My local

It's rather nice actually, isn't it. A proper backstreet pub, one of the few remaining in residential roads, at least around here. As I understand it, the property to the left was originally a pub too, and bore the name The Prince of Wales, but this one has clearly carried that name for a long time.

I love those green tiles on pubs, and here they are, a gem on my very doorstep - well, literally three minutes away; I timed it this morning - and I hadn't been in there since about 1993. I used to live in the same road, in the flat above the fish and chip shop almost opposite (so it doesn't matter that the Prince of Wales doesn't do food; the barmaid didn't seem to mind a chap bringing his chips in the night we were there. What could be nicer, after a hard game of toad in the hole, than a pint of Harveys and some hot salty chips?)

There is one negative factor to report: those doors. I think they are still the original, wooden, doors, but they are most definitely not the original windows. Up until a couple of years ago, the original ones were still there, frosted glass with the words 'Saloon Bar' and 'Public Bar' spelled out in leaded glass. I remember how furious I was at seeing them removed, and the new ones are horrible; they don't even make an effort to be nice.

Still, we must be grateful that the tiles survive in nearly all (barring a few chips and screwholes) their glory.