The Barley Mow: A "fan-bloody-tastic" cultural scene

The pub: The Barley Mow- 39 Castle Road PO5 3DE

The pint: Old Speckled Hen Ale

The price: £5.75 (within the typical price range for Portsmouth, a bit steep but I've seen worse).

Just off the common and on the corner of Southsea's stylish and artsy Castle Road, a small pub sits at a junction. While not a particularly old building, the stylised antiquated typeface spelling out its name above the door, and the old wooden windows set in beams and concrete give it an air of rare antiquity and a quaint period feel. A sign outside boasts its featuring in the Camra Good Beer Guide in 2023 and the award winning real ales available to buy. The lights are on and it looks welcoming.

As I walk through the door, the sounds of animated conversation, clinking of glasses and announcements at the bar can be heard. They are having their pub quiz tonight and the place is packed (usually only having attended this pub on a quiet evening with my SWP comrades, I have never seen it so full). Naval memorabilia, photographs of the history of Portsmouth and notices presenting the latest community news line the walls. A scene from the Battle of Southsea is painted on the wall, and a victory ship is displayed in a corner. A portrait of Mow (the pub cat who recently passed away) is on another wall. This is your textbook local pub. The sort where friends and neighbours meet, and in which the bartender would remember every face (one of them recognises me from being with the SWP and knows my preferred wine). 

After exchanging a few words with 28 year old naval worker Peter*, this sentiment is clear. As someone who struggled a lot with loneliness in the navy and when constantly moving throughout the country, he sees the pub as a "place of refuge and peace" and says Portsmouth "makes being in the military easier". He then goes on to talk about the "fan-bloody-tastic" cultural and music scene for the pub. He thinks it caters well to his age and demographic.

I walk over to the packed bar and order my pint. The frenzy of those queuing is clearly apparent. I notice the ubiquitous sigh of one of the bartenders; she fears her efficient industrious process of making drinks at the bar is being delayed. This doesn't seem like a pub at risk of losing its loyal visitors any time soon and gives me hope for the future, in that community venues such as this may not always be in decline. As I helpfully tell one confused quiz participant the three small territories at the top of the South American continent (Suriname, Guyana and French Guiana), I feel a sense of pride in my local community coming together. This is Portsmouth for the past, present and future.