Apparently bitter and ales are very good for colds. This is according to the Rock Star, who although not a medical man, is the son of one and a highly seasoned drinker so in many ways perfectly qualified to comment. I bore that in mind as the Northerner and I, cold ridden and a tad hungover, headed to the tourist trap that is the George in Borough High Street near London Bridge, and amongst other things, prides itself in its collection of bitters et al. We were there to meet Little Boots (not the pop star, but my friend who has the smallest feet I've ever seen on an adult) and her hubby the Greek God who were over from Australia for a work trip. I hadn't been to the George before but everyone I know seems to have and talks it up big time. And now that I've been there I'm not sure why that is the case.
The George has all the trappings of Ye Olde English pub. A 17th century coach house that is full of nooks and crannies, the place does have character. Traditional (not gastro) pub grub, a beer garden and an impressive range of beers seems to keep the punters happy. They even serve wine in those small bottles that I thought you only got on planes.
Yet it pales in comparison with the delightful pubs of Borough Market - the Rake et al - and it lacks the views of its fellow tourist traps overlooking the Thames.
That's not to say that we didn't have a good time. Little Boots and the Greek God seemed intent on drinking their way through their jetlag - and doing a good job of it might I add. But given that the George is hardly likely to suffer through any criticism by me, I'll mark it down as one for experience. Old school in every sense of the word.
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