Naming convention:

Other examples, such as The Lennox verses the
Rivoli, came down to what came first. The Old England Bar was more commonly known locals as The Frog Pond. The Richard Cobden is forever The Cobden simply because its quicker to say than its full title and not harking back to when it was The Cobden Arm's

To alleviate the problem of trying to remember a pub's 'once given' name, We have created a list of all the variations I could find that link to what that pub or building is today. You'll find this option in the top title bar in a box marked 'Search' or click here.

Beyond Worthing

Yes we've chosen one or two pubs that fall outside the normal Worthing catchment area but are near enough to be known by name with locals. This includes the bottom of Findon village and the edge of Ferring.

Hotels

This was a difficult one as some hotels welcomed non-patrons and became regular haunts for locals whilst others remained more low key or exclusive.

Clubs

Another conundrum. Whilst not pubs, they certainly were drinking establishments, but favouring lager and cocktails rather than ale. A new page is being constructed to include nightclubs and members only.

Breweries

Their have been a few and so to that end, a section will be made for their attention in due course

How this site came about

It started in a pub, of course. I used to be a regular weekend town drinker in my youth when cigarette machines and Watney's Red Barrel were commonplace. In my befuddlement of the period, I paid little attention to the establishments themselves - their history of no interest and cameras took film - expensive to develop, subsequently not something one carried, unlike today's digital equivalent. Sadly, drinking and roaring around on motorcycles eventually had to stop, replaced with a wife, children, and a car.

Some 30 years later, I purposely set foot inside a pub once more, this time to discover for myself the allure and rising interest in Real Ale. The place was the Selden Arms opposite the huge gasometer (now gone). Michele, the Landlady, was very welcoming. After confirming my growing liking towards the strange brews, I discovered that the walls were adorned with past pub pictures, or more to the point, local pubs, and not the usual paraphernalia.

This aroused my interest and after eventually finding my way home unaided, except the occasional guiding garden wall and lamppost, I set about on the internet trying to discover what had happened to them, some of which I had a foggy recall.

This was when I discovered . . . nothing. No one had bothered to keep track of our liquid repast with their smoke-laden laden yellowed curtains and crunchy carpets. No mention of the toilets, as my vocabulary proves to be inadequate for such a description.

Eager to correct this situation, I set about gathering as much information as I could so that at least a basic list, peppered with the occasional pictures, would be there on the Google-web for like-minded brethren to discover.

I see you found it.