First Swing of the Hatchet

Despite living in Bristol for 10 years, I had never visited The Hatchet, Bristol's oldest pub.

That all changed last night when I was persuaded to down a pint of Pepsi at the ancient hostelry.

A work colleague who was also experiencing the inn for the first time, on surveying the large numbers of leather clad bikers and rockers present, and on being informed that the pub was apparently full of businessmen during daylight hours, remarked that he believed the clientèle were in fact the same people afternoon and evening. They merely went home to change in between visits.

"There are more accountants here than Satanists," he remarked.