Review

Within sight of the promenade, The Hop Poles resides in the middle of Middle Street – a marketing slogan not utilised by the pub – near the Brighton Media Centre and opposite an anonymous building that has a fleeting facade of a mosque, without the minarets and suchlike. A minaret would dominate the skyline and belittle the Brighton Pavilion’s domes.

A regularly jam-packed and fashionable pub, where doorstaff are present on busy evenings, entry is selective and queues to get in are fairly likely. In addition to the standard pub-junk, the recurring theme in The Hop Poles are sculptures made from car wheel trims. At the rear of the pub is a small, heaving outside area, which has a canvas roof and calor gas heater in the colder months and streaming sunlight in the summer. This variation on a beer garden has the character of a Zoo’s Reptile House, with lots of greenery and palm trees, and a full size crocodile/alligator climbing the wall. Don’t panic, as the crocodile/alligator is made from car Wheel Trims, and is as terrifying as an Austin Allegro-gator!

Undoubtedly, the most covetous item in the pub is not the huge, expensive stereo-system and gargantuan CD collection, or the lifeless, dead cat whose stiff body lies on top of a speaker like a muffler, nor is it the huge Faberge Egg (or is it a model of Phileas Fogg's balloon?), but the miniature Corgi Classics Austin 1300 Estate from Fawlty Towers, complete with branch-wielding Basil Fawlty. These models are still available, but they just seem incredibly rare!

The effect of drinking too much means the bottles behind the bar seem to stand at an angle 5° or so from upright, yet even if you’re a teetotaller, the bottles seem to stand at 5° or so from vertical. Amongst the collection of soft toy animals sits a large, life-size (!), Bagpuss, and close by is one of those annoying Japanese Maneki Neko – (lucky) beckoning cat – that just sits smugly and waves its paw. The cultural disparity is evident, as Bagpuss, representing the Brits, is a fat, unsociable, lazy good-for-nothing who sleeps and yawns and sleeps and yawns, and has a closed, clique of friends, yet the Maneki Neko, representing Japan, is wide-eyed, always active, and enticing all who pass to enter.

Throughout the pub, the standard push and pull signs on all the doors have been replaced by a graphic of an asexual human being apparently trying to push over or pull down a wall. The Hop Poles also doubles as a confectioner, as besides the large selection of draught beers, wines and spirits that cover the bar, a bar that looks like a pine kitchen, there is an immense assortment of sweets and chocolate on sale: jars of boiled sweets, Cadbury’s Crème Eggs, Cadbury's Caramels, Tunnock’s Snowballs and Mars Bars. A box of oranges is available for the health conscious hypocrite who sits quaffing beer, yet refuses chocolate.

Following a downturn in sales, Mars has revamped the Mars Bar, replacing the hackneyed slogan "helps you work, rest and play" with the blatantly sexual "pleasure you can't measure"; being that The Hop Poles is full of quality women, and a gay-friendly pub, pleasure you can't measure is a minimum of 6-inches isn’t it?

Review by mr_psm