​NEWCASTLE PUBS

Open less frequently than Anne Widdicombe's condom drawer, the writing was on the wall for this reeking scumfest for months. Its finally found its own level, flushed the U bend of Newcastle Pub history ......rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, oh, and enjoy the review. Should any creditors be looking for the operator... pop down to Bar 38 and ask for Peter.... station someone at the back door to be safe..

 

Another sure fire hit from Bowlt leisure, purveyors of discounted drinks to the underclass. If you thought that Flynns, winner of the sought after Shithole of the Quayside award for a whopping 7 years attracted scum, then brace yourself for Linkers. For the moment let's ignore the questionably legal Sky Sports Italia screening of football matches [actually there's no question about it at all, it s not legal]. Let's set to one side the multiple complaints about dodgy drinks promotions. What does this fine bar have to offer the discerning customer.

 

Well with all of the subtlety that the owners have shown in scummy ol' Flynns, a promotion offering shots for a penny is designed to ensure that customers don't notice that it's identical to it's predecessor Bar Box [somewhere which was in turn as appealing as the aforementioned Kerry Katona's Box]. 

 

Either too skint or too mean to refurbish the bar properly Bowlt leisure took the usual route of turd polishing instead. Though bizarrely [and at the risk of mixing metaphors] they managed the unique achievement of making a sow's ear from a silk purse. Bar 55 might not have been perfect, but with a reasonable range of competently chosen beers and the architectural merit of a replica Georgian shopping mall lining part of the bar it was a reasonable post work watering hole. It may have looked like the reception of a German Marriot hotel, but it was a Marriot hotel lacking in scary customers, shell suits and vomit.

 

Well Bar 55 is gone as, I suspect is the replica shopping arcade. It was initially replaced by Box's gyrating pole dancers, brilliantly placed to distract drivers on the roundabout. I suppose that the the residents of 55 Degrees would have welcomed the sound of crunching metal as a diversion from squawking charvers and emptying glass bins. However even that wasn't quite downmarket enough. Bearing in mind H.L. Mencken's axiom that ' Nobody ever went broke underestimating the taste of the ......public” Lineker's arrives, with all of the discretion of explosive diarrhea from a catwalk model in a thong and shits on the most famous access route into Newcastle. Imagine it, you're crossing the iconic Tyne bridge, and suddenly you have to brake to avoid a Lineker's customer pissing on the traffic lights - yes that did happen to me.

 

It might not be the worst bar in Newcastle..... yet.