A well-run pub is a thing of beauty. I can usually tell within a few seconds of walking into a new bar whether I'm going to be able to relax there. It has little to do with facilities and almost everything to do with ambience. Do the regulars look contented? Are the staff attentive? Some pub-goers, of course, will want loud TV or a soundtrack of chart hits. Others will be ready to attack a reeking burger. Me, I want to be able to think and hear myself think. The fewer distractions (aural and olfactory) the better. A great pub offers space to be on your own, but also the chance to enter any number of intelligent debates. A great pub is the sum of its clientele.

I started exploring pubs in my mid-teens, back in the 1970s when ID was not required. There was a Gothenburg-style pub in my village, and on my 18th birthday my father took me inside, only to find that I was already a known face. It was the same story at the pub near my high school – some of us would wander there of a lunchtime, removing blazers and distinctive ties. Aye, we blended right in…

I was at university in Edinburgh when I first made the acquaintance of the Oxford Bar. Tucked away down a lane, yet quite central, it seemed to me indicative of the city – hidden in plain view. Visitors to Edinburgh are presented with only one side of the city, but secret treasures like “the Ox” can provide deeper insights. It helped that a few police officers drank there, just as I was starting work on my first Inspector Rebus novel. The first time I walked in I was met warily. The second time, there were nods of recognition. By the third, I was asked if I wanted “the usual”. In short order I became a regular, eventually even hosting my stag party in the back room.

Just good chat and peaceful nooks: the Oxford Bar in Edinburgh (Robert Ormerod)

Pub culture has changed over the years, but the Oxford Bar survives, providing no food, no jukebox or pool table – just good chat and peaceful nooks. A fair number of its ilk closed in the aftermath of the smoking ban, and many traditional watering-holes have had to evolve, adding grub, quiz nights, or any other novelty that might attract a crowd.

But I know what I like and I'm always delighted when I discover a new place that suits my needs, be it on the Black Isle (The Anderson in Fortrose; the Cromarty Arms in Cromarty) or in Ottawa (Chez Lucien), Belfast (The Crown) or Toronto (Dora Keogh). A great pub is society in microcosm, where you'll make lifelong friends, find the solutions to practical problems (someone always knows a reliable plumber or electrician), hear local news, and share the everyday stresses and small complaints of life.

Pubs have also inspired me, gifting me anecdotes and plots for my novels. And with a wider range of beers available than ever before, I doubt I'm going to tire of exploration any time soon. Cheers!