Now, I know I said that Stationlink goes round all the mainline railway stations, but it should be noted that helpfully the bus also stops at Victoria Coach Station. Much to the continuing chagrin of anyone who ever tries to catch a coach out of London, Victoria Coach Station is sufficiently far away from the railway station and Underground to irritate the traveller with even the lightest of luggage. Just for a bit of extra confusion, there is a bus station in the front of Victoria railway station which has nothing to do with the coach station down the road. Our survey showed that 90% of staff time in the Tourist Information Centre at the railway station is spent trying to explain to bewildered visitors that they need to traipse ten minutes down the road to catch their coach, and even then it will stink of stale cigarettes and take forty-eight hours to reach Stonehenge (where the demons dwell).
Anyway, no such problem for us, since the bus dropped us off right in the coach station itself. The problem we were faced with, however, was where to find a nearby pub. Well, nearby, obviously, but were there actually any within walking distance? Fighting our way through an atmosphere charged with the fumes of a hundred National Express coaches, we had a quick scout around but we soon realised that we would have to visit something describing itself as the Pool Shack in Ebury Square.
As you can see from its exterior, the Pool Shack is very much going for an "American sports" theme and is basically a pool hall with some gaming machines, a bar and – before we arrived, at least – no clientèle.
The absence of both customers and music, in what should be a bustling environment filled with people slamming balls into pockets to songs like Rick Derringer's "Rock and Roll Hoochie Koo" and the Eagles' "Life in the Fast Lane", meant that this place was totally lifeless. Due to a strict schedule (in this one instance we needed to walk to the next stop to fit in with the Stationlink times) we ourselves didn't even make use of the pool tables. But we did have a couple of unprofitable games on the Battleships quiz machine, make use of their appalling toilets, and smirk at the barman's age (or lack thereof).
There was general agreement that the Pool Shack was a peculiarly bad establishment – Pad's exact words were "I'm never going there again in my life" – as can be seen from the scoring:
| Robert | 2 |
| Pad | 4 |
| Simon | 2 |
| Tim | 4.9 |
| Alan | 5 |
| Average | 3.58 |
We swiftly downed our lagers and stumbled out into Buckingham Palace Road to undertake the aforementioned schlepp to Victoria Railway Station.