The Beaconsfield

The Beaconsfield is a pub half-​buried in the pavement of Victoria Street with the gay club Pink directly opposite and the gay club Heaven next door. I imagine the place is suffocated by din and caterwauling at night but when I visited on a sunny afternoon I found the place perfectly subdued and affable. A buffet of some kind had just finished and the barmaid pressured us, with lashes of British politeness, to maybe have a sausage roll or a Scotch egg maybe? We declined for six seconds before deciding that… um…actually go on we’ll try one.
When we sat down she pressured us again and soon we caved in and scoffed down the plate of rolls, chipolatas and eggs like we’d wanted to since she first mentioned them. I think we filled our pockets as well. As for the actual pub, it’s an accommodatingly scruffy place with a bare wooden dancefloor and toilets as red as an embarrassed phone box’s tongue after drinking Tizer.
Never again will I underestimate how satisfying it is eating free food in a quiet pub watching the legs of pedestrians march past in the street outside. And nor should you.

The Beaconsfield is situated in an ideal place for nightlife, right on the corner of Victoria Street, you would think it would be booming at the weekend. I popped in here for a few drinks with work colleagues after spending most of the evening in Café Sports. I was surprised at how quiet it was, it felt a bit like a working men’s club rather than a city centre bar.
Karaōke was laid on for us, which was an unpleasant offering, it involved many drunken people slurring into a microphone, it had more of a dodgy wedding setting…
We made the most of a bad situation as it was a joint 40^th & 50^th birthday party, and we’d had a few drinks to say the least. We got up dancing and made our own atmosphere. In the end we had a great time, with no thanks to the surroundings. I would have given two stars but as I have fond memories from the evening, I was feeling generous!