The Six Bells, Headington, Oxford

This was apparently in part a house dating to the late 18th century, becoming a pub in the early 19th, named after the six bells in the church of St. Andrews, a stone’s throw from the White Hart, half a mile from here. On arrival I noticed the ‘You don’t know the half of it!’ women who had recently stormed out of the neighbouring Chequers, standing in the doorway and badmouthing someone, presumably the woman she’d left in tears on departing. The interior doesn’t seem to be of any note, with a pool table at left. What was inescapable though, was the incredibly loud Terence Trent D’Arby pounding out, to the accompaniment of a flashing laser light show coming from the rear. There’s a grey and white colour scheme and a floor that’s either carpeted or patterned tiled, with at least one games machine flashing away. Customers are very local, many really a bit drunk at 8.00 pm on a Bank Holiday Monday, the whole being a bit Lee Nelson whilst attending a tattoo artists’ convention. There was real ale here up to a point, with Abbot and GK IPA clips reversed, me plumping for a half of Stella at £2.25, served by an efficient barmaid. This is just about the most unappealing pub in all of Oxford, vying for the title with Headington’s White Horse. When in the Headington quarry area, the only sensible choice is the Masons.

A Greene King refit pub. An L-shaped interior, decorated in a number of brash colours. Pool, darts, overloud music and a number of muted flat screens. Grassed side garden. Toilets smelt bad and part of the false wall had been removed. Three ales, Abbot, OSH and Olde Trip (in decent shape). Strikes me as one for the locals who won’t drink in the Mason’s for whatever reason.