The Westbourne (Arms???) was the spot where as a 17/18 year old I went with a mate and had my first pint. It was a rite of passage in those days of 1972, memory's hazy but it seemed to be a darkish, slightly run-down place, full of old fellers who gave the impression they would eat you for breakfast. I think we chose the Pub
because it was not so high-profile or busy as The Warwick down the road. The experience left a mark to this day, along with a faded recollection of how bitter it tasted for the first time.