Enter The Pub, Leave the World Behind
Pubs like The Garnet are islands of comfort on a chaotic planet
When the world is destroying itself around you, take shelter in the pub. It’s been a fairly hectic working week, but my little emails and pieces of copy are nothing set against the backdrop of global disorder that has loomed over the horizon in recent times.
Thanks to provocation from the US and Israel, the threat of further violence in the Middle East is still very real. Meanwhile, UK media outlets and politicians continue to pretend Iran is responsible for the outbreak of the conflict, when in fact this all stems from Trump's abandonment of Obama’s JCPOA nuclear deal. In this depressing climate, when feelings of helplessness are inevitable, I found comfort in a very special pub: the Sir Garnet.
On the edge of Norwich Market, overlooking striped, slanted roofs, bargain clothing stalls, and boxes overflowing with fresh fruit and veg, the Garnet is an island of calm in a city centre which is admittedly already quite calm. It first opened as a pub in 1861, on the premises of an old butcher shop, a lineage that was reflected in its early name: the Baron of Beef.
The pub became The Sir Garnet Wolseley in 1874 in reference to the British Field Marshal, whose military efficiency led to the coining of the phrase "everything's all Sir Garnet" (meaning all is in order). That origin story, which centres the pub as a place where all is in order, seems fitting.
In his excellent zine Pub Hauntology, my good friend and fellow pintsman Ethan Keating writes:
"Being in a pub requires a degree of performance: there are rites and norms which are commonly accepted, known more through the effects of their transgressions than in their own right."
Here, he pinpoints why pubs are so great for escaping from the outside world. It's not just the broad concept of the third space, the flashes of history you get by glancing at the walls, or the mildly intoxicating effects of the beer (although those do tend to help).
It's the fact that on entrance, you jump headfirst into the role of pub-goer, allowing the customs and habits you've imbibed over the years to ground you in the present and drag you away from external matters like humanity’s impending doom.
There's plenty in the Garnet to keep you occupied during this period of liminality. The 17th-century Grade II-listed building (reputedly a former townhouse) is divided into several floors, with rickety stairs twisting between the pub's different levels, offering a newly bepinted punter ample opportunities to settle in a nook, or take a gamble on the next floor.
Wind your way up to the boozer’s summit and you're greeted with a delightful view over the market roofs and the cobbles of Gentleman's Walk. On the level below, a side door opens up onto a sloped terrace enriched by the smells of stone-baked pizza and onion bhajis wafting over from nearby market stalls. The Garnet's beer is also excellent, with the historic Great Yarmouth brewery Lacons always taking up at least one of the three cask handpumps.
When the 1884/85 Ordnance Survey map of Norwich was produced, there were more than 30 public houses in the market area. Now, the Garnet is the only one left. You can see why it's stood the test of time.
Let's just hope that in another 140 years, when future megolomaniac global leaders are threatening war, and some unborn technocratic British Prime Minister is sitting on their hands and insisting that "Israel has the right to defend itself", someone else finds the time to settle here and shelter from the outside world.
Hit the button below to subscribe to Meanders, a free newsletter by Fred Garratt-Stanley exploring travel, culture, politics, and more.