![The Blythe Hill Tavern in Catford is our writer's favourite pub](/https/www.telegraph.co.uk/content/dam/travel/2024/06/28/TELEMMGLPICT000383626923_17195686620330_trans_NvBQzQNjv4BqRo0U4xU-30oDveS4pXV-Vv4Xpit_DMGvdp2n7FDd82k.jpeg?imwidth=680)
I’ve visited thousands of British pubs – and this one is my favourite
Having studiously sampled pubs of all types, from sports bars to old-man boozers, I think I’ve found the perfect formula
![The Blythe Hill Tavern in Catford is our writer's favourite pub](/https/www.telegraph.co.uk/content/dam/travel/2024/06/28/TELEMMGLPICT000383626923_17195686620330_trans_NvBQzQNjv4BqRo0U4xU-30oDveS4pXV-Vv4Xpit_DMGvdp2n7FDd82k.jpeg?imwidth=680)
Almost three decades on, I can still remember the pub where I first successfully ordered a pint of beer. It was an undistinguished post-war boozer on the edge of a humdrum Kentish town, my friend and I were 16 and fresh-faced with it – and, crucially, the bar was staffed by a solitary, rather uninterested young man.
He barely looked at us as we ordered two pints of bitter, chosen because it was on offer at £1.30 a pint. The beer was a bit flat and entirely denuded of foam but it was cheap and, most importantly, it was beer. Oh happy day!
Different times. Like Britain’s attitude towards underage drinking, my approach to picking pubs has evolved since the 1990s, when the equation was simple: how likely am I to get served and how likely am I to get beaten up? (The sweet spot was often found in sleepy street-corner pubs, most of which have now been levelled or converted into flats.)
![Liz Callaghan works behind the bar at the Blythe Hill Tavern, writer Will's favourite pub](/https/www.telegraph.co.uk/content/dam/travel/2024/06/28/TELEMMGLPICT000383626947_17195690694870_trans_NvBQzQNjv4BqA7N2CxnJWnYI3tCbVBgu9T0aesusvN1TE7a0ddd_esI.jpeg?imwidth=350)
Since then I’ve studiously sampled pubs of all types. Student pubs, chain bars, gastropubs, city-centre booze barns, sports bars, old-man boozers, brewpubs, Irish pubs; I’ve seen the inside of them all and many more besides. From Arisaig to Treorchy and Ramsgate to Enniskillen, I’ve experienced the best of what these islands have to offer.
And – without wishing to get mired in a tedious debate about alcohol’s place in British culture – I do think pubs are one of the best things we’ve got. In a world that grows more monochrome and online by the day, they’re a much-needed repository of local colour and human interaction.
I’ll always remember, for example, the jolly trio of friends I met at the Beacon Hotel in Dudley a few years back. United by their passion for the delicious beer brewed on site, Sarah Hughes Ruby Mild, they travelled from their homes in Kidderminster once a week for a few pints and a chance to relax in one of the Black Country’s great pubs. They were uproarious company, the sort you don’t generally run into at a coffee shop.
![The Tamworth Tap is another strong contender for favourite pub](/https/www.telegraph.co.uk/content/dam/travel/2024/06/28/TELEMMGLPICT000324507782_17195691355360_trans_NvBQzQNjv4BqyuLFFzXshuGqnr8zPdDWXhbQKbwj1ZsnNMhuR7O6ySI.jpeg?imwidth=350)
The Black Country is a great place to understand what makes a pub work. It has perhaps Britain’s strongest pub culture, being home to a trio of much-loved small breweries (Sarah Hughes, Holden’s and Bathams), dozens of cosy pubs and the Desi pub movement, where great Indian food is served in a pub atmosphere. The Black Country’s pubs vary in terms of decor, but the best share one essential quality: they’re joyful places to spend an hour or so.
They’re the opposite of those places, sadly prevalent in the more tourist-orientated bits of London, where nothing is quite right. Often part of a huge chain, they feel unloved. The beer is a little stale, the tables are grubby, the furniture is uncomfortable. They’re designed for rapid vertical drinking rather than comfort.
Over the years, I have established my own preferences/prejudices. I like city pubs, particularly those with good cask beer, soft bench seating, and – if at all possible – a sense that little has changed decor-wise since Lloyd George was a boy. But I’m not a total zealot. Some pubs I love – like double Camra national champion The Tamworth Tap, based in a former office building, and Glasgow’s Laurieston, with its marvellous 1960s bar and red formica tables – tick only one or two of these boxes.
![Will is particularly fond of the cask ale at the Blythe Tavern](/https/www.telegraph.co.uk/content/dam/travel/2024/06/28/TELEMMGLPICT000383626916_17195692072890_trans_NvBQzQNjv4Bq_Qt1iuvWth76e9d_IW2U0bNmajAM0FJ-hmoUWpKNwt4.jpeg?imwidth=350)
There is one non-negotiable element: an excellent landlady/lord – such as Carol Ross, who runs the Roscoe Head in Liverpool. It’s a cosy, welcoming place, full of comfortable corners to have a chat. It stands out in a city centre full of great places for a beer. Then there’s Ali Ross at the Coach and Horses in Soho, which is enjoying a new golden age having been taken on by Fuller’s a few years ago.
If I lived in Liverpool, the Roscoe Head might well be my favourite pub – or maybe The Lion Tavern, with its delightful “News Room”. If I were from Bradford, it would probably be The Corn Dolly, a cask-ale-and-carpet classic. But I live in south London, where pubs have endured a mixed time of it recently, so my favourite is the Blythe Hill Tavern in Catford.
It’s run by Con Riordan, who came to Britain from Limerick in 1974. Like all the best pubs, it has its quirks. The bar staff wear ties. There’s a lot of horse-racing paraphernalia on the walls, from fetching shots of jockeys like Pat Eddery and Lester Piggott to a Sporting Life front cover from 1981 reading: “A Lap of Honour – It Was That Easy For Shergar and Swinburn”. There are three rooms, TV sport, a weekly Irish music session, a huge back yard, great cask ale (not, alas, at £1.30 a pint). It’s got something for everything while retaining its own distinctive character. That’s the essence of a great pub.