The Brunswick Arms... R.I.P.

This is a pub. Was a pub. Not any old pub. This is the pub where I met Caryn. And without The Brunswick Arms, 25 Stamford Street, London SE1, there would be no Olivia and Luke.

We heard the sad news today that it has finally closed. The whole building used to be the headquarters for Sainsbury's, but they moved to Holborn years ago and sold the building off. Since then The Brunswick has hung in there, but seems that that's that. It's actually quite emotional. Didn't think it would be.

(**NOTE** I stand corrected. Seems Sainsbury's have moved to Holborn on a temporary basis while the Stamford Street site is re-developed in a £270m makeover. Lord Foster's firm is behind the new building, it's quite large. And, Stamford Street will finally get a Sainsbury's store. We could never figure why it didn't when the HQ was there. Anyway...)

In the area surrounding King's Reach Tower there are loads of pubs, loads, where you drank kind of depended on where you worked. The Stamford was the traditional music press haunt I guess, so when Melody Maker had a shift change in the late Nineties, we also needed our own pub.

The only pub around that you could actually get a seat in was The Brunswick. It was a tired, grubby place, it was dark and dingy. So we made it our own. It was Mark (nee Roland) who christened it The Caravan Park. I had my leaving do in there, in fact, I had two leaving dos in there. One Maker and one NME. And I went to hundred other leaving dos in there too.

The bar staff were cracking - Old ladies you wouldn't mess with. They were motherly, matronly, and they were led by Elaine, SE1's own Bet Lynch. Bless them all. Then in early 2000, they started hiring younger staff. Didn't quite seem right, but hey. There was Claire the student nurse, Kim, the traveller from Oz, and, in July 2000, a girl who knocked an entire pub for six.

I don't know if it was coincidence, but the arrival of Caryn saw our pub quite quickly became the pub of choice. Friday nights were absolute chaos, with the place packed to the rafters. It was one of these nights that I first spoke to my future wife. I bought her a drink at the end of the night. Might as well I thought, what I have I got to lose? And anyway, why would a girl like that look twice at a scruffy oik like me?

Ha!

And she short changed me. Anyway, it is an ex-pub, it has ceased to be. So, here's to Elaine and Hartley (he who talked like a seal and held Freemason meetings in the cellar bar), who were proper landlords. Weird, but proper all the same. Here's to everyone who shared a pint in the great place and to all the daft conversations and mad schemes hatched ('What about Ben, he's probably the new Editor of NME.'). I enjoyed every last second. Thanks for being such fantastic company.

But most of all, here's to my beautiful wife and our two wonderful children, none of who would be a part of my life without The Brunswick Arms, 25 Stamford Street, London SE1.