Bugle Horn, The Village, Charlton

EVER since my recent visit to the Rose of Denmark, I expect every pub to have a fancy mirror in the toilets - especially those in Charlton.

But this was not the case when I went to The Bugle Horn, The Village, Charlton.

The gent's was very clean but there was nothing fancy in the mirror, so I got back to the bar for a pint.

I was pleased to see quite a few ales on offer and chose a pint of Adnams Broadside which was a little too warm for my palate but otherwise tasted like it should.

Sitting by the bar reading the paper gave me the chance to enjoy the banter of some of the other drinkers, which was the best banter I had heard for a long time.

My favourite comment, easily the best from any pubgoer for years, was from a man who sat on his own but shouted to his friends at nearby tables.

After joking that one of his friends looked like he was in the SAS they asked why he had not enlisted.

His amazing reply was that he was going to enlist but is now looking for a girlfriend in Woolwich. He also sang random bursts of the tracks playing on the radio.

It is overhearing these kind of gems which makes trawling the backstreets of Shopperland, for overlooked pubs worthwhile.

Appearance-wise the pub was a bit ramshackle reminding me of a mock-Tudor building but the lettering on one of the signs as I approached the Bugle reminded me of the Wild West and the gold rush.

But the staff were friendly and I get the impression it comes alive more on matchdays when it is probably less of a local pub for local people and more a watering hole for football fans.