I've had some arduous assignments during my time at the Western Morning News: front- line patrols in Afghanistan and wading waist-high through the filthy waters of the Ganges in Bangladesh, to name but two. However, going to my local pub to work was right up there – not because of any insidious threat offered by the cosy environment of The Crown in Penzance, but because I knew I wouldn't be able to have my customary glass of wine.
So, armed with my notebook, pens, laptop, a couple of council papers to peruse and mobile phone, I attempted to get down to the task in hand. My first problem was that it appeared wi-fi was not on tap in this particular pub. No worries, I thought, I can get to the internet through my mobile.
However – and whether it's an advantage or disadvantage is debatable – it seems that for the network I'm on, The Crown occupies a unique signal blackspot. So, without the basic tools of the trade, I am denied my chance to join those diligent workers who keep on top of the job from the pub. Time for that glass of wine, then.
Lyn Barton
The weather is woeful. The rain is being driven sideways by a chill wind and it's dark by mid-afternoon. Unsurprisingly, there's no-one out and about in the village, so the prospect of bumping into anyone I know in my local pub – The Finnygook Inn at Crafthole, near Torpoint – should be slim. It therefore seems like an ideal opportunity to test the theory of working from the pub, as so many people, apparently, seem to do nowadays. First problem – and it's a biggie – is that the wi-fi isn't working, so my hopes of connecting to the internet, email and our editorial system are dashed. I'm told, however, that it is on at a cafe down the hill in Portwrinkle. My mobile phone signal also seems to have disappeared on the wind. So that's that theory knocked on the head. And it's no bad thing, in my view. Let's leave pubs to be pubs, places where people meet, talk to each other, put the world to rights and have a laugh, rather than bury their heads in computer screens.
Andy Greenwood
Some might think it sad that a middle-aged bloke should have to take a tablet with him everywhere he goes – but journalists love the idea. We're not talking medicine here, but digital tablets which allow a person not only to keep an up-to-date eye on the world, but to report news and create stories wherever they go. That wide geographical remit includes the homely surroundings of a pub – which is where I was filing copy from earlier this week. It's difficult to imagine that, in the space of a single career, a person's basic work could have changed so much, thanks to technology. When I started in journalism, writing meant hammering the keys of a typewriter that weighed half as much as a desk. Just 12 years ago I recall reading a story from a Scilly telephone box to a WMN copy-taker in Plymouth. Now I merely hit the "send" button wherever I happen to be. That's assuming there is a mobile phone signal – which, in the Westcountry, is rarer than you'd think.
Martin Hesp
My local – The Black Horse in central Exeter – is a popular haunt for mobile workers, according to landlord Den. He estimates that two or three people every day use the free wi-fi, provided by The Cloud, and the cosy bar even doubles as a venue for clandestine job interviews. Evidence came in the shape of a woman tapping away at a laptop in the opposite corner to me. A pub landlady herself, she was happily sipping a pint while creating a poster for an open-mic night. She told me she liked to get away from work to do her computer-based work, paying bills and the like, and would normally spend a few hours at least one day a week in the pub, before taking a taxi home. The Black Horse is a stone's throw from the new John Lewis and on the way to the student quarter. Live football via Sky Sports draws large crowds at the weekends; live cricket was on offer when I popped in this week. As an office space, it served well. The music was not too loud and, judging by the mickey-taking I got after I revealed my profession, a likely source for some interesting stories.
Phil Goodwin
It feels all wrong from the start. Employers often talk up the benefits of achieving a "work-life balance" these days. But standing here at the bar of the Cheesewring Hotel in Minions – Cornwall's highest pub – I begin to wonder whether this advantage is intended for the worker or only for the company.
To ponder this fully, another pint of Sharp's Doom Bar is required. Yeghes da! Journalism was never a 9-5 occupation – but surely there are limits. And perhaps the pub should actually remain off-limits. Yes, we still pick up leads and story ideas from conversations across the bar, as we do in any other social or business encounter. But isn't the thought of placing a laptop on a sticky table and tapping out a story really just a little bit sad? Smartphones, tablets and other devices today allow us to communicate in a way that was inconceivable even half a dozen years ago. But we should be the masters of the communication revolution – not its slaves. So, for the purposes of this experiment, the laptop stays where it belongs, in the back of the car, while I order another pint of Doom and enjoy a good yarn.
Simon Parker
Send your experience of the pub as a workplace to: wmnnewsdesk@westernmorningnews.co.uk
