….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…..

- Who would win...17th Jan 2014
- Why on earth ...16th Jan 2014
- To a screenin...14th Jan 2014
- You never hea...14th Jan 2014
- The other New...13th Jan 2014
- Did Spurs re-...12th Jan 2014
- American Hust...11th Jan 2014
- Sometimes the...10th Jan 2014
- One in the ey...9th Jan 2014
- How Cliff Ric...8th Jan 2014
- I went "home"...6th Jan 2014
- How can this ...6th Jan 2014
- It's my son's...5th Jan 2014
- RIP Phil Ever...4th Jan 2014
- One New Year'...3rd Jan 2014 prev next