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A Tale Of Two Andrews

Andrew Butler
 

An epilogue to the second Annual Oxford Weekend of the Inspector Morse Society
 

Having had such a pleasant time during the official part of the event and with local accommodation booked for the Sunday night, our eponymous heroes (Messrs Kranich & Butler) decided that it would be a shame to give up enjoying themselves at the end of afternoon tea at the Randolph Hotel.

Once luggage had been stowed away, they set off for the Turf Tavern -one of the famous local hostelries included (albeit pseudonymously) among those frequented by the Chief Inspector himself. An unfortunate interlude delayed matters when the one who drives had to visit his car, which had been broken into, but they were soon drinking again, recapturing the earlier jovial mood.

What had been envisaged (by one of the participants, at least) as a gentle, inebriated winding down after coach trips and walking tours then turned into more of a high class pub crawl when the subject of the special new cocktail served at the Randolph Hotel was raised. Since it had been named in honour of Inspector Morse, it was not long before glasses of it were raised as well (and very nice too!).

Having confirmed the quality of the service and ingredients in the Chapters bar by means of the above and a couple of other exotically coloured drinks, the two then repaired downstairs to do much the same in the Torso bar of which, as they say, more later...

The next mini-pilgrimage was to the Eagle & Child (or “Bird & Baby”) - another pub familiar not only to Morse, but also Lewis (indeed, if one includes the author of the Chronicles of Narnia as well as the police sergeant, this latter should be in the plural) - followed by the first ‘repeat’ to enable Andrew Butler to keep up his tradition of drinking real cider in the Turf Tavern at closing time.

Luckily for both, but more especially Andrew Kranich, the Torso bar (situated in - but, apparently, independent in management from - the Randolph Hotel) stayed open later than a mere pub, so that is where they went to have ‘one for the road’ (more accurately: several ...).

The ‘star of the show’ - the main lure back to this particular venue for the affluent Mr. K. - was ‘Louis Treize’, the premium cognac from Remy Martin at a mere £110 per 50ml glass (yes, folks, that’s one hundred and ten pounds sterling: SERIOUS MONEY!). Your present author wishes he could describe to you the complex and exquisite flavour, but, for once, words fail, so, if you really want to know, you'll just have to fork out your own cash and try it ...

During their previous visit, Mr. B. had spotted a bottle of 1971 ‘vintage’ single malt whisky from what was then the Port Ellen distillery on the island of Islay and, going against the advice about mixing ‘grape’ and ‘grain’, countered the extravagant opulence of France with the sturdy peat reek of the Scottish Isles. Luckily, it was not too far to walk (stagger?) to the B&B ...

The next day - fortunately it was Bank Holiday Monday - dawned bright and sunny, but that was insufficient reason to risk a hangover by getting up prematurely, so it was about eleven o’clock when our chums met up again to continue their unofficial celebration of their hero’s gustatory habits.

A quick one in a Firkin pub near the bus station set them up for the journey out to Wolvercote (who missed that in the crossword?) for lunch at the Trout. There, the restorative powers of a mixed grill proved sufficient to support the quaffing of a further few pints and a wander round the special Inspector Morse bar, before another ‘quick’ one at a pub which shall remain nameless (because I’ve forgotten what it was called!) while waiting for the bus back into the city.

A final visit, this time to the King’s Arms (noted for the intelligentsia who have drunk there over the years and therefore ideal for ‘The Two Andrews’) really rounded off the long weekend properly before a sleepy return to the ‘real world’.

Those of you who missed out on this bonus binge shouldn’t be too downhearted: there’s always next year!

[Ed. This article goes to prove that attending an Inspector Morse meeting can seriously damage your wallet as well as your liver!]