The George and the Dragon, 183 High Street

Luckily we didn’t have to walk too far through the Narnia-like frozen wastes of Acton High Street before finding this place. On walking through the door we found ourselves in a seemingly small, if rather dark pub. Feeling like we had just stepped back into a wardrobe after a bracing walk in frosty forest, we spied a list displaying the names of former landlords hanging by the side of the bar. The list showed that this pub was actually rather historic and dated back to the 17th century. Sadly many of the original features appeared to have been lost following years of successive refits. In spite of this we were cheered by the HSB on tap and with pints in hand we set about finding a place to sit. We followed the bar around to the left and realized that the pub extended back for miles before opening out into a cavernous dining area where all manner of gastro food offerings are served. Statues, probably the petrified remains on non-paying customers, were arranged around the room. Conscious of the fact that the ice queen herself might be stalking the place disguised as a waitress, we shrank back towards the bar and bagged a seat there. After a while a group of women staggered into the pub and proceeded to giggle like a pack of hyenas. This incident caused us to all “break our seals” within the space of ten minutes. Fred went to the gents first and returned with the most bizarre object ever retrieved from a pub’s toilets: a Chlamydia testing kit. The instructions invited the user to piss into the small container provided and mail it to the local health authority. As we had already deposited our urine samples in the usual place and our pints were empty, we decided to leave this odd place behind and return to the icy wilderness of West London.

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