A Colour Bar in the Bar
I'm not sure if its my age, the wedding plans or the weather but I have of late been thinking a lot about the places where I used to live. On reflection I think nostalgia runs in the family. For the last 3 years Christmas has been punctuated by a continuing row over where we went on holiday in 1976. With, if I have the facts of this Byzantine row correct, the pro Isle of Wight camp claiming the evidence of what was number one, the weather and an Apollo mission all to no avail. The jury is not so much out as fast approaching senility.
I digress, my own nostalgic meanderings was encouraging me to think about visiting all of my old homes. I have no earthly or logical reason why I would want to do this I just thought I might. I should add that I have lived in many places starting in the East End of London via various London locations, Oxford, Norfolk and a few places in America before washing up in the North.
The ironic thing is that the only place I have revisited in any meaningful way is no longer there. In about 1974, my brother would be able to give you the exact dates plus who was number 1 at the time and what the weather was - I on the other hand have a sex life - we lived for a brief period in a Pub called the Railway Tavern in Mile End. This was a fantastic old Victorian pub. At the time to my eyes it was huge. It was the kind of pub that had character, the kind that chains now attempt to create with MDF. Only they don't seem to understand that real character isn't clean and doesn't come in flat pack.
I think we were only there for a summer but the memories of that place are some of the most potent I have. At the time Mile End was the kind of place that any self respecting person was trying to move away from. The East End was still the East End, the docks were still a viable industry and on the whole most people were trying to move out of cities.
One of the most powerful memories I have of the place is the informal colour bar that operated. For those not familiar with the traditional British pub they had two bars. The Public bar where the working men drank and the Lounge where the ladies and alleged better types drank. You could tell the difference because the Lounge had carpet, and in some cases charged a bit more - for the same drinks. In the Railway Tavern the Afro-Carribeans all seemed to drink in the Public bar and the white folks so to speak in the lounge. I say it was strange because this wasn't as far as I recall standard practice in the country at the time and people went from one bar to the other quite regular. It could be the rosy glasses of youth but every one I checked with has confirmed it there was no animosity. People used to have friends across the racial divide and would some times drink in the other bar and no one had any problem with it. But for most of the time everyone would stick to there own bars.
As I say every one got on with every one else black and white. We were only there for a summer and I don't think I saw any trouble. To my eyes it seems they were all friends buying each other drinks across the two bars rather than socialising in the same one.
Which only makes it stranger that when I visited a friend from university who comes from Bristol that I discovered he had moved into the same street where the pub was.
The Railway Tavern is no longer there, like many useful buildings it has been converted to flats for people looking for character. Only they now cost more than a whole street would have in the days when the place still had character. I was surprised that as I stood outside looking up at this now strangely small Victorian building lost in the music of Suzi Quatro and long hot summers that I wasn't arrested. One of the residents did came out to 'politely' enquire what the bloody hell was I doing and was I alright. I equally politely babbled something about having lived here many years ago and shuffled off, she didn't seem the kind to be interested in local history.
That said I have to console my self with that although I miss the place the fact that people don't see the need to separate themselves any more is a good thing. Its just that the loss of a community and character seems a high price to pay. As a kid I loved it and I think if I had stayed there I would have loved London. As it is my family moved and despite coming from London it now holds very little attraction for me. Yet ironically the desire of so many people from out side London to want to live there is feeding this monster of change.
I digress, my own nostalgic meanderings was encouraging me to think about visiting all of my old homes. I have no earthly or logical reason why I would want to do this I just thought I might. I should add that I have lived in many places starting in the East End of London via various London locations, Oxford, Norfolk and a few places in America before washing up in the North.
The ironic thing is that the only place I have revisited in any meaningful way is no longer there. In about 1974, my brother would be able to give you the exact dates plus who was number 1 at the time and what the weather was - I on the other hand have a sex life - we lived for a brief period in a Pub called the Railway Tavern in Mile End. This was a fantastic old Victorian pub. At the time to my eyes it was huge. It was the kind of pub that had character, the kind that chains now attempt to create with MDF. Only they don't seem to understand that real character isn't clean and doesn't come in flat pack.
I think we were only there for a summer but the memories of that place are some of the most potent I have. At the time Mile End was the kind of place that any self respecting person was trying to move away from. The East End was still the East End, the docks were still a viable industry and on the whole most people were trying to move out of cities.
One of the most powerful memories I have of the place is the informal colour bar that operated. For those not familiar with the traditional British pub they had two bars. The Public bar where the working men drank and the Lounge where the ladies and alleged better types drank. You could tell the difference because the Lounge had carpet, and in some cases charged a bit more - for the same drinks. In the Railway Tavern the Afro-Carribeans all seemed to drink in the Public bar and the white folks so to speak in the lounge. I say it was strange because this wasn't as far as I recall standard practice in the country at the time and people went from one bar to the other quite regular. It could be the rosy glasses of youth but every one I checked with has confirmed it there was no animosity. People used to have friends across the racial divide and would some times drink in the other bar and no one had any problem with it. But for most of the time everyone would stick to there own bars.
As I say every one got on with every one else black and white. We were only there for a summer and I don't think I saw any trouble. To my eyes it seems they were all friends buying each other drinks across the two bars rather than socialising in the same one.
Which only makes it stranger that when I visited a friend from university who comes from Bristol that I discovered he had moved into the same street where the pub was.
The Railway Tavern is no longer there, like many useful buildings it has been converted to flats for people looking for character. Only they now cost more than a whole street would have in the days when the place still had character. I was surprised that as I stood outside looking up at this now strangely small Victorian building lost in the music of Suzi Quatro and long hot summers that I wasn't arrested. One of the residents did came out to 'politely' enquire what the bloody hell was I doing and was I alright. I equally politely babbled something about having lived here many years ago and shuffled off, she didn't seem the kind to be interested in local history.
That said I have to console my self with that although I miss the place the fact that people don't see the need to separate themselves any more is a good thing. Its just that the loss of a community and character seems a high price to pay. As a kid I loved it and I think if I had stayed there I would have loved London. As it is my family moved and despite coming from London it now holds very little attraction for me. Yet ironically the desire of so many people from out side London to want to live there is feeding this monster of change.
posted by gerbil at 7:03 pm
3 Comments:
I suppose that is what defacto segregation is. people's natural want of being with their own kind. Which there should be no hard feelings against the other side.
It gets nasty when by law races are separated. "The Separate But Equal" ruling was a big farce.
Ah good ole Plessy V Ferguson. 1896? ..see i did pay attention at uni. Mind you that was from memory so it could be wrong. Its true we don't need laws to make life more difficult for us than we are willing to make it.
I still think its weird that I should have such strong memories of that time and place. It has also started of a load of thoughts so i think it may prove the starting point of some other blogs.
You are correct! I Googled it before I confirmed it, it is nothing I drew out of my memory or anything like that. I have heard of Plessy vs Ferguson, but it seemed the dates should be later, maybe in the 1910s - but it was 1896 as you said.
For the past dozen years or so I have lived in a nostalgic world. When I am near my old stomping grounds I can't help from recalling each spot. I don't know if it is something natural for my age or maybe I am going mad and trying to cling to the building blocks of my memory cells - if that makes sense.
Isn't it strange how inspirations for blogs come about? Somebody might say something that will remind me of something that reminds me of something else, that trails me off remembering about a childhood incident that has nothing to do with what I started off originally writing about.
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