The Florist Arms, E2

Date visited: 18th October 2020, rated 6: A first for us a few nights ago in this mid-19th century boozer which interestingly only gained its Arms in 2012. The exterior is of brown tiles but what really stands out is the very fine array of flowers which festoon the frontage from hanging baskets. It also very sensibly sports an old Watney Combe Reid brewer's roundel with stag motif to the Globe Road façade. Inside, and it's a slightly different matter. The floor is bare boarded but dark painted and scuffed. Like the Camel, there's red and black floral wallpaper with painted woodwork which is a bit chipped. There's much bare brick to the rear with mirrors and flashing lights, dark t 'n' g applied to the ceiling with the bar array looking authentic, sporting a brass footrail. Lighting comes in the form of hanging copper shaded lamps which would look more at home in a trendy wine bar; further lighting comes courtesy of fairy lights. There's music which played at perhaps too high a level for comfort and a TV was spotted, off. Furniture comprises modern but traditional pale furniture which is a bit World of Pine. This is combined with some very low slightly tatty brown leather sofas with coffee tables - indeed the whole ensemble is a bit tatty, a little like a dive bar. Customers were a mixed bunch with a group of rather sweary youths crammed into a corner - I get the impression that this is more of a locals' pub than the Camel. Staff were polite and very friendly, serving me up my keg pint of Five Points XPA at a very stiff £5.20. Real ale seems to have completely gone, but there are founts which seem to dispense German or Belgian beers. This pub is a bit of a curate’s egg. It certainly makes for a decent double with the Camel, but I know where I’d prefer to spend the evening. ------------------------------ A return last night (Saturday, 9.45pm) to find three pumps drawing ELB’s Jamboree, Foundation and Cowcatcher, £2.50 a half and rancid, served by a friendly barmaid; some of the customers in here – like my original visit – aren’t the type of company I’d prefer to keep; the Camel is next door.