Sunday, August 18, 2013

Enduring

Everything has a beginning and in the story I am about to tell I know about the beginning because I was there, at the start of an unforgettable era.

It all began for me on a rainy autumn night, I was in my early twenties, down on my luck, unemployed, recently out of my first long term relationship and in all honesty feeling lost. As I sat with glazed eyes, motionless in front of the television my dad urged me to go and do something, to get out and get some air and then he suggested to go down to the local pub. It was a pub that I'd gone to in those long summers of the seventies with my parents, content to chase other kids around on the grass or play games of hide and seek. In later years I passed it daily walking to school and on a wet night back in the early 1990's or it may have even been the closing year of the 1980s I found myself walking through the door into this pub, into what was called the 'tap room' or games room as they were sometimes known. Tap rooms were usually sparsely furnished in any pub and usually contained the regular drinkers from the surrounding area. This pub wasn't any different, I opened the doors, was met by a sea of strange faces and blinking like a nervous owl made for the bar.

A strange guttural noise punctuated the noise of chatter and glasses clanking, I didn't realise it was aimed in my direction. I heard it again and a huge mountain of a man asked me if I 'was on of the 'black widows?'. Confused and nervous I wasn't sure what to do but was beckoned over by the grinning giant and asked if I'd seen the Clint Eastwood film 'Every which way but lose?'. Nodding hesitantly I wasn't sure what to expect and he added that because I had long hair I reminded him of one of the biker gang members from that film before making the strange noise again and breaking into laughter with the other patrons. He beckoned me to sit down and join them, gingerly I sat on the edge of their group and in no time I was chuckling with them and playing pool. I went home drunk at the end of the night but my spirits were lifted, the night had been the tonic I needed, laughter and some great company.

From then on I began to frequent the pub regularly, the company was infectious, the locals earthy and hard working and I guess for me that's how it all began. The pub was called the Ravensdale Hotel though it was no longer a hotel just a pub that sat on the edge of an estate that in the 1970's had something of a reputation.

The path to rebuilding myself after my first big relationship had somewhat unconsciously began. As the months dropped off the calendar I began to get to know other people in the pub, the hard core regulars were always there but new people began to appear around my age. I think Eddie, Steve and Bryan were probably some of the first, followed by Daz and then in the coming weeks a long list of others too numerous to mention followed. Friendships soon flourished, countless games of pool came and went and the juke box never seemed idle. The truth was I couldn't get enough of the place. The early 90s ushered in different sounds and fashions, we'd crowd around the small colour tv watching football world cups and laughter and nonsense was never more than a few seconds away. I knew everyone in that tap room, from young to old. You could go in at any time and there'd always been someone to talk to. 

Friendships became deep rooted, sure we often had squabbles between ourselves but it was usually down to the drink rather than clash of personalities, a nights sleep and it was always forgotten. Many adventures were had both in the pub and other places. We went to Amsterdam, camping trips and in later years a group of us went off to Thailand. I'd literally be here all day typing if I tried to convey it all, and I don't think I could convey it all because I wasn't sober all of the time! I wasn't a alcoholic by any means, and sometimes I'd have to steer clear of the pub until the weekend if I was working shifts. It was however a second home. A place of refuge when my parents split up and I'd go there to avoid the rows. In truth I guess I had my moments of idiocy in there and so did others but it was always forgotten because people always knew the real you and stuck with each other through life's problems, such was the nature of friendship and camaraderie in there. It was a pub of character and indeed great characters, I'll never forget some of the antics we got up to and people like the late great Gerry Shannon who could make people laugh effortlessly. 

I guess you could say we built our own little empire in there but it was very much an empire of the mind  .... and of enduring friendships.

Yesterday I found myself driving to that very pub, by my side was Macca. He's a fine fella and great personality, I think he moved over to where I live now just before me, he's married with kids and a fireman. As we drove over we soon began to talk about the past and the characters and adventures. It dawned on me I'd not seen some of them in years. The occasion was Macca's 40th birthday that he celebrated recently and today many of those from that golden era were reuniting for it. 

The Ravensdale has long changed, it got knocked through and refurbished in  2002. It's now a family orientated meal pub but still retains some locals and shows sport on flat screen tv's. Sadly it doesn't feel the same, the last night of the old Ravensdale was 11th of May 2002 and a few years after that I relocated to where I live now.

Memories and true friendships never fade, in fact they remain constant, even though I hadn't seen some of the guys for years when I arrived yesterday it actually felt like I'd not seen them in weeks. I felt all warm and fuzzy inside and I can't describe how good it felt to be around old friends again. Sadly with driving over there I wasn't drinking, and I've cut the beer for a while for health reasons and my recent fitness regime but that didn't change how fantastic it felt to see most of them again.

Mansfield may not be my home anymore, The Ravensdale is no longer my local pub but the friends and fellowships I made from that place endure, I feel proud to have all of them as my friend.

As I drove back home in the dark rain filled night after spending a good four hours or so with them I felt quite melancholy but then as memories of the good times filtered into my head from the nights conversations I was instantly lifted, and I also smiled knowing many of them would have hangovers from hell today!

I'll be back over that way to see some of them again soon, and I suspect that more adventures are yet to be had.

The Ravensdale as it was on its last night prior to closing in May 2002.