thrilling second-half comeback as the Club (never Blackheath, always Club. Well played Club!) rallied to an impressive 51-26 victory.On my return, it was time to don the Waistcoat of Truth and lead the unsuspecting locals through questions that had baffled the good citizens of Lynn. Fewer of them knew that Peter Scott lived in a Norfolk lighthouse, but everyone seemed to enjoy the occasion and Matthew the brewer sold all his beer. I have not seen a final figure, but at £25 per head, I expect the amount raised to be substantial. Sunday saw my annual visit to church where the service seems deeply familiar yet subtly different to those of my youth. Even the words of my favourite hymn, Hills of the North, Rejoice, seem to have undergone a revision. No matter, I was there to observe rather than participate and watched on in wonder as the incense was diffused and the robed clerics and escorts paraded around the church.There was just time for lunch around Caroline’s, one of the stalwarts of the church, where the many connections in the world of classical music and the clergy were explored. Nor was it just classical music. Shortly after our return to Lynn, the Corn Exchange was due to present a show based on the life and works of Simon and Garfunkel and it emerged that Israel, the actor playing Paul Simon, was lodging with our host Sue’s daughter in Bristol when not on tour. And so, Homeward Bound, this time avoiding the loss of tyre pressure in the Blackwall Tunnel that provided such entertainment last time we travelled across the river. A quick check showed that tickets were still available for the show coming up later in the week, and that will make an excellent bookend to a very enjoyable trip.barman@btinternet.com