London Metropolitan Archives

It's ages since my last visit to the LMA. Far too long. So much I wanted to photograph, so little time.

I hit the archive at 10:30. My plan was to leave at about 14:00. I spent the time waiting for the first 5 manuals to be brought up from the storeroom filling in slips for the other ones I wanted to peruse. This was my pre-prepared list of logs to check out:


Barclay Perkins
Porter - 1805, 1812, 1851, 1856
Ale - 1890, 1900
Lager -


Whitbread
Ale - 1914-1919, 1939-1946, 1951, 1955, 1961
Porter - 1851, 1861, 1871, 1881, 1891, 1901, 1910, 1923, 1939-1946, 1951, 1955, 1961


Truman
Ale - 1871, 1881, 1891, 1901, 1910, 1914-1919, 1923, 1933, 1939-1946, 1951, 1955, 1961
Porter - 1871, 1881, 1891, 1901, 1910, 1914-1919, 1923, 1933, 1939-1946, 1951, 1955, 1961

Not that ambitious, really.

Last time I tried to visit the archive, December last year, it was closed for building work. I noticed why. Tghe interior has been completely remodelled. Very nice it is, too. Almost as posh as the Amsterdam city archive.

After I collected a volume I heard one of the friendly women behind the counter ask a colleague: "What's a gyle book?" "No idea". A few minutes she came up to me and politely enquired "What exactly is a gyle book? We've never come across them before." I explained that they were brewing records. It's an indication of how often anyone looks at these things that even the staff has no idea what they were.

I was snapping away at the Whitbread 1861 logs when disaster struck. My camera battery was flat. I used to have a spare. But then some idiot got drunk and left it on a train. Aagh! It was only 12:15. I could have got upset. But what use would that be? And I'll be in London again in a couple of weeks with the family. With a bit of cunning and planning, I should be able to create a window of a couple of hours at the archive.

Luckily, Stonch's pub his just around the corner. And the Pukelier was in excellent form. I soon forgot about my camera disaster. When Stonch gave me a bag of pork scratchings the transformation of my mood was complete. I reckoned that I had until 15:00 before I needed to start making my way to Liverpool Street station and eventually Stansted. Time for a pint or two.

Just drinking cask beer is a treat in itself for me. Drinking really nice cask beer is even better. Old Puke really is the perfect session beer. Just 5.6% ABV. And the low carbonation means it just slips down. I'd had five by 14:45. Didn't want to overdo it. Was there time for another? Not really. "Half of Puke please. And a double Laphroaig."

I won't bore with a description of visiting Tesco to buy pies and mini scotch eggs. Or the thrill of hanging around the airport. Not even the luxury of a fully-booked Easyjet flight.

It was pissing it down when we touched down. No, my mood still hadn't been ruined. Then there was the look on the little faces of the kids when they saw the pork pies. Bless them.