Wet Wet Wet

A long weekend in London to take in some cricket, sights and restaurants did not quite go to plan as the weather gods continued to plague our time away from Scouse.

We had rain in Barbados, more rain in the Seychelles and even more rain, but colder, in Mauritius. Why should we not be surprised then when the first day of the test match at Lords was rained off without a ball being bowled?

This was the first full day wash out for 17 years and I suspect we were there for that one too. 1963 seems a long time ago since my first visit. Next year the Australians visit in what will be my 56th year. I wrote this piece in 2013

So when it rains at Lords all roads lead to  Crockers where we met old  friends and got squiffy. Next day we got caught in the mother of all storms on the SouthBank and got soaked so all in all the sightseeing did not go too well either.

We did manage a couple of good meals though. The first was in the Quality Chop House at the Farringdon end of Exmouth Market, the other was at old favorite, Langans, where the food seemed better than I remember it.

The hotel was not up to much but we did end the trip with cocktails in The Booking Office in the Conrad Renaissance at St Pancras Station.

No time for Grandkids, London branch as they are in Bulgarialand at the moment, but hot off the press they are moving to Switzeland at the end of the month where Mrs Bulgaria has got a new job. Number one son is sticking in there and going as well, with his firm keeping him on as a contractor. Watch this space for more news of their new adventure.

Figs, Sri Lanka and beer

I have discussed my Lord's attendance record here before, and the trend continues. I also wrote about the demise of Crockers Folly as long ago as 2009. That situation I am pleased to say has been reversed, but more on that later.

Going to Lord's on a Saturday has long been the tradition, but now I and SWMBO are available for recreational pastimes all week, we thought we would go on a Thursday for a change. We have suffered some dull Saturday's so some first day excitement would be good.

We were not disappointed either as Sri Lanka showed more steel than the first two tests and only a late century from Johnny Bairstow wrestled some parity back for England.

We punctuated out day with a mid match expedition to a local pub and were delighted we could revisit above mentioned Crickets. Eight years ago I wrote about it but it may have closed longer. It has been expertly restored to it's original but is now more a restaurant with a bar than the other way round. They welcomed the cricket crew willingly and had London Pride on draught. Bliss.

Life often has the habit of balancing highs and lows to keep everything in perspective. This weekend was no exception as our weekend started with a visit to my mate Figs. Figs and I have shared many days at Lords  as chronicled in the first link above, but I am now concerned we will never be able to so again.

A few weeks ago he was taken to hospital with a heart problem. His ticker has been less than 100% for some years but this incident saw him moved to Harefield hospital for a valve replacement and defibrillating pacemaker. Much like the young England cricketer James Taylor, has had fitted this week.

Unfortunately they did not think Figs was up to the op so they sent him home for strength conditioning and weight loss regimes. Sadly last week he suffered a stroke and has been in Atkinson Morley Neurological unit for several days. He has now been moved to Kingston for rehab. He has lost the use of his left arm and some movement in his leg. His speech is degraded and memory confused. It is all very distressing not least forMarion, his SWMBO.

They will scan him again in two weeks so lets hope there is improvement.

Chicken Korma and a pint of Pride

Well it was off to Lords on Sunday with number one son and wife for a spot of Twenty/20 cricket. With Middlesex having won their previous two games there was a smell of renaissance in the air, given they had lost their first seven contests. Things looked good with Sussex needing 26 off the last two overs, but as Chris Nash smashed Chris Silverwood all over the ground Middlesex finished as they started and are bottom of the South and South East group, and destined for second division 20/20 next season.




The trip did, however, allow me to see what developments had taken place at Crockets Folly, a wonderful establishment close to the ground, which had been a regular drinking hole at the test matches for me and many good friends, between the luncheon and tea intervals.

The building was constructed originally by one Frank Crocker, and was to be names the Crown Hotel. Frank knew his development was going to be a success. After all, the new railway terminus was going to be built opposite, how could it fail? Imagine Crocker's despair when the rail terminus was built, half a mile away at Marylebone. Broke and broken, so the tale goes, he threw himself from an upstairs window. The Crown became Crocker's Folly. Frank Crocker was a successful entrepreneur and the Crown a lavish testament to that. He was no newcomer to the pub trade either, having run the Volunteer in Kilburn which must have been successful for him to have the Crown built. The public bar is vast, the billiard room grand, but the jewel-at-the-Crown is the entrance hall saloon.

A late Victorian feast of marble, using fifty different kinds, covering not only the counter, but almost the entire bar. The chimney-piece is marble and has marble columns. Even the walls are lined in marble. All this, beneath a rich plaster relief ceiling.

So Folly or not, the place is now in major disrepair as it clearly struggled to survive on two or three major matches at Lords per year. It was purchased by an Indian takeaway chain who had a view of turning it into a restaurant, but my recent inspection showed leaded windows broken and the front of the property boarded up. It is grade two listed, and there were lights on upstairs, The new owners vans also populated the forecourt. Lets hope, therefore, that some new use can be found for the property before its magnificent interior falls into disrepair.