Drink to us Boris- April 12 is the day for the great British pub crawl.

 Drink to us Boris- April 12 is the day for the great British pub crawl. 

So it can be officially confirmed. April 12 is the day that marks the return of the great British pub crawl. Nobody could possibly have believed that that day would ever arrive and if there are any of us who may find ourselves sober by the end of the day then we may have to send out a search party. Now the chances are that most of us have now reached the stage that anything that used to resemble the customary routine of over our lives is now a delicious reality.  

They will be counting down the hours and days before the pub opens its saloon doors, welcoming in those seasoned alcoholic tongues, grabbing hold of that much longed for tray of the nectar amber and just getting completely blotto, intoxicated by the thrilling thought that drinking is back on the British menu. For the first time in what might have seemed many years let alone just the one year, the British pub customer will be reaching out to the barman or woman, spending their hard earned money and downing as many pints as they can possibly handle. 

A couple of days ago British Prime Minister Boris Johnson, who now looks like Robinson Crusoe on a desert island, will be taking himself off to the pub and drinking himself into a stupor and then encouraging the rest of the nation to do likewise. He informed most of Great Britain of his decent intentions and said that he'd raise a glass of Guinness to those stunningly conscientious NHS workers who'd cared for us, saved his life and wrestled with the most colossal crisis that any of us can ever remember. 

By now of course Prime Minister Johnson looks as though he's had enough, that all those mental and emotional resources have been pushed to the limit and beyond. By his own admission, the hair is crying out for help and sustenance, the face worn and the general appearance gaunt, white with exhaustion, a man desperate for something good to happen and running out of ad libs, prompts and analogies. His heart is obviously willing and there is a sense that he's probably done as much as he can do. But the comparisons and metaphors are dwindling by the day and the Latin phrases are noticeably thin on the ground. 

On Monday he promised the nation that he'd raise a toast to those who have suffered interminably for over a year, ensuring that everything would be done to provide Britain with some much needed cheer and long term happiness. Then we would all just swallow down breweries of lager, several scotches, whiskies, a bountiful sequence of hearty brandies and, understandably, a whole row of glasses of gin and tonic just to prove that he knows what Britain has been through. Cheers Boris. 

There is something quintessentially English about the drinking culture. We've been drinking since the Middle Ages to the point where we simply can't hold any more without staggering, stumbling and then collapsing to the ground, our minds now completely influenced by the demon booze. Monday will be Boris's day of judgment, our day of reckoning, the moment when Britain can finally come up for breath at long last. 

For centuries booze has been that one source of celebration, consolation, redemption and salvation when it looked for all the world that things would just crumble to dust in our hands. We drink of course at weddings, barmitzvahs, funerals, family gatherings, barbecues or just for the sake of getting very merry or tiddly. We drink because previous generations have found it be perfectly acceptable and respectable. Our uncles and aunts drank like fish so why shouldn't we follow their lead? If you drank a skinful you would gain instant status and recognition in your peer group so why not. Everybody else does. 

At the beginning of the 20th century, families and colleagues would stand around the pub pianos, sawdust on the floor of that pub before breaking into song. Men who'd just finished a punishing shift in the mining collieries and shipyards would swing open the pub doors, demand that the barman pull the pumps quite energetically and then, with cloth cap on head and the tightest waistcoat, launch into a whole variety of music hall favourites. The Industrial Revolution was underway and Britain was drinking the night away without a care in the world. 

And yet for the first time since March 2020 and with a temporary return to business at the beginning of last autumn, the Great British pub will become a hive of activity again. On Monday, the pub culture will become an integral part of  Britain's way of life again. It'll seem strange and yet curiously familiar since many of us may well have forgotten how to enjoy ourselves again in the pub even though we know who we are and how to conduct ourselves.

It may seem the world has now become a very different one to the one we were accustomed. The pubs of course will be there, as an attractive building with the same windows, doors, seats and pictures on the wall. Essentially the atmosphere will be much the same as it always was. And yet things will not be the way they used to be because now our mindsets and sensitivities have now been taken to the edge and almost thrown into complete meltdown. Will our psychological approach to drinking with our mates ever feel right anymore or will we just become very wary, more careful and circumspect? 

It is hard to imagine exactly what'll happen when the landlord declares last orders and it's time to head for home. Boris may well be onto his 64th pint of Fosters or Carling by then but then you could hardly blame him for this evening of riotous debauchery. It isn't often that global pandemics rip a large hole through the world fabric. So maybe we'll join Boris for several swift pints and the chance to re-build the foundations of a society that must have feared it would never be able to function ever again. So Boris, cheers my man and mine is anything celebratory and richly alcoholic. We will not go overboard of course but we do want to re-connect with those who mean the world to us. Monday can surely not come quickly enough.