Turnpike Lane

Catch 22

Wellington Terrace / Green Lanes, Turnpike Lane, London, N8 0QY  

Date of Visit : 1st February 2007
Approx. Time of Visit: 8.00 pm

Route Used: Piccadilly from Wood Green
Distance Travelled : 0.62 miles

Guests: None
Clientele: Suckers
Pub Number : 191

Characteristics	Rating	Comments
Ambience		OK music, slightly studenty
Facilities		Pool (£1.50), Itbox, big screen
Ladies		Few fatties and low quality students

OVERALL

Co-ck Jockey's ahoy!

After a few aborted trips up the side roads that come out of the Turnpike road system, we happened upon the wannabe up-market bar, Catch 22. With no other options in sight, we entered. The place was of a reasonable length, but fairly narrow with tables all around and a big screen at the end with a pool table in a slightly separated section. Tim went to the bar and after waiting for ages to be served (the place was virtually empty), he came back in disbelief with our most expensive round yet. The lack of Guinness had forced a Magners, which is expected to be costly, but the killer was the price of the soft drink (Foster's), which was exorbitant, especially given the local area. We tutted again once we saw the price of the pool table, but decided to play anyway, with JJ rounding off a 3-0 overall victory for the evening. A couple of chaps came over and took over the table once we had finished and we had chance to check out the surroundings in a little more detail.

Glitterballs and neon lights filled the place giving it a slightly clubby feel. Also plenty of studenty types were here and all of the baggy jeans, spotty face, grungy variety. We couldn't work out why they would come here to pay these prices until we noticed a couple of magazines left on a nearby table. A quick perusal revealed that we had in fact walked into our second MD gay bar and there was some free "Man Bongo" for the punters! The students were obviously here for kudos as well as the odd fag hag. Now the karaoke till 1am ("You've got to sing it to win it!") started to make more sense. I took one of the mags "for a friend", much to Tim's delight and we headed off shaking our heads. You've got to say that the gays are paying well over the odds there and its a kind of exploitation really. Luckily we didn't care and would never (ever) be back, as we headed off, ready for some meat eating, boozing, swearing and watching of Rocky (again). Next up South Ealing... 

Note the amusing placed magazine!!

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