This year, The Woodbourne pub celebrates its 125th birthday. Built in 1895, there have been punters cutting about The Woody since Queen Vic was on the throne. The Woody is one of the last real community pubs on the island, so it would be rude to not write a tribute to the jewel (or, at the very least, the unpolished diamond) of Douglas.
The Woody is split into four rooms: a blessing when you see an ex stumbling about, a curse when you realise your bestie has been sat in the next room the whole night. Each room is full of character(s): the recent refurb was essentially a deep clean, because God knows there would have been a kick off if there were any major changes. While you may have seating options, the best seat in the house is undoubtedly the turret, situated in the front bar. Big enough to fit all your mates and family, it’s the ideal spot to people watch. More importantly: it’s located next to the bar.
Outside, The Woody has a beer “garden”. While you won’t spot the area on the Chelsea Flower Show anytime soon, it does the job and shelters the smokers from the elements. Whack a few fairy lights and living plants, and it’ll be instagrammable- not that instagramableness is a particular concern of a lot of the regulars.
One of the best parts of The Woody is its community of locals. The regulars are deeply loyal to the pub, and so regular that you can set your watch to the time they turn up. Colin’s arrived? Must be 10:30. You can find them at the Gent’s bar, once an area exclusively for men, it now seems to be reserved for the locals, who will politely ask you to move when you’re sat in their “seat”.
Anyone who claims romance is dead hasn’t stepped foot in The Woody. Marriages have been made at the pub, with the most recent being one of the first weddings in the UK since lockdown. Looking to snatch someone for cuffing seasons? Forget Tinder hun, and hit one of the bars instead.
The Woody is pretty much a perfect pub, but if they want my improvements? ‘Bring back the bells Trevor.’