Intoxicated by pub hysteria

Lord Snooty is alive and living in Lymington. It's the New Forest town in Hampshire where the residents are manning the barricades against the arrival of a JD Wetherspoon.

Tim Martin's pub group could be described as upwardly mobile as it prefers to transform the likes of redundant cinemas and banks into pubs rather than using existing licensed premises.

In the case of Lymington, JDW has applied for planning permission to convert a former furniture store into a pub. But Lymingtonians — the sort of people who think the Daily Mail​ is dangerously radical — are having none of it. The furniture store is next to the town's parish church, which they describe as "historic".

Historic is an over-used and much abused word. My big toe is historic, in the sense that it's been attached to my body for the duration of my life. But my big toe doesn't have any special rights as a result of its antiquity. Neither does Lymington's church unless it's a listed building — and a Google search doesn't report that the church enjoys listed status.

The god-fearing folk of Lymington have already seen off a planned Argos store and will have no truck with a JDW. The church website says the area's tranquillity might be disturbed by "intoxicated pedestrians". I like that term and will treasure it: you don't often come across the word intoxicated these days, unless you're going down Lymington high street.

It's an outrageous form of snobbery to declare that a pub is going to destroy the social fabric of a neighbourhood. It's also untrue. In my adopted home town of St Albans, Hertfordshire, JDW turned a restaurant and tea rooms, Waterend Barn, into one of its up-market Lloyds No 1 establishments. The barn dates from the 15th century and has raftered ceilings and half-timbered walls.

You could say it's historic. It is next to the Civic Centre and there could have been objections to the change of use on the grounds that council meetings and other important events are held there and may be disrupted by intoxicated pedestrians. But I've never heard of problems caused by people drinking in the pub.

Not far from St Albans, Letchworth is another town with ideas above its station. It was the first garden city, founded early in the 20th century. It inspired not only nearby Welwyn Garden City but also Canberra, which has the distinction of being the only boring place in Australia. Letchworth was founded by Quakers while Freemasons have also had a major influence over the town. As a result, pubs are few and far between. Its first "pub" opened in 1907 and sold only non-alcoholic drinks: Cydrax, Bournville drinking chocolate, tea and sarsaparilla.

The town held six referenda over 32 years and every one voted against opening a proper pub. It wasn't until 1957 that Charrington was allowed to build the Broadway Hotel but that wasn't a proper pub.

Anti-pub snobbery​

Even today Letchworth, with a population of 33,000, has just seven pubs. One is a JDW outlet, but I've heard no reports of intoxicated pedestrians.

The most extreme example of anti-pub snobbery comes from the Essex seaside town of Frinton-on-Sea. Even though it's close to the kiss-me-quick resort of Clacton, Frinton is notoriously up itself. It's inhabited by mainly retired people who won't allow ice-cream to be eaten on the beach. It's one of few places in Britain where the United Kingdom Independence Party (UKIP) enjoys solid electoral support. Someone — who deserves a knighthood — once described the region as having "Harwich for the continent and Frinton for the incontinent".

You might think, with such a reputation, that Frintonians would welcome a place with public loos, but it was only in 2000 they gave in and allowed Shepherd Neame to open the Lock & Barrel. Frinton has a population of 5,500 but 10 years since the opening of the Lock & Barrel it still has just that one pub. And you still can't eat ice-cream on the beach unless you hide your wafer behind a copy of The Daily Telegraph.

There were no known objections when JDW opened the Miller's Well in East Ham, east London. The pub offers relief for supporters of West Ham United — the ground is a mile away. The Boleyn Tavern is next to the ground, a place of cut-glass Victorian splendour but no decent beer.

I like the Miller's Well as it disproves the theory that football fans drink only lager. We can drown our sorrows with Abbot and other cask ales.

Even though away fans have been known to drink in the pub there's never trouble. But don't tell that to the people of Lymington. "Intoxicated football pedestrians" — now there's a terrifying thought.