Lord Nelson, Southwark, SE1

A garish if not quirky estate pub both inside and out, very busy on a Saturday evening so obviously appeals to a section of the community.The cask options amounted to a turned Landlord clip, there were craft keg options. The only reason I can see for coming here is the novelty factor, which I suspect would rapidly wear off.

This pub dates from the early 19th century when it was sited about 100m from here towards Blackfriars Road. Whatever the reason for its demise, the current estate-style pub dates from 1956. It’s not hard to miss on approach, as the exterior looks like it’s been bombed by a graffiti artist, works including an oversized pop art countenance of the bouffant Mr Tidy Beard that is Noel Edmonds next to a hamburger; what I was about to encounter matches earlier descriptions, ‘freak show’ being particularly apt. The interior is like no other pub I’ve experienced, with a massive explosion of Americana, kitsch, jumble, record covers glued to walls (including Aled Jones’ Greatest Hits), celebrity masks (including Sam Fox), pictures of Max Headroom and a door decked out as a shrine to the aforementioned Noel Edmonds, with stills taken from throughout his career. From the ceiling hangs bunting and flags and there’s disco lighting and loud music. The floor is part carpeted then tiled and furniture is utterly mismatched, tables adorned with catering sized plastic bottles of ketchup and barbecue sauce, but despite the mayhem, boasts a TripAdvisor hygiene rating of 4.5. Customers appeared to be drawn exclusively from various student faculties in the locale, some being ID’d; indeed, the overall ambience of the place was like a student union bar, but on LSD; I noted a sign offering student discounts. Unbelievably there was a real ale in the form of Ringwood’s Boondoggle at a very reasonable £2.55 a half, in very good nick, served by an efficient barman, who with his two co-workers coped admirably with the ample demands of their young charges. I’ve been in worse places than this, but towards the end of my half I’d actually started to warm to the chaos, which is clearly honest in its original madcap approach to hospitality. Obviously, this isn’t worthy of a special visit (or is it?), but it’s worth including on a crawl if only for the morbid curiosity value, but what is it with the obsession with Noel Edmonds?

Estate pub morphed into a freakshow covers it. Weird exterior and somehow even weirder once you get inside, well described below. I sat by the Noel Edmonds shrine. Estate clientele at the bar plus a few hipsters drawn in for the burgers. No real ale, the handpulls were covered by a plastic burger, fairly unusual selection of keg. Friendly staff and cheesy music. Bit of a sensory overload - but I quite liked it for a change from traditional boozers.

What clearly started out as an estate pub seems to have morphed into a freak show of a pub. The whole place is covered in all sorts of flashy bric a brac. Every inch of the wealls is covered in all manner of posters and prints, including Warhol's iconic Marilyn Monroe. The ceiling also doesn't have a spare inch to call its own with multi-coloured bunting, pom poms, fluffy toys, fairy lights, and even Charles and Di wedding tea towels hanging from it. Furnishings are similarly absurd - a sofa with a crimson throw, tall plastic covered tables one with a depiction of Arnie in Terminator mode, and some small, cheap looking stools. But they did a have a real ale on, which well exceeded my expectations as I entered the pub - it was Butcombe Rare Breed at £2.40 a half. And it was in excellent condition. I didn't see any menus on the tables, but I did see a sign that said they specialise in burgers. Surprisingly, I really didn't mind having a drink in this bizarre pub, although it's not the sort of pub to which I'd rush back.