Friday's Bar, at the Adelphi, Liverpool

Sep 1 2007 by Mike Chapple, Liverpool Daily Post

THINGS don’t always go according to plan in the Pub Column.

Yours Truly had arranged to meet Grantie of the Echo and his girlfriend Tugboat Cath at this week’s initial choice which, for the sake of all concerned, shall remain unnamed. It was teatime and, after a welcome escape away from the clutches of Castle Greyskull, thoughts were on a relaxing drink in good company. But on approaching the chosen destination it was a surprise to see the dynamic duo sitting outside sharing looks of trepidation.

Before any enquiry, Grantie gripped the arm and whispered fearfully: “For God’s sake, man, if you value your sanity – and your lugholes – don’t go in there.”

Then I understood. Through the doors boomed out a half- familiar introduction of tinkling piano keys before horror dawned appropriately enough with the words: “At first I was afraid, I was petrified . . .“

Pop pickers will know this as the opening line of that most popular of hen night party karaoke squawkers, I Will Survive. But this was no Gloria Gaynor singing. Think of a tone deafness to match Arthur Mullard on You’re The One That I Want mixed with the high pitched screams of Elsa Lanchester in The Bride of Frankenstein and you get the picture.

It was time to move on. But where, with the PC deadline looming and no particular place to go that hadn’t been done before?

Grantie’s suggestion proved to be a masterstroke.

We’d been going in the Adelphi Hotel’s drinking hole Friday’s for a number of years but, despite it being a popular and most welcoming institution, there was something a little, well, nondescript and shabby about the place, despite it being part of a grander home.

What a difference a spruce-up followed by a smoking ban can do to a place.

The beauty and subtlety of the job is that Friday’s has kept its status as the only hotel bar that we know of that has retained the intimacy of a pub.

The huge central bar with its barley twist pillar supports can now be viewed in all its Art Deco style magnificence, thanks to the place being “decluttered and lightened”, an expression used by DIY expert Tugboat, who is a big fan of TV programmes such as Extreme Makeover.

The walls have been painted in bright, satisfying shades of “cream and duck egg blue” (thanks again, Tugsy) while the high-backed wall seats have been cleaned or completely refurbished.

An added, and some would say incredible, bonus is that for a hotel the bar prices are refreshingly cheap. We’ve all been in the situation when a round of hotel drinks usually warrants an emergency call to Fort Knox for a special bullion delivery. Not here. In fact, in the daytime “happy hours”, a pint of bitter or ordinary lager has been pegged at £1.10.

Was that a jaw clanging on the floor?

“We’ve had the work done in cleaning the place up but kept our traditional values and all our older customers who sometimes stay all day here,” said the super-efficient 26-year-old bar manager Stephen Richardson who, despite his tender years, single-handedly manned the busy bar on our visit with veteran precision.

It gets even busier on Grand National Day and most recently at last weekend’s Beatles Convention when, on the Sunday, Friday’s was chock-a-block with Mop Top boppers which made it the envy of all the other city centre pubs left empty by the Mathew Street debacle.

On this evidence, they’ve got a lot to be envious about.

Meanwhile, yours truly quietly thanked Grantie and, er, luck for Friday’s.