Matt Turmaine

Yes, the legacy of pub names should be celebrated. It is sometimes disappointing to see the generic nature of venues in high streets. We can but hope that the interiors of those pubs continue to be sites of convivial and lively memory that can live on beyond the names. I mentioned that O’Neill’s was formerly known as the Flag. It was originally a hotel to service Watford Junction station, and I must confess to have occasionally made use of its facilities, including once when it provided much-needed sustenance to a delegation from a previous abode of mine in Hammersmith and Fulham. They, too, were delighted to avail themselves of its excellent food and drink. The Railway Arms in Bushey, which has close associations with the railway and those commuters who use it, once provided me with an opportunity to be sounded out about electoral issues in the run-up to the 2015 general election, in which I stood. In that election, I was able to relegate the Liberal Democrat mayor of Watford to third place, as Labour began its ascent back up the polls—a task that I fully intend to better at the next election. The Moon Under Water on the high street is a peculiarity as a heritage public house in that it was opened in 1995, but it has an awareness of its history that far transcends expectations. Many informative items decorate the pub, revealing the history of the town. The pub is run by Wetherspoons and is named after George Orwell’s fantasy pub. Wetherspoons’ website reveals: “In 1536, Richard Morison, the future owner of Cassiobury estate returned to England from his studies in Italy to work for the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Thomas Cromwell.” Richard was granted the manor of Cashio in 1546. His wife, Bridget, founded the Bedford almshouses in 1580 to house poor women from Watford, Langley and Chenies. They remain standing to this day, and I was able to enjoy hospitality at them on one of my visits there. Heritage comes in many forms, and it would be negligent not to mention the town’s famous nightclub, Pryzm, which closed a couple of years ago. The club has known many forms, and indeed names, and rather like which Doctor Who one grew up with, it dates residents of the town to an era—for me, it was Paradise Lost. Many patrons would emerge from that nightclub in the early hours of the morning, blinking in the artificial lamppost light, seeking either a kebab or a cab—an act that has now sadly past into history. I have also been able to attend a beer festival in St John’s church, an unlikely but enjoyable setting for the consumption of fine ales. As other hon. Members have said, it is important to remember that even as we pass on, heritage is still being built today. The Mad Squirrel, where I was delighted to take a delegation of SPD members from Watford’s twin town of Mainz in Germany, was a particular favourite. I will close by reflecting that last Saturday I was in the Estcourt Tavern in Watford, which is now run by Steven and Mel, formerly of the Southern Cross, to drown my sorrows following Watford football club’s lamentable defeat. One of the town’s long-established pubs, the refurbishment has been amazing, and I wish them every success with it. That venue was the site of another political interrogation, when I was quizzed about which Miliband I had supported in the Labour party leadership election of 2010—and so began a trajectory that delivered my election to this place.