In the middle of the warehouse in Chiswick from where once many sporting events were beamed to the world, a solitary frame remains from the once full and lively Central Apparatus Room (or CAR for short). In it sits a router, too heavy for anyone to move (the question of how did they get it in it the first place comes to mind, but it is not one for today).
For myself, today is a day off. A day with which I decided a couple of weeks ago I would use to come to Chiswick for a few pints in The Mawson Arms, that pub on the corner by the Fuller’s Brewery. It soon came to my attention, that seperately, there were other people who had muted plans to pay a visit to the old workplace, and to the pub in the process. How many of them will end up here is yet to be seen. It is still “pre-lunchtime” as I type, whilst occasionally stopping to pick up the pint glass, sat to the right and slightly up from the netbook on which I’m writing.
In the glass is a beer brewed for the World Cup named Two Halves. It has that Fuller’s taste. It’s a taste that I didn’t really realise was there, but a few months after my last shift in Chiswick, and that time without having a Fuller’s pub on my doorstep, it’s a taste that is the sort of taste that once you take the first sip, you realise you’ve missed it. That being said though, as drinkable as Two Halves is, it’s far from being amongst my favourite Fuller’s beers, or amongst the ones I look forward to seeing again, like Spring Sprinter and Jack Frost.
Across from the table I am currently sat at is a window. Outside of that window, dozens, probably hundreds of cars depending on the length of the session, pass by on the A4, headed either towards London, or in the other direction to Richmond and the South, or the West on the A4. I always found there to be something theraputic about sitting in here, or the nearby George and Devonshire, and watching the world pass by. Inside the pub, everything feels like it has stopped, outside however, everything continues as it was. A siren wails as the veichle it’s attached to rushes to the emergency it’s been called to. Taxis drive holidaymakers to their hotels, or business men and women to their meetings. Lorries drive shipments to their destinations, and occasionally, people will walk past, some on their way inside, some on their way to another place altogether.
The first of a few people have arrived. In the name of social politeness, it seems like a good time to finish this post, and also finish this pint beside me. You now have less than a month to buy your Beer Bash tickets and book any travel and accomodation you may need. I shall remind you of this fact again next week, and every week until the festival has passed.
Until then, have a great weekend.