The perfect pubs have no televisions and no music, and no banging doors or loud southerners stood at the bar, and isn’t overly lit but not too dark that you can’t read, and has a couple of quiet, tired dogs in, and a barman/barmaid who’s not overly fussy but on it enough to spot when you want a top-up, and a good selection of quality snacks and some variant of pastry product available, and a comfy armchair or two in corners or alcoves, and a couple of newspapers lying about with communal crosswords (no cheating), and a selection of assorted curmudgeony locals who converse only in nods and mumbles, and maybe an open fire, and obviously a good combination of strong continental lagers, well-kept hoppy cask ales, a stout or porter and a few rare spirits.