Secret Drinker reviews The Raymond Mays in Bourne
There seems to be a big online debate brewing about queueing in pubs.
While it’s probably just the latest attempt for the blue tick brigade to force engagement and grab a few more pennies out of Elon’s mission to Mars coffers, it has - as most culture war nonsense does - got much more than the chattering classes chattering.
On one side we have the people who enjoy this current trend of waiting in line, maintaining a natural balance and giving everyone a fair crack at getting their order in when it’s actually their turn.
On the other are those who think we should go back to how things were, a large crowd being kettled five rows deep at bar where it’s every man for himself - or survival of the fittest if the bloke serving at your section is one of those guys who just happens to make a beeline for the pretty young ladies first.
Like all heated internet debates, the line appears to be drawn between pleasant people who have a sense of community and belligerent twerps who who are happy to trample over everyone else to suit themselves.
Although few things are as soul destroying as walking into a bar and spotting an enormous queue (airports are comfortably the worst), I have to say I find it much more preferable than the free-for-all.
At least you can avoid the push-in pillocks who believe shouting ‘mate… here mate’, sticking out their elbows and waving a folded £20 note in between their fore and index fingers gives them the right to be seen next.
At least you dodge the heartbreak of the moron in front picking up three pints in two hands and turning to exit the wrong way, allowing four cretins from the wings to filter into the space that was rightfully yours while spilling half his beer pint onto your shoes.
At least you know where you are in a queue, rather than thinking you’re next only to discover the gang of six teenage girls are all going to pay for their Bacardi Breezers individually. With the exact change.
That’s my opinion, but if your mind is not yet made up yet, may I suggest you head on over to The Raymond Mays in Bourne, where bizarrely you can try both methods.
I entered a bustling pub and headed to a bustling bar where I joined a group hovering in an attempt to get a drink.
“Who’s next?” asked the barmaid.
“I am,” said a young lad who most certainly wasn’t and had no interest in allowing the poor, polite and patient lady who had been there much longer to go first. To rub salt in the wounds he ordered three pints of Guinness.
With just two members of staff serving a very healthy group of punters things took their time, even before the black stuff was painfully poured.
But before they got round to serving me, a very weird thing had occurred. The drinkers at the far side of the bar had naturally formed into a queue while my side still had all the organisation of an Erik ten Hag starting XI.
“You couldn’t get pissed here,” the old boy next to me quipped as we continued to wait.
“Your last drink’s out your system before they get to you.”
It turned out my new mate was over for the day from Kettering and bemoaning his local boozers, had decided was the issue was caused by table service ordered from mobile phones taking up the time of valuable bar staff.
Ah, pub apps. While convenient, they are the boozer’s version of walking into a Burger King, seeing three other people and thinking you’ll be tucking into your Whopper any moment; forgetting the 60 people who are sat in the drive-thru or lazily getting a bloke on a moped to bring their food to their homes somehow take priority over the customer who’s bothered to make it to the counter.
Whether this was indeed the case or not at The Raymond Mays - named after local racing driver and entrepreneur Thomas Raymond Mays - I do not know.
But I do know that bar service was slow and the collecting of plates and empties was even slower on the occasions it occurred.
When we walked in it was great to see the place thriving, only a couple of two-seat tables were free indoors so we opted for the one which didn’t have two almost-finished meals stacked up next to a few glasses waiting to be removed.
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When we left around 45 minutes later those plates were still sat there, as were many, many more scattered across numerous spots which had also been vacated in that time.
Near to us a lone woman sat at a table at which I counted 10 empty gin glasses and associated drained tonic bottles. I hoped she wasn’t alone and her friends had just nipped out for a fag, not just for obvious health reasons but because if a table isn’t cleared in the time it takes me to drink G&Ts into double figures then questions need to be asked.
All this was a shame really because I think The Raymond Mays is comfortably the nicest JD Wetherspoons pub I’ve ever been to.
It’s modern, spacious, well-lit, very clean and, in stark contrast to the Wethers cliche, there aren’t 5,000 steps to the gents. There isn’t a single one.
The place was beautifully designed, nicely decorated and the outdoor seating area eyecatching.
The place had a lovely mixture of punters - from newborn to pensioner - and, contrary to my previous claims about this chain, a nice, lively vibe.
It juts needs more staff which is a shame really as, if I had to recommend just one Wethers to you, it would be this one. Form an orderly queue guys.
THE RAYMOND MAYS, NORTH STREET, BOURNE, PE10 9AB
DECOR: A nice, well lit, open, good looking pub with a lovely outdoor area. 4/5
DRINK: I had a pint of Milestone Lion’s Pride (ABV 3.8%) a traditional English ale that wasn’t bad. 3/5
PRICE: I paid a very good £1.99. 4/5
ATMOSPHERE: The place was busy and friendly. Even the queue at the bar was lacking in the usual side-eye and sighs. 4/5
STAFF: The lady who served me was friendly but quickly off to serve someone else as the staff seemed overworked. 3/5
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