Uxbridge Arms (Notting Hill)

Connor McLeod (Highlander)

I’ve seen a lot of change in my time. As an immortal you’ve gotta go with the flow and fit in. Were it not for my ability to incorporate myself into the ever changing environment, I would not be here penning this (and boozing) now.

Back in the 15 hundred's for instance, I was a real renaissance man; art, theology, music, you name it, I was a nailed-on free thinker; a pioneer. *In this period I added the inquisition (amongst others) to my list of foes,..but who’s laughing now!*

In the 17 hundred's I became a fop; a brainless dandy. Free from the burden of having to actually earn cash, I loafed around wearing make-up and acting gay. 19 hundred's? I was kicking-it with the natives and the Amish in the (then) New World,..and in the 1980’s I wore Farrah’s and was a big fan of Bobby Davro.

I adapt.

So,..don’t talk to me about boozers. Back in my day (my real day), a boozer? Well there was no such thing.

We liked getting tanked of course (back then). Would certainly take it if we could get it. Wouldn’t anyone, stuck out in the open, bang in trouble in the driving rain, with sword wielding maniacs following your every move! But in my era, my epoch, my millennium, it was very much a case of “getting lucky”.

If you found some rotting apples or stumbled across some slowly fermenting hops, you downed em there and then (where you stood), no matter whose land it was and to hell with the consequences. A sure-fire case of tightening your belt and doing a runner, with your fingers crossed.

So, I tell ya; you Sassanachs don’t know how lucky you are to have pubs! I’ve kicked around in the wilderness before believe me. I’ve been in desolate places (worse than South London and Perth station),.and I’m tellin ya; you don’t know what you’ve got (what you’re missing) till it ain’t been invented yet!
Pubs are to be cherished laddie. Och, they were the reason I moved back here, after about 30 years kicking-it Southern Hem style. However, like everything else it seems, boozing has moved on.

“Fosters top please.”

,…Hoxton, Notting Hill, Queens Park, Clapham, the list goes on – not a single one of em worth a dollar, just 25 years ago! Now look at em! Full of the type of places where, if your face don’t fit, you ain’t got a chance.

Now,…I’ve made a practice of making my face fit; I’ve had to! I’ve even joined that facefit.com to keep abreast of things; you know “poking” and such. I mean, for godsakes, I’ve even got a cockney accent these-days (being tired of all the “Sweaty” jokes). But Geez,..as soon as I got that stupid Hoxton-Fin haircut I had a moment of clarity. “What do you think you’re playing at Connor ole son!” I thought. "Surely you’re better than this!"

Attempting to ponce about in Trailer Happiness only made me miserable, getting ratted with my parrot in The Swan was just crap, and well,…take it from someone with Babylonian mates; who’ve actually been around, and who’ve physically shared the fruits; Beach Blanket (is) balls!

There comes a time when you don’t wanna make the effort, when you just wanna be yourself; it’s a superficial business after all – Trendy bars and Gastro Pubs - And it’s tiring,..oh so tiring.

So,.. if you wanna know MY choice of boozer in Notting Hill, well I’ll tell ya, it’s The Uxbridge Arms; no contest!

Having slayed a fair few Foster’s tops in here over the years; i’ve had a great craic. And I’ve even, on one occasion, split a bottle of sherry with the ole Kurgen fella,..during the infamous “Paddy’s Day Cease Fire” of (19)78. Great days they were,..great days. *He’s a bit of a card after a few!*

Yeah, The Uxbridge Arms; where no one cares if your jeans are “last season” or if your hairstyle is out-dated. Where you can wear your kilt and sport your head band, your lime green trainers and your Fila, without it being seen as an ironic statement.

“Cheers Sweetheart”

Connor’s advice (if you want it)? Put your ego aside, leave the swords at the front door and get down The Uxbridge Arms.

In terms of Notting Hill boozers,..well,..There can be only one!

*rummaging in sporran* ……………Now, where’d I put that damn i-pod!

Connor McLeod’s rating for The Uxbridge Arms – 9 / 10

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