PERHAPS it is time to stare glumly into the bottom of the nearest pint glass (probably on the sofa at home during the coronavirus pandemic) because I fear the British independent pubs as we know them will soon become, much like the dodo, extinct.

I have never been fan of major pub chains such as Wetherspoons for the simple reason they lack character.

But an independent pub... well now we are talking (and drinking) in amicable and comforting surroundings.

Find somewhere in winter with a roaring fire, the barflies who refuse to sit down and the regulars who eye you with considerable suspicion and I feel right at home.

But now even that refuge has been taken away from us and instead we are greeted by signs posted to the door stating that our favourite watering holes are closed for the foreseeable future. Gulp (or not at present, unfortunately).

Last summer I spent a very amicable afternoon inside a traditional boozer in Brick Lane, London.

Even though the sun was blazing down you could barely see your hands in front of your face because the windows still bore tobacco stains from the thousands of smokers who had once inhabited its wood panelled interior.

The barman was an irascible git who when asked for a glass of wine and a gin and tonic for my companion looked at me with astonishment.

“If you must” was his terse response.

Was I offended? Not at all. This passes for top service in some East End establishments I have frequented over the years and I have never seen so many characters in such a small space.

Free entertainment was immediately provided by an unbelievably inebriated Irishman who greeted everyone like a long lost relative.

Having staggered outside for a gasper, he crashed into our table upon his return and knocked both glasses flying.

Casually dropping a fiver on the table “to replenish our drinks” (they had cost £12) he then planted a kiss on a startled young woman nearby before being evicted by the door staff.

He spent the rest of the afternoon attempting to regain entry without success before falling into a deep sleep outside while leaning against the outer wall.

My first visit to a British public house in 1981 was, however, nowhere nearly as entertaining.

Having returned from South Africa I only got as far as the entrance of a pub in Romford when I was headbutted by an extremely large and angry skinhead who fractured my cheekbone and left me in a heap on the pavement. He never said a word, finished his pint and sauntered off.

But I persevered and I am glad I did because I have always loved going to pubs and the more esoteric the better.

But traditional pubs are now facing a crisis.

Even before they were forced to close due to the coronavirus lockdown they were permanently shutting at a quite alarming rate.

Becoming a landlord in recent years was and is a risky business.

If you got it right the chances were you would survive, get it wrong and the chances of making it work were between slim and none.

Of course, many now serve food both at lunchtimes and evenings in order to broaden their appeal and attract more families.

This has proved to be a recipe for success although many would argue that it marked the end of what had been seen as an intrinsic aspect of British life for hundreds of years.

But in order to survive all businesses must evolve.

Those that do not will almost inevitably fail, whether in the short or longer term.

Fortunately, Sussex is blessed with some really great independent pubs and not just in Brighton and Hove.

It is worth taking trips to the likes of Lewes, Eastbourne and Bexhill but unfortunately we can only start doing that when the lockdown is lifted, which begs the question “how many will reopen when it is”?

One thing is for sure... it is a sobering thought for pub fans like myself who can only hope there will be light at the end of the tunnel.

As and when the remaining pubs do open their doors once more (hopefully by the summer) it will be up to all of us who want to see them thrive to lend them our support.

Yes, a night in your local is no longer a cheap option when it comes to an evening in a convivial environment but, boy, we would miss them terribly if they disappeared.

I can’t wait for our pubs to be back in action and will undoubtedly be one of the first to say cheers.