….meant that before about 1992, you couldn’t get a drink in London during the afternoon. Well, you could if you knew where to go. There were secret little “clubs” dotted around the West End, which often required a special knock or password to get in and my friend Brian Jones had discovered a brilliant one. I was to meet him and his mate Pete on St. Martin’s Lane and they’d take me there. When I arrived, Pete made me wear a blindfold “because we don’t want you telling half of London”. They then led me round a circuitous route of back alleys and up a rickety flight of stairs to this wonderful place, which this track always reminds me of. After about three hours, we emerged back on to the street. “Oh no!” said Brian when he realised he’d forgotten to make me put the blindfold back on. He’s been in Australia for 20 years but I’m having a drink with him later. I wonder if he can still remember where that hideaway was.
Arcane licensing laws dating back to the First World War…..

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