Sitting in my local pub this afternoon I started wondering what makes a pub, any random pub, YOUR pub. I think we all have that ‘go to’ pub whether it’s for a beer with some mates, a coffee with your grandma or a meal for two with your partner. We have two pubs that we love to go to; our local and closest pub, which we often go to over the weekend for a meal, drinks or to catch up with friends or family and another pub which is a 20 minute bus ride away that holds more meaning to me and my husband, as it’s the first place he ever took me out and it’s where he proposed to me.

But what makes a pub (four walls with a bar, scattered tables and the odd drunken bloke sitting quietly in the corner mumbling to himself) the pub that you call yours? What makes it that special place you chose to spend your well earned money in for those special occasions and lazy weekends?

Honestly, I think it’s a mixture of things. A clean environment is always a must, with clean toilets, because that’s definitely something that would put a lot of people off. Friendly staff and good customer service is vital to any profession that involves having customers to make a profit and I know if a member of staff is rude to me I’ll avoid that place in future which goes for retail as well. A good selection of drinks and food that is well cooked at a fair price goes without saying. Competition is fierce these days and I’d rather go somewhere for a meal that I’m going to enjoy and get my moneys worth than somewhere that will serve burned or undercooked food at extortionate prices. These things are all important but it’s also about atmosphere. All these things contribute towards it but between the staff, the other locals, the food, the decent pricing and it generally being kept clean and tidy, the best thing to have in a pub is a good atmosphere. It has to be somewhere you feel comfortable and can unwind in after a long week at work with a few beers, good food and good company.

These are the factors that make such amazing memories like my sister getting so drunk on her eighteenth that I had to take her to the bathroom to be sick and held her up all the way home, or when my husband, shaking like a leaf over dessert, asked if I could make him the happiest man on this earth and be his wife. Memories like these never fade so we keep loyally returning to that one pub we  call ours to make more memories.