24-hour pubs: the real story

Midnight, Blandford Forum, Dorset. In Australia the sun is burning down as Matthew Hoggard runs in to bowl a good length delivery, which Ricky Ponting plays forward defensively back up the pitch.

An unremarkable moment in sport, displayed on various screens around the bar of the Railway Tavern, goes almost unnoticed by a couple of dozen customers, as they continue to make the most of the new hours at the pub.

Almost 14 months earlier the Railway's licensee Nigel Jones had reopened the doors at midnight, one hour after calling time not just for that night but on a whole set of antiquated licensing laws.

If you remember, it was one of the many quirks of the 2003 Licensing Act that pubs which wanted to take immediate advantage of extended opening had to close the bar at 11pm on November 23, and open it again as the stroke of midnight triggered the official start of the new regime.

Nigel was one of the few who could be arsed to do this and, in theory at least, he hasn't closed his doors since. For the Railway Tavern, Blandford, is one of that tiny minority of pubs that populates the fevered nightmares of the Daily Mail. It's got a 24-hour licence and it knows how to use it.

Complex but rewarding

Although the complex duty rota for the five full-time staff runs from 11am to 4am the next morning, all barstaff are contracted, and bonused - they can earn more than £11 an hour - to work until the last customer leaves. This can frequently be 6am and not uncommonly 8am or 9am at weekends. On six occasions in the first year of its 24-hour licence the freehouse traded all the way through to meet the beginning of the 'next day'.

It has had a dramatic effect on trading figures. About 40 per cent of the Railway's turnover is taken between 11pm and 11am, hours when previously it would have been closed.

While part of this is down to people drinking later rather than more, the pub has also seen a substantial incremental increase in sales. In the 12 months to the end of September 2006, turnover rose by more than 50 per cent over the previous year to reach nearly £500,000.

And while the Railway is very much wet-led, food - the kitchen is now open all day until 3am - has seen the sharpest growth, up nearly six-fold.

So it seemed a good place to find out just what liberalised licensing means in reality, as opposed to the mass media imagination.

Nigel organised a cab for me from Salisbury station to the Dorset market town, a good 40-minute drive during which Richard, my dedicated cabbie for this strange night, pointed out various accident blackspots along a long and winding road Paul McCartney could have written a whole album about.

The first surprise on arriving safely at our destination (itself a fluke, if you were to go by Richard's risk analysis of the route) was that the Railway is not a prominent high street venue but a community pub hidden away in a narrow backstreet well away from the town centre.

Keeping the punters happy

Inside, though, it's clear this is no ordinary boozer. At some quiet point in the course of the following 10 hours I made a note of all the machines and technology in what is a no bigger than average pub. Here it is:

• two Sky channels (playing on a number of screens)
• an itbox (web-based SWP machine)
• a MaxBox (multi-function vending/cash machine)
• a digital jukebox (two million tracks)
• a cigarette machine (small footprint)
• a popcorn machine (latest addition)
• Buzztime (non-stop on-screen quizzes played on hand-held terminals)
• screens set in the beer fonts (playing Avanti's silent Magnetic channel)
• two fruit machines.

Then I made a note of all the traditional pub games on offer:

• darts
• pool
• shove ha'penny (slate board, dusted with arrowroot)
• West Country skittles (with 'skittle-cam')
• live music (two nights a week).

At least I wasn't going to get bored. And it is all a visible sign of how the Railway has made a success of the new licensing laws by working its square footage and working its opening hours.

When Nigel and Lorraine Jones took over the freehold early in 2003 the plan was to turn a struggling business around by developing local trade through a traditional method - sports and games.

Sixteen teams now base themselves at the pub, compared to six before, and it was, curiously, the shove-ha'penny teams in particular that prompted Nigel to go for longer hours.

"There was always a tendency for games to go on past closing time, which was causing a problem," he explains.

"At first I saw licensing reform as a solution to that. I only really expected to stay open for an extra hour or two - but it hasn't turned out that way."

The clientele

My own night at the Railway, being a Thursday the wrong side of pay day, was quieter than usual. But it still brought another surprise - the mix of clientele it attracts through the early hours.

Predictably, there were a few in to watch the cricket on the big screen, although England's performance was hardly encouraging a big match atmosphere. There were also shift workers, of course, denied a night at the pub under the old laws and now, at last, taking the opportuntity to lead a slightly more normal life.

A couple of squaddies had made the trip across from the army base at Blandford Camp, and on certain nights they would be reinforced by scores of others.

Interestingly, there were a crowd of staff from another pub in town, some still wearing the barstaff T-shirt, winding down with a drink after calling time in their own business, and there was even a barmaid from Blandford's remaining club, a regular at the Railway when her shift comes to an end.

One group of women had been for a night out in Bournemouth. A couple of them had been driving so when they got back they decided to have a drink or two at their local before retiring. A couple of non-drivers graciously elected to keep them company.

For as long as the pub is open you can also expect to find a local cab driver sipping coffee at the bar, ready to take anyone home. Cabbies are especially impressed with the new opening hours. Richard often works through the night just taking Railway customers home.

Perhaps most suprisingly, the pub is also attracting people in for a takeway - and a drink while they're waiting. While shops in the town close at 11pm, the Railway kitchen stays open and the menu of pizzas, burgers and, yes, kebabs is designed for that late-night palate. It's a market Nigel is looking to develop.

Social responsibility

What all these customers have in common is their appreciation of the civilised nature of it all. Talking to them about it, the words 'continental' and 'relaxed' crop up most often.

To achieve that, though, the Railway's social responsibility measures extend beyond most. As well as not serving anyone who is drunk, soft drinks are put in distinct glasses, so you know who's drinking alcohol and who isn't. After 11.30pm staff aren't allowed to sell spirits without mixers, ruling out shots, and Red Bull comes off the menu too.

At weekends Nigel himself stands on the door from midnight to 4am to keep out any unwelcome elements.

In fact, Nigel hasn't had a night off since November 2005. If he was surprised by how well the locals have taken to 24-hour opening, he's now a great champion for what could well be the beginnings of a new British drinking culture.

"When you're abroad you see the locals staying up late," he says. "Why should this country be any different?"

By 4am on my night vigil all the other customers had left. It had been an early finish by the Railway's standards. By my standards I was already experiencing the early symptoms of sleep deprivation. Had a passing interrogator happened to grill me as I collapsed into Richard's cab at 5.15am I would have spilled more beans tha