tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66778855564044763082024-03-13T15:19:49.088+00:00BRAPA (British Real Ale Pub Adventure)Visiting every pub in the CAMRA Good Beer Guide before I die! Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.comBlogger1157125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-32466504215977989142022-12-06T21:04:00.000+00:002022-12-06T21:04:56.112+00:00BRAPA in .... 'ERE WIG GO AGAIN : MORE FROM NEWPORT / LAST POST ON BLOGGER (Gwenty is Plenty Part 7/14) <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98DFwRTWwnM_tKbryPTVobSyB9pnjnq5--bdXKy3ztNax1go7YyMv8LbWwzREWsiWC5UJuNOIFuiUjdea7s8FwyZ8AlXS3_bUj8acN_S-r_8J3oPnc48esXDgdYJrq9DZbO802ufyewGfu5TR69dQrWivDHOURQvFvwF6Nr_8SzH-iNt51jraZJD3VA/s4032/IMG_2106.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi98DFwRTWwnM_tKbryPTVobSyB9pnjnq5--bdXKy3ztNax1go7YyMv8LbWwzREWsiWC5UJuNOIFuiUjdea7s8FwyZ8AlXS3_bUj8acN_S-r_8J3oPnc48esXDgdYJrq9DZbO802ufyewGfu5TR69dQrWivDHOURQvFvwF6Nr_8SzH-iNt51jraZJD3VA/s320/IMG_2106.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>(LAST BLOG ON BLOGGER, actually wrote this before Edinburgh when the photo upload was just about bearable). Join me on Wix from tomorrow (link at the bottom, as the kids say).<br /><p>'Bottle of red for breakfast? I'm not judging (apart from the obvious Wotsits oversight). Mr Pink Shirt looked like a Levellers fan, and he had to neck his final glass as we pulled into Newport. Having found a 10am opener, I was reassured to find someone drinking earlier than me. </p><p>Yes, I was back in the town that Gwent nearly forgot. I was aiming for the same kind of strategy that had garnered six ticks yesterday. Do a couple in town, and get a bus out to the villages. </p><p>I was getting the impression that Newport was a proper drinkers town. As I peered through a few steamy windows, the only folk smiling were those with a drink in their hand.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizRxjoHWmSHeSFKNqmsYK2fBSaTQlSqu0B3SuesDAehy4moEayBT4eAqyv-4LNxLPhO6SwvcID-059vwLLgYpws5uO_kATxTpG4JFDjSFh0FvQcufue-nf5SW-EpVkZ-kUsmHpXn0HW-iGj2R4YL5Gdh_FrIvHG5KARDETta3x-fYHB1mCUB6VV95b8A/s3802/IMG_2107.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3802" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizRxjoHWmSHeSFKNqmsYK2fBSaTQlSqu0B3SuesDAehy4moEayBT4eAqyv-4LNxLPhO6SwvcID-059vwLLgYpws5uO_kATxTpG4JFDjSFh0FvQcufue-nf5SW-EpVkZ-kUsmHpXn0HW-iGj2R4YL5Gdh_FrIvHG5KARDETta3x-fYHB1mCUB6VV95b8A/s320/IMG_2107.HEIC" width="255" /></a></div><br /><p>Up a colourful (for Newport) sloping side street, the windows lined with old books, I was expecting the <b>Pen & Wig, Newport (2431 / 3995) </b>to be sweet and quaint. But not a bit of it. It was a moody, sticky tabled, slightly divey basic boarded pub. A surprising number of unusual ales on, but when I see that magic red triangle, all bets are off. It is the #PubMan way. Never touched the stuff pre-2014. The Bass here was not as scintillating as in Abergavenny's Station Hotel, but I'd still put it slightly above halfway in the Bass league table, pushing for a late play off place but losing a key player to injury in April. The soundtrack was very late nineties which was a nice gear change from the lazy Britpop throwback you get in far too many places, but with the constant threat of Cliff's Millennium Prayer, the Vengaboys and Martine McCutcheon hanging in the morning fug, threatening to bring the Wig into disrepute at any perfect moment (thanks!), I decided not to linger (which would've been a great Cranberries pun if they'd only held on a few years).</p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>It is, I get the feeling it is probably a regular too. Always the best type of tick. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYqFrX5_Ih9GKs-sbXQPPbEZJRSivAvr0O6FoDQi60rMMcDZ4Sk206-ZXYFWZiJg9XaTXIlT73scB4gCgKL90wrqu0xk4XMSkAES6kOgfuwDszKLPyPRiKg5KvDaBSybrxRYzH8odYVzWPsNJD_VeJ-YQTcn7TsJmFM35xsh7KFV55fLUpFfVopZabg/s4032/IMG_2108.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYqFrX5_Ih9GKs-sbXQPPbEZJRSivAvr0O6FoDQi60rMMcDZ4Sk206-ZXYFWZiJg9XaTXIlT73scB4gCgKL90wrqu0xk4XMSkAES6kOgfuwDszKLPyPRiKg5KvDaBSybrxRYzH8odYVzWPsNJD_VeJ-YQTcn7TsJmFM35xsh7KFV55fLUpFfVopZabg/s320/IMG_2108.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHUeebnu5R9gn1uCBlQ7bO4db9g82EGGsZzdgJEZX4LA4zbJUL9lEaxgjX1ZGItzP6iJKDalLvTOIAC34mwfQ4L3-KzlNOJE0ilzoIyHekexCw0nq2KagZ_5_FjtzyuBZCf6Y_FIg4uCrty4dZtNF-YRV_R9E2R7MTcTsNu9Dofqrtwx9qApSPqka74g/s4032/IMG_2109.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHUeebnu5R9gn1uCBlQ7bO4db9g82EGGsZzdgJEZX4LA4zbJUL9lEaxgjX1ZGItzP6iJKDalLvTOIAC34mwfQ4L3-KzlNOJE0ilzoIyHekexCw0nq2KagZ_5_FjtzyuBZCf6Y_FIg4uCrty4dZtNF-YRV_R9E2R7MTcTsNu9Dofqrtwx9qApSPqka74g/s320/IMG_2109.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZY099CY0XYwqERNltNiOykncapPOYAs1sXitrIzhBvg-uczxonAwKJcNXfViGl4Fx3Ede3bQoUyu5dMLaTzwpfH22unwi6y4K0seqJOot2sRnKltuo5S68BgHe56jLx0sCbFp8w4ebkFSUN8TZWilxXA4jk3JgYOovfpVNBl2s5hua1qDKl35iPhLtg/s3111/IMG_2110.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3111" data-original-width="2949" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZY099CY0XYwqERNltNiOykncapPOYAs1sXitrIzhBvg-uczxonAwKJcNXfViGl4Fx3Ede3bQoUyu5dMLaTzwpfH22unwi6y4K0seqJOot2sRnKltuo5S68BgHe56jLx0sCbFp8w4ebkFSUN8TZWilxXA4jk3JgYOovfpVNBl2s5hua1qDKl35iPhLtg/s320/IMG_2110.HEIC" width="303" /></a></div><p>Time to get myself aboard a bus in a Chepstowy direction before my bladder filled up too much. Plenty of ticks to be had in this southern section of Gwent, and at 11.62 precise miles out of Newport, this was my first stop. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTT22RQSWzHuiScU-M3f0fEfY0a7MnnXW3jKcNrHzdkdOvZ2xCOeptoo9Elqi0OWGrHPeAff_F2j7TYJE2Q5QXa7OpMG90rgY9dFRq5EtlvJVXwzVGZ9JY8eHFCirdtAZfqJ-9yOfR9V8tQekTnTp1B9Rn4i5089i1i8hA8TRS0g1bCl5Fnc4B7cxNpg/s3716/IMG_2112.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2052" data-original-width="3716" height="177" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTT22RQSWzHuiScU-M3f0fEfY0a7MnnXW3jKcNrHzdkdOvZ2xCOeptoo9Elqi0OWGrHPeAff_F2j7TYJE2Q5QXa7OpMG90rgY9dFRq5EtlvJVXwzVGZ9JY8eHFCirdtAZfqJ-9yOfR9V8tQekTnTp1B9Rn4i5089i1i8hA8TRS0g1bCl5Fnc4B7cxNpg/s320/IMG_2112.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p>Quite a grand looking place from a distance, the <b>Wheatsheaf, Magor (2432 / 3996) </b>didn't stand out as particularly special on my visit. It did at least have a smidgen of soft furnishings and warmth which were lacking in the Pen & Wig. 'Swerve Oakham Citra, get punished' has been the message coming through loud and clear so far this year when I've shunned Peterborough's finest in favour of something more crafty (or Whitstable Bay). So no way I'm avoiding it here. Great pint, canny guv'nor, but the so-called child drawing certainly had the hallmarks of an adult trying to passing itself off as a child! Weird behaviour. See pic below, and let me know what you think. The words probably are by the child, but the cat facial features make me suspicious. I reverse my arse into one of the cosier spots facing the bar, perhaps too cosy as a local lady is having lunch for one and I nearly end up with a bum full of sausage & mash. After a while, we get chatting. She seems to think I'll have empathy for her Magor woes despite having a 'Good Beer Guide' and a mascot sheep on my table, and is going on about local road trials and tribulations. "Someone drove between 10-17 mph in front of me all the way here, how do you think that made me feel?!" she complained, in one of the most unanswerable questions ever. The only other customer around this side is a nervous pint drinking man. When his phone rings, he jumps. It is the wife. "Sorry luv, really have very little signal out here, crackle crackle crackle, nope you're breaking up" he says, before hanging up, downing the rest, and rushing off. And so must I, a bus is imminent. </p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>It is, deserves it for that Citra alone. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YsM3hWBo2LB2lU6gZLKZQ63AqjCSvVSkTVBczCXa2BO3h-HAHwZbOPTcAWYv1qyshCnigMr5AxN3ahzQLl8YWTJF5FFUhdRBohe3AD9aE96152IlIj3Q_p2hRqXHgzz52V4mQ-bqyd9BG-e2dhCkyE-kznXI_SI6GtMMHohvPW8ZUBKg7g6houXtig/s2613/IMG_2114.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2009" data-original-width="2613" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0YsM3hWBo2LB2lU6gZLKZQ63AqjCSvVSkTVBczCXa2BO3h-HAHwZbOPTcAWYv1qyshCnigMr5AxN3ahzQLl8YWTJF5FFUhdRBohe3AD9aE96152IlIj3Q_p2hRqXHgzz52V4mQ-bqyd9BG-e2dhCkyE-kznXI_SI6GtMMHohvPW8ZUBKg7g6houXtig/s320/IMG_2114.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"You can save this picture to your seasoned cat" Mmm, I'll have a salt n pepper tabby please. </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin3FSA7BhYofm_MnYIxCXXqGtkMvXNJptPozfRm1IR6SEjeVYKcVU7--s2REHGozQUhbxsMvd2cBKO9b7S8v0U36bnOQXPauIZq1RQ6Uym0geqpT6DIAe5QpxUbL2Y3gWAqXROV4pGZ06DJeloHSZBTpI_gip60GVnV_lEYnTYJiOmxRwnZhEuXicSdg/s4032/IMG_2115.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEin3FSA7BhYofm_MnYIxCXXqGtkMvXNJptPozfRm1IR6SEjeVYKcVU7--s2REHGozQUhbxsMvd2cBKO9b7S8v0U36bnOQXPauIZq1RQ6Uym0geqpT6DIAe5QpxUbL2Y3gWAqXROV4pGZ06DJeloHSZBTpI_gip60GVnV_lEYnTYJiOmxRwnZhEuXicSdg/s320/IMG_2115.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><p>Next stop out east, don't go crossing that border into BORING England, is Caldicot. The pub was errrm, quite astonishing! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sG0hL8D20PX5mxRmoOcmsLF13Ivgz7Z044I7CnZR0TIzFVyh3zxGij9Fw8vcr09Hy1fLcwRz-hs4HOFmNtXrRRZsspbRr9JGWzTXf8VfeyG1nV_WgaEsVjn5GgLQg57U1d1YxIf4mLmz_YJvfo7nonHXPYUDBT90Oumc-l1q2r9Wso1odWbYK8MqDw/s2579/IMG_2116.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2407" data-original-width="2579" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1sG0hL8D20PX5mxRmoOcmsLF13Ivgz7Z044I7CnZR0TIzFVyh3zxGij9Fw8vcr09Hy1fLcwRz-hs4HOFmNtXrRRZsspbRr9JGWzTXf8VfeyG1nV_WgaEsVjn5GgLQg57U1d1YxIf4mLmz_YJvfo7nonHXPYUDBT90Oumc-l1q2r9Wso1odWbYK8MqDw/s320/IMG_2116.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>With shopmobility's and walking frames dominating the frontage, I should've been prepared for the step into the twilight zone which was the <b>Cross Inn, Caldicot (2433 / 3997) </b>- all eyes turn on me as I enter, I try to smile warmly around the room, but I'm inwardly taken aback, I hadn't been expecting this level of local Welshitude. For a pub like this to make it into the GBG is increasingly rare, more's the pity. Dartmoor Jail Ale (in a Doom glass) is the only cask on, and nowt wrong with it, as I realise I've got no choice but to sit in the centre and immerse myself in Cross Inn culture. A dividing wall / fireplace seems to contain just as many crazies behind me. I'd say the place has a WMC atmosphere, but it is more 'charged' than that. Even the folk watching 'Doctors' on a giant plasma are doing it with quite a degree of passion. Everyone has 2003 Nokia phones, with polyphonic ringtones, 'The Good, the Bad and the Ugly' theme being the most popular, and the most apt. A gnarly bloke with a face like the planet Mars walks up to a man sat at a table, "I've just seen yer da' Geraint, he's looking well for 83" but the man he is addressing looks 83 too. Strangely falling in love with this place, more rewarding than the previous two, much more life, even if a lot of the life was close to death. Superb. </p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>Nah, binned off in favour of a brewery tap room! Sad, but not surprised. Beer guide, not pub guide, or so they say. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhty6JQ4IT5mLldVUALa69VmDLXKSRNkqxnA5mB35pn_Xy7VDIa9rOxGWWjLX_bfBCCfzrtGUNCrvu9-18D-KoDaICAovUQmyAnfdqZ9xzl8Rht7QuPB3XD4LkFJnbLTjTUBFSctEYclz4WhOdOhF60a3hMIWPAYE2Nm36NHtQoKenvzvQNf7x4hUlo1A/s4032/IMG_2117.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhty6JQ4IT5mLldVUALa69VmDLXKSRNkqxnA5mB35pn_Xy7VDIa9rOxGWWjLX_bfBCCfzrtGUNCrvu9-18D-KoDaICAovUQmyAnfdqZ9xzl8Rht7QuPB3XD4LkFJnbLTjTUBFSctEYclz4WhOdOhF60a3hMIWPAYE2Nm36NHtQoKenvzvQNf7x4hUlo1A/s320/IMG_2117.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpnJVGgBFLDYZsVx9wIL3o4Qna3sUHt9G_dBJmZlioCFoudESMmBFNt96vmlEVOCkE-eorfLupu26bUWNw3BOvaFAmS_GBCJhaKhBJ6pOlHV41pOzuIjXPrRQH0FMkp1wURM5f2xazaUI9ZJ7FyX3bXGn7s91SxofC36BN8wsWpqeYw0Tz8aRIZnxLjg/s4032/IMG_2119.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpnJVGgBFLDYZsVx9wIL3o4Qna3sUHt9G_dBJmZlioCFoudESMmBFNt96vmlEVOCkE-eorfLupu26bUWNw3BOvaFAmS_GBCJhaKhBJ6pOlHV41pOzuIjXPrRQH0FMkp1wURM5f2xazaUI9ZJ7FyX3bXGn7s91SxofC36BN8wsWpqeYw0Tz8aRIZnxLjg/s320/IMG_2119.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL9tn9iA_3frDbgxUZODD4P24JEZ-Kac-J1TKXtG9fjqLWk2Q4V-7D_O1Tlu-IpdcTlZbO7lb_-YbIxEou5pxHiAXwtIkll1IfEM2D0kf324IVYfE0vLOmFW1RK7GmvtNTtklc3iSjPMbGKyX0-dRgihBramheKpAIzYI_ZkehP2eK-yrKXEiGff6iYQ/s4032/IMG_2120.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL9tn9iA_3frDbgxUZODD4P24JEZ-Kac-J1TKXtG9fjqLWk2Q4V-7D_O1Tlu-IpdcTlZbO7lb_-YbIxEou5pxHiAXwtIkll1IfEM2D0kf324IVYfE0vLOmFW1RK7GmvtNTtklc3iSjPMbGKyX0-dRgihBramheKpAIzYI_ZkehP2eK-yrKXEiGff6iYQ/s320/IMG_2120.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyAUFlU9oZpUHIg_AlavZboVD4gHqSYEd9hhDX6zd4u8Amj7qSLnc4Nbr_iyO2bWB1q2FJ56dj8FRjfAbaFEtuWQJgE0TvGwKhX9D8szY3HICqZf93tlgn-H2TxPDAlKEouBwN0_g9YKVOiR6NQyF-kc64sp3YFgFTeTYueZe_r-t9wuOt0-6tKAIkw/s4032/IMG_2121.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOyAUFlU9oZpUHIg_AlavZboVD4gHqSYEd9hhDX6zd4u8Amj7qSLnc4Nbr_iyO2bWB1q2FJ56dj8FRjfAbaFEtuWQJgE0TvGwKhX9D8szY3HICqZf93tlgn-H2TxPDAlKEouBwN0_g9YKVOiR6NQyF-kc64sp3YFgFTeTYueZe_r-t9wuOt0-6tKAIkw/s320/IMG_2121.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>See you all over on Wix! Address is going to be <a href="https://simeyeveritt.wixsite.com/brapa">https://simeyeveritt.wixsite.com/brapa</a></p><p>Take care, Si </p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-58513094955430737052022-12-04T21:09:00.001+00:002022-12-04T21:09:48.769+00:00BRAPA ...... MONTH END REVIEW : NOVEMBER '22<p><b>62 </b>pubs done in November, the second best ever BRAPA total - eclipsed only by my 66<b> </b>in October this year. And if we throw in the 16 I've already done in December, that is a liver shattering 144 pubs since 1st October. Ooof, the Winter Break is looking a better decision the more I think about it! More on that later.</p><p>I write this with England v Senegal on in the background, the second half has just kicked off so I cannot see them losing this now. Problem is, the thought of that Mbrapa chap ticking off our defence in the next round is frankly terrifying. </p><p>November started in Clitheroe's excellent Beer Shack with a lady trying to staple Christmas decorations to whatever you call that bit that separates wall from ceiling:</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0SsTCcdf9ygGwwz_i_U1B6km0uyzslejGyVt8LSlMfCNGnXxKdKiWZLwoR1Pdt-RzV4ra7dqunF19-Qnw5PRZui1ln1-mwhtkcH7hrgFSjqAdeKw6CU4bUFeMx3h73lM7fni5IlMn5qFN9aqOpgJ2k4G1d5mIiU1c1h4O6MjbPHVnZwK3umQwF5oNA/s4032/IMG_2623.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn0SsTCcdf9ygGwwz_i_U1B6km0uyzslejGyVt8LSlMfCNGnXxKdKiWZLwoR1Pdt-RzV4ra7dqunF19-Qnw5PRZui1ln1-mwhtkcH7hrgFSjqAdeKw6CU4bUFeMx3h73lM7fni5IlMn5qFN9aqOpgJ2k4G1d5mIiU1c1h4O6MjbPHVnZwK3umQwF5oNA/s320/IMG_2623.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />And it ended in the smoky fug of Cloisters, one of Edinburgh's many great bars which have a cosier, pubbier atmosphere than many of their English counterparts:<p></p><p>(I'd do a pic but Google Photos and Blogger have stopped speaking to each other .... oh, and England have a third, what drama here!)</p><p>Moving my Blog to Wix is looking more appealing by the day, photo uploading constantly times out, adding 20-30 mins per blog. Not good enuff!</p><p>Ah yes, Edinburgh & the Lothians, my first fully green 'county' of the year and what a holiday I had.</p><p><Imagine photo of a fully green Stabilo'd Ed & the Loths></p><p>I really need to do more of this, getting into new areas I've not previously 'conquered' rather than chasing my tail for the umpteenth time around Central London, Cornwall and North Yorkshire. 'They all need ticking though, Si' you might well say, but as I'm only at <b>49.89% </b>completion of the GBG (yes, I'm almost back to the magic 2250), I feel this is the right strategy for now.</p><p>Kent is my ongoing pet project of the moment, and you may see I've been taking my first baby steps in Notts and Lincs. 'Poor baby', you might say (no I'm sure they are both full of lovely pubs & people). </p><p><Imagine photo of Lincoln's Birdcage being quirky, red and fun></p><p>My favourite five (okay, six, I lost my discipline) pubs of the month in no particular order are as follows:</p><p>1. Old House, Ightham Common</p><p>2. Little Gem, Aylesford</p><p>3. Plough Inn, South Leverton</p><p>4. Wheatsheaf Inn, Falkirk</p><p>5. Volunteer Arms (Staggs), Musselburgh</p><p>6. Kay's Bar, Edinburgh (North)</p><p><Imagine photo of Little Gem interior, with RetiredMartin and Christine looking stoic but intrigued></p><p>Yes, the serendipitous moment of the month was finding that Martin & Christine were in Maidstone at the same time as me. They kindly drove me round some harder to reach pubs, which incidentally were all great, superb stuff.</p><p>BRAPA person of the month was Daddy BRAPA which in no way means he won't be the overall BRAPA person of the year, but if he isn't, the November Shield should offer some consolation:</p><p><Imagine photo of drunk me and happy Daddy B grinning down the lens in York's Fox></p><p>Lowlights? And I don't mean a pub in North Shields, haha (sorry, just a pub tickers joke there). The Bay Horse at Market Weighton wins award for most depressing pub of the year to date. The price I paid for a pint in Sir John Oldcastle 'Spoons in Farringdon shocked me to the core. Lincoln's Tiny Tavern private members style policy I found jarring. York's Blue Bell once got booted out for similar. And there were a few too many poor quality ales pulled in Edinburgh which must be at least slightly linked to the amounts of the Big T being drunk instead. But overall a great month.</p><p><Imagine a photo of Oscar the Owl necking a celebratory pint of Tennent's in Stockbridge Tap></p><p>I performed a second reconciliation of the GBG with surprising results! It came about cos this underground pub ticker called Jim (well, he ain't on Twitter) added me to this glorious shared tickers spreadsheet, which makes keeping your stats up to date so much easier than my current system.</p><p>Well, I'd erroneously highlighted Wrexham's Royal Oak but I definitely haven't been! But it generally worked in my favour, I gained two in the West Midlands as I'd forgotten to highlight Coventry's Hearsall, plus I'd miscounted by one. And there were forgettable pubs in Camden and West London I'd forgotten I'd visited. Oh, and I hadn't realised Ulverston's Gather used to be called Beerwolf. What drama! Again.</p><p><Imagine a photo of me crunching the numbers and looking confused></p><p>So onto December, and the final Thirsty Thursday of the year is next up in Notts. Then I have three days in the South East as I use up my remaining work holidays, before the first ever official BRAPA winter break begins on Tue 13th Dec and is now extended to mid Jan due to train strikes, and what I call the 'pub tickers corridor of uncertainty' (i.e. ticking in early Jan). I'll recharge my batteries, liver, catch up on blogs, save a bit of money, and come back stronger in the New Year. Oh, and I might get a couple of 'accidental' ticks done on football days in Hull, Wigan and Birmingham (Colmore anyone?)</p><p><Imagine pic of Colin in a Christmas hat waving wistfully at the camera> </p><p>Right, there we go. Apologies for lack of photos but it is 9pm, full time, and I can't be bothered.</p><p>Take care, Si </p><p><br /></p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-17878904495625591162022-11-23T22:05:00.001+00:002022-11-23T22:05:29.234+00:00BRAPA IS ...... A REBEL WITHOUT A COORS (GWENTY IS PLENTY PT 6/14) <p>Q : When do you most want your Good Beer Guide to look like this? </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRRLlj7bkkD3AvqRsi3KKBReikW0cbcy-sBtqHxjZXnexklA616TvX2DkIVN5AIh9rFUXPDnQCSFu4jZbH-M6755YwdKVJSBwjn8eqt1p43B7LbGvenwVEkkBi814nH9XOcACdhqUMsQa9HNw6S7Ucd-wc5Yo-_z9CQ2cojsHQ6Ed4xhLQFqRSX6L3Q/s707/IMG_2078.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="405" data-original-width="707" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnRRLlj7bkkD3AvqRsi3KKBReikW0cbcy-sBtqHxjZXnexklA616TvX2DkIVN5AIh9rFUXPDnQCSFu4jZbH-M6755YwdKVJSBwjn8eqt1p43B7LbGvenwVEkkBi814nH9XOcACdhqUMsQa9HNw6S7Ucd-wc5Yo-_z9CQ2cojsHQ6Ed4xhLQFqRSX6L3Q/s320/IMG_2078.PNG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>A : When you are in a Sam Smith pub!</p><p>It was the shortest walk from Tiny Rebel in Newport centre to this gem, but they were world's apart in almost every way.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhxmAu2jxKN2-zUYoZrQaSEqu7wLaNSUexti_WdS7IfQ1CYP1ocDwRd8fgT2u4sG50bm2Haw2Y9dyCHtZAwkoJ6HsaOsboALz6iR4phFN_2HoZqtglNICC2fRXWZ0dhOxGE0kz9QXPCWjJax5Zdyr_IprfEDtQXojXyBM-JFLjp8O3wrTXFuIXeAfpQ/s3935/IMG_2092.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3935" data-original-width="2588" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhxmAu2jxKN2-zUYoZrQaSEqu7wLaNSUexti_WdS7IfQ1CYP1ocDwRd8fgT2u4sG50bm2Haw2Y9dyCHtZAwkoJ6HsaOsboALz6iR4phFN_2HoZqtglNICC2fRXWZ0dhOxGE0kz9QXPCWjJax5Zdyr_IprfEDtQXojXyBM-JFLjp8O3wrTXFuIXeAfpQ/s320/IMG_2092.HEIC" width="210" /></a></div><p><b>Olde Murenger House, Newport (2428 / 3992) </b>really makes me sad that there aren't more Sam Smith pubs in the GBG, an unpopular view I guess, but the combo of eccentric unpredictable owner plus just the one cask on (OBB) are perhaps too much to bear for most CAMRA branches. Shame, but as the Cheeky Girls would comment 'touch my bum, this is life'. Their buildings are generally stunning old time warps, and this was a fine example. Despite the 'no electronic devices' rule, I manage to sneak two photos (instead of my usual 4-5) early doors, pubs this beautiful deserve to be seen by the widest audience possible. If this rule still exists in five years time, I'll be shocked. Dimly lit, beautiful wood panelling, old settles, stained glass, I was purring like a kitten as I shoved my phone firmly back in my pocket, savoured my excellent pint, and read my GBG like a novel. A surprisingly deep pub too, a walk to the loo taught me that, and in every nook and cranny, a warty old bloke with long hairy ears. One chap at the bar is explaining that he lives in Malta these days, but he's back for the free healthcare, before pointing graphically towards his prostate. I had to chuckle that my pint in Tiny Rebel had been cheaper (closer to £3 here the heathens!), I'd have put money on the opposite at the start of play. </p><p><b>Still in GBG? </b>It sure is, Newport CAMRA you absolute enlightened legends!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFn12oYQtRpOyJBf7IXDto0VTXajEG5UJl5pzRsfl8jQnH3V_IDuFpek9tLPD_o-i_8dMVDaiMj5h6kagfj-Q1X4qq-adxpK9kjapnTHyZIM7hsOAHzoSfmE5gZptCBZvbQZPNgh7dTTFZP50AMQS-yZjdNdodJnpEsHrdGGtubwb4s-1kCy_TyUBZMA/s3473/IMG_2093.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3473" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFn12oYQtRpOyJBf7IXDto0VTXajEG5UJl5pzRsfl8jQnH3V_IDuFpek9tLPD_o-i_8dMVDaiMj5h6kagfj-Q1X4qq-adxpK9kjapnTHyZIM7hsOAHzoSfmE5gZptCBZvbQZPNgh7dTTFZP50AMQS-yZjdNdodJnpEsHrdGGtubwb4s-1kCy_TyUBZMA/s320/IMG_2093.HEIC" width="279" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mXKouSv1zD0vtIle6VAcTrAGwRK0wcjXtXZHA4mbWLo52rvbuX4n0uQYZoQS_es2JUIGeWpoDaTLF56z8iE4BRUQe1J7S29Ax_zBpl2KKvEJTArzY-Y6MvvsyOOlzo0jQF5QZD1HriyvL_TaO2PFMmE3QUM69TS9oEJlDJcM_rwcvu_rkrRE9j4vTA/s4032/IMG_2094.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3mXKouSv1zD0vtIle6VAcTrAGwRK0wcjXtXZHA4mbWLo52rvbuX4n0uQYZoQS_es2JUIGeWpoDaTLF56z8iE4BRUQe1J7S29Ax_zBpl2KKvEJTArzY-Y6MvvsyOOlzo0jQF5QZD1HriyvL_TaO2PFMmE3QUM69TS9oEJlDJcM_rwcvu_rkrRE9j4vTA/s320/IMG_2094.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Time to go the wrong way out of Newport (AKA not towards Abergavenny OR Chepstow), where I had two ticks conveniently situated on the same train route.</p><p>This was the first .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYh8PmrgpRpmYwiQ8aEBOsbaKCTh6w2wezJAYUxwj2MnHMQb4QdYJcrWeBIA7KqzWT4AksGmfDJzgdeMao8kh8Ra4dMh9CBPdC9b_uxTJM9BTNoNUN0bertVYBqA0ebbKc0yGu9upN7M58u5z_CJG0yGJj2s3_BjOuFjSaZWfcDqqHBAC7nLih8ozBqA/s4032/IMG_2095.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYh8PmrgpRpmYwiQ8aEBOsbaKCTh6w2wezJAYUxwj2MnHMQb4QdYJcrWeBIA7KqzWT4AksGmfDJzgdeMao8kh8Ra4dMh9CBPdC9b_uxTJM9BTNoNUN0bertVYBqA0ebbKc0yGu9upN7M58u5z_CJG0yGJj2s3_BjOuFjSaZWfcDqqHBAC7nLih8ozBqA/s320/IMG_2095.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUv4M91sEyLFVlhG7lRL3hJKoeh-PJu4cngQDBOGFI-mNcZW0RQnLtKHUPCVa9vEIBSHHycECze9pokDVTPQEhqVg5aBVXEr260Cv9TNsUYC9kMhX1lnlFIYXKs_bQG-FAom-n2oOSZ8HwGLnhEktB2AvArGYiz7ao7n5PM_MIaoXmXUWK_r4mjS0hw/s4032/IMG_2096.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnUv4M91sEyLFVlhG7lRL3hJKoeh-PJu4cngQDBOGFI-mNcZW0RQnLtKHUPCVa9vEIBSHHycECze9pokDVTPQEhqVg5aBVXEr260Cv9TNsUYC9kMhX1lnlFIYXKs_bQG-FAom-n2oOSZ8HwGLnhEktB2AvArGYiz7ao7n5PM_MIaoXmXUWK_r4mjS0hw/s320/IMG_2096.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><b>Commercial Inn, Pontymister (2429 / 3993) </b>had an<b> </b>eyesore Covid throwback of an exterior, and once inside, it was a pub lacking any distinct personality or zhush. Perhaps a bit harsh to dismiss it as an identikit dining pub, what with the flashing screens, cocktail and food offers .... but a real return to reality after the Murenger. I'd later discover a pool table, jukebox, and a heariter locals atmosphere to the right, which was some consolation. It reminded me of the kind of place you find in the 'burbs of Cardiff, and I guess I was getting closer. My pint was decent, Pig & Porter are one of those breweries following BRAPA around the country at the moment. The pub experience almost entirely passed me by as I tried to work out which of the young staff's 'drink, food, music' combo is least horrific. I think I'll go with Ginny providing the wine is red, the chilli is mild, and 'Dancing Queen' turns out to be some punk cover and not the original. Fifth pint syndrome may've been a factor, but just when I was about to try and quicken my drinking speed and piss off, a huge group of ladies arrives. "We have this table reserved, sorry" they tell me so matter-of-factly, I don't even argue despite the lack of table reservation sign, which I'd expect in a pub of this ilk. In fact, wouldn't it normally be a staff member who move you in this situation, this isn't the LNER to Peterborough pals! They end up asking me to stay and join them when we get chatting BRAPA, me now hovering awkwardly, GBG in hand. But I politely decline, all bar one was a loud Welsh clucky mother hen. That is when I discover the vaguely pubbier right side, and the late intrusion had sobered me up a bit too, so all in all not a bad ending. </p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>No, and I'm not hugely surprised.</p><p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjteA2cCvozvHfXNb-3AndbWJ_0o7tyvcwY8pXmJ4QCoqzPRt2-1wpv3GwonoZ49eHp7NYdmyCZBZ9wzaG787WsuYZHOH3fPsTLSTl3LSEK0TB9dyetE6QUWXnDOmIODPGa4TfAT1NZWZ6ChNPzI5B-Y5FZr3VvfzNyeZfN_i1cLdzdk4y1EtA4dZaLQw/s4032/IMG_2101.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjteA2cCvozvHfXNb-3AndbWJ_0o7tyvcwY8pXmJ4QCoqzPRt2-1wpv3GwonoZ49eHp7NYdmyCZBZ9wzaG787WsuYZHOH3fPsTLSTl3LSEK0TB9dyetE6QUWXnDOmIODPGa4TfAT1NZWZ6ChNPzI5B-Y5FZr3VvfzNyeZfN_i1cLdzdk4y1EtA4dZaLQw/s320/IMG_2101.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Colin : ESB / Mini Cheddars / Cauliflowers Fluffy</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVSJnRJ6cz_l6n1ykx2Z0g1cy6jWppmIejUjHhjzII13U5wQdYvIMDSI2hTngzSjFmybdbzgtg5z4txeppkqgeiNUXQ_ATXazCyLM2ujv1RG3FpB-pa9sh4F0u1g0iaDrVlqEjDL21eqPvcJBdF9nlgKs47vbUaQ2_Ue-ezxq4i06RIj1eKZd29LgBg/s4032/IMG_2099.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbVSJnRJ6cz_l6n1ykx2Z0g1cy6jWppmIejUjHhjzII13U5wQdYvIMDSI2hTngzSjFmybdbzgtg5z4txeppkqgeiNUXQ_ATXazCyLM2ujv1RG3FpB-pa9sh4F0u1g0iaDrVlqEjDL21eqPvcJBdF9nlgKs47vbUaQ2_Ue-ezxq4i06RIj1eKZd29LgBg/s320/IMG_2099.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHtiyOlESnfxUKTwBZ2Qj6TBJUXVetkqrjEALQmC8QBPc8b9au3O9727um7PzSpyVO7H9L1T77hd_cZVDDwDokPJUbaHnIaeDnwREZxojcmPIgC9b575vvZrqZbO4yKZn9QdB-wRFWEHkbizvCAZtCj0wX9UVrK3ATLlbMIPnFbN6YHT7-drQTOjk7pQ/s4032/IMG_2097.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHtiyOlESnfxUKTwBZ2Qj6TBJUXVetkqrjEALQmC8QBPc8b9au3O9727um7PzSpyVO7H9L1T77hd_cZVDDwDokPJUbaHnIaeDnwREZxojcmPIgC9b575vvZrqZbO4yKZn9QdB-wRFWEHkbizvCAZtCj0wX9UVrK3ATLlbMIPnFbN6YHT7-drQTOjk7pQ/s320/IMG_2097.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><p></p><p>One more tick before the end of day three in Gwent, and one more stop on the same train line took me to Rogerstone. It was a surprisingly long confusing walk, but when has a brewery tap every been located in a reasonable place? Very much like modern day football grounds.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpm_MVoKGmTEC1d9cjgW-91CTb-uxtW_qJJ8eN5DQZQ_gVbiC4cSts7JbLRt_HKF_muFg4-mKiXUdp0rs6tW5nSGHgp3TbKodF9bhsf2SWC9siC8sqynsaM0yrYzoaYe7AX15Edj-XtkkvvPbUK2BEKqeEUL1xkXAZisz0NZM28n5y3Z9wuMxDQ8XNfA/s3002/IMG_2102.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2265" data-original-width="3002" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpm_MVoKGmTEC1d9cjgW-91CTb-uxtW_qJJ8eN5DQZQ_gVbiC4cSts7JbLRt_HKF_muFg4-mKiXUdp0rs6tW5nSGHgp3TbKodF9bhsf2SWC9siC8sqynsaM0yrYzoaYe7AX15Edj-XtkkvvPbUK2BEKqeEUL1xkXAZisz0NZM28n5y3Z9wuMxDQ8XNfA/s320/IMG_2102.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9M40CGKBW6kqyj24Yfi2XyPWBa3lrl1cyfuIMH2egD0-JfKGsgpAbOkOWzEvtCSjsM1v5Wol5iSV_9cFCkPlv1oBvzZAb-TZyYnc7tESHjVloG5_PsKqztGWmCLtq5ilcvZM-eydXMURycm1_6c8DbmYhQMmuVue8YPtK1K1PsVAOWJEK0_OqMAiNWw/s4032/IMG_2103.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9M40CGKBW6kqyj24Yfi2XyPWBa3lrl1cyfuIMH2egD0-JfKGsgpAbOkOWzEvtCSjsM1v5Wol5iSV_9cFCkPlv1oBvzZAb-TZyYnc7tESHjVloG5_PsKqztGWmCLtq5ilcvZM-eydXMURycm1_6c8DbmYhQMmuVue8YPtK1K1PsVAOWJEK0_OqMAiNWw/s320/IMG_2103.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>And this place was akin to Wembley Stadium, flippin' massive to navigate the perimeter and find the entrance, welcome to <b>Tiny Rebel Brewery Bar, Rogerstone (2430 / 3994), </b>more like a warehouse. In some ways it reminded me of the time I nearly inadvertently broke into Sellafield. The place was exactly as I expected, a right industrial monster. The one big surprise was how poor the cask was, not too many on but the Peleton Pale was dishwater, ugh, I'd rather have had a pint of Coors, not sure they sell it. Bit embarrassing they can't get cask right in their own brewery tap, for two pub tickers messaged me to say they'd both had exactly the same experience! The theory is that people come here more for events, food, cocktails etc. and the ale doesn't get the same turnover the one in Newport centre gets. But no excuse is it? The music tried to cheer me. Billy Idol's Rebel Yell must be their anthem, got stuck on repeat a bit in a Ghost Town/Father Ted style loop, before the unlikely combo of Billy Joel and Metallica tried to raise my spirits. I resisted the temptation to buy my mate a Tiny Rebel t-shirt for his birthday, or some craft cans for my hotel room. This was a damp squib of an ending to an interesting, mixed day three. </p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>Yes, and there was a certain air of inevitability to it. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi166LTaTZmZIQszY-PWxz_tV53lSbq6NJ9YLQO7bVxhe4qsfMkUF_bfTuMVdc1dcgAJXiKhDjnv1TJL5rRPVbQXAt75Y8MOT8ErwmfcljYo3qRt5SAU0Tzcr4dKS0kURG2Mi4sD5-Y5qlaAuQSrUJVMczG9LWD-JNf3sIp_q4cUBweP0BsC8z2gbIPfA/s4032/IMG_2104.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi166LTaTZmZIQszY-PWxz_tV53lSbq6NJ9YLQO7bVxhe4qsfMkUF_bfTuMVdc1dcgAJXiKhDjnv1TJL5rRPVbQXAt75Y8MOT8ErwmfcljYo3qRt5SAU0Tzcr4dKS0kURG2Mi4sD5-Y5qlaAuQSrUJVMczG9LWD-JNf3sIp_q4cUBweP0BsC8z2gbIPfA/s320/IMG_2104.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxPC6Q3jAyZ7GVYIcVvNYJFamtrdKuoKGszyykasTTkJHeFFkSqnwaI_QW1RIBJyGXmj23JF_ezot_bF7pC5H5qLQ2tu4LsrZ9Tj2fg_EUyimX63PWNvTY9oXADbZkxCYC7omYlmEqqlbVXOoCgJIjXVqd1ecrYJy6hFtvfjrQVN2eZZDhqgem3dsiw/s4032/IMG_2105.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHxPC6Q3jAyZ7GVYIcVvNYJFamtrdKuoKGszyykasTTkJHeFFkSqnwaI_QW1RIBJyGXmj23JF_ezot_bF7pC5H5qLQ2tu4LsrZ9Tj2fg_EUyimX63PWNvTY9oXADbZkxCYC7omYlmEqqlbVXOoCgJIjXVqd1ecrYJy6hFtvfjrQVN2eZZDhqgem3dsiw/s320/IMG_2105.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>No #ThirstyThursday tomorrow so I'll try and bang out part 7 - BRAPA holiday coming soon so watch out for my adventures on Twitter from Friday night onwards as I tackle a county where I only have FOUR ticks at present, all in the same town! <div><br /></div><div>Take care, Si <br /><p><br /></p></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-56890323432436149862022-11-22T20:52:00.004+00:002022-11-22T20:52:52.877+00:00BRAPA in ..... NEW(PORT) BEGINNINGS : GWENTY IS PLENTY (Part 5/12)<p>I've pub ticked in Newport Essex, Newport Shropshire, Newport Isle of Wight, and I'd certainly have ticked Newport East Yorkshire if it had a GBG pub. But I'd never been to the Welsh Newport, perhaps the most famous of the lot. I once read it was the suicide capital of the UK, but with a solid six GBG entries, that was hard to believe. </p><p>Monday 3rd October 11am, and you know what Monday's are like, scratting around for any sort of pub sustenance. Luckily, Gwentish options were plentiful so I take myself off to the bus station where suddenly the suicide stats made sense, before making the short journey to Caerleon, which is basically outer Newport.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xsB-rZnzMCovWsZT6ButX2_rVeKLFfj-LlEqmE3SJOvsW34QVpW8n-GMVLqnxJQA5yWVOCvsW4CTQfuvhHjexBSAf7DoSfyjyO2ya_P5d1kIbnXFwvUnty7nzGne1ysvFEPnAo-cxZO3qOHIlFhjuhcIK-7na3SwKOW-qRWJEUyZ5ZxITtd5NmpdqA/s4032/IMG_2076.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2xsB-rZnzMCovWsZT6ButX2_rVeKLFfj-LlEqmE3SJOvsW34QVpW8n-GMVLqnxJQA5yWVOCvsW4CTQfuvhHjexBSAf7DoSfyjyO2ya_P5d1kIbnXFwvUnty7nzGne1ysvFEPnAo-cxZO3qOHIlFhjuhcIK-7na3SwKOW-qRWJEUyZ5ZxITtd5NmpdqA/s320/IMG_2076.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY23kLahV1ML7n2EeghMc4182MpZCa-59ulRj9qM7tBFXlzGaDmSKeu_SzhwYLs4JysPIzX-w_jHTJ_qAFBiPVASvax4lGjEmbTgXjAN-7yZ6iZAwwzsKLK4EN94pDfvhQ4vJ6Q8ErcrzL3oMV1FVgBGuqFIMNwgPDN8O-J726UvTWSIV01jz1amYzOw/s4032/IMG_2072.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY23kLahV1ML7n2EeghMc4182MpZCa-59ulRj9qM7tBFXlzGaDmSKeu_SzhwYLs4JysPIzX-w_jHTJ_qAFBiPVASvax4lGjEmbTgXjAN-7yZ6iZAwwzsKLK4EN94pDfvhQ4vJ6Q8ErcrzL3oMV1FVgBGuqFIMNwgPDN8O-J726UvTWSIV01jz1amYzOw/s320/IMG_2072.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAqTWyAEbpi1uczn75NXPvC8DW9rb9sscZcoGskFC2gyypgkAMs3lKwkfpxnVf5j_nVg6aShJ7n2DN5UKa7dZ4DIU5yxkv77Uz2R2sy-4yem_Ni3zpdmLqGkKAqkKZK_BoreEgxmefhoRYz26_CLOVcRq6Dz3cLROHrj1AyWvE1FOwjT2OAafAMJ9hcw/s2677/IMG_2071.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1522" data-original-width="2677" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAqTWyAEbpi1uczn75NXPvC8DW9rb9sscZcoGskFC2gyypgkAMs3lKwkfpxnVf5j_nVg6aShJ7n2DN5UKa7dZ4DIU5yxkv77Uz2R2sy-4yem_Ni3zpdmLqGkKAqkKZK_BoreEgxmefhoRYz26_CLOVcRq6Dz3cLROHrj1AyWvE1FOwjT2OAafAMJ9hcw/s320/IMG_2071.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>As you can probably tell from the above photos, location is everything at the <b>Hanbury Arms, Caerleon (2425 / 3989) </b>, the interior was certainly unspectacular, a bare wooden dining place, the only colour provided by our fabulous hostess with the pink hair and piercings, one of the friendliest of many friendly staff members I'd meet all week. Rev James was about the only ale on, 'groan' I thought, but perhaps it is because I associate it with Ember Inns, because this was a delightful malty drop, best enjoyed outside at high noon, the sun shimmering on the bonny bonny banks of the Usk. An old man with red socks sits and stares at nothing, he's got the right idea, and when a bloke arrives with a droopy flower it looks like he's yanked from a nearby flowerbed, he presents it to the lady who has come to join him for lunch, giving her a kiss on the forehead in the process. Romance lives in Caerleon.</p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>Nah, despite the quality of the Rev James, one (or two) ales on often isn't enough for the CAMRA's who have replaced it with a different Caerleon pub offering Landlord, HPA and Butty Bach. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRunTXIWjNDXDDu36Oo6W86142pxSFqYzA5Pvm9mv282AZP_2OY7tK5FHJqQT5l4qStIKHSQXpyRyOLHDPV97wwtZ1jSTIoxNEwkq4R4KxYsU4fB7B4wfBTZang70_koel0yMyu7tsX0g-4u3zHxsdjGjeW9yOxj6tQ6-KzLiKzCvYepDlIYZkT4s8Vw/s4032/IMG_2074.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRunTXIWjNDXDDu36Oo6W86142pxSFqYzA5Pvm9mv282AZP_2OY7tK5FHJqQT5l4qStIKHSQXpyRyOLHDPV97wwtZ1jSTIoxNEwkq4R4KxYsU4fB7B4wfBTZang70_koel0yMyu7tsX0g-4u3zHxsdjGjeW9yOxj6tQ6-KzLiKzCvYepDlIYZkT4s8Vw/s320/IMG_2074.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEA6jyJ9HUndwqkX5O-Lt1dJXZt89j3_NUYxhuX3KBq6ocbUh1ls4ayq887tiXfYeHxxKH5w7aimDRUhjZcCjCVHdJMriHqFLJFU0-PCUCGaMeB5Y2NOMU53TYyXYQhZhBjU-BeKt99mn2RicdE5GsDK2ZCHQmwgy0KdEN2uUFT7GITA72g8BEmE1-vQ/s4032/IMG_2075.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEA6jyJ9HUndwqkX5O-Lt1dJXZt89j3_NUYxhuX3KBq6ocbUh1ls4ayq887tiXfYeHxxKH5w7aimDRUhjZcCjCVHdJMriHqFLJFU0-PCUCGaMeB5Y2NOMU53TYyXYQhZhBjU-BeKt99mn2RicdE5GsDK2ZCHQmwgy0KdEN2uUFT7GITA72g8BEmE1-vQ/s320/IMG_2075.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAw6mEVU3VNCozfECkCnXW3ywi02J9x92VCY_tZsV_JmN5eC4c4vW0KYVI1L1muaESAsv4sxTir8D5641FHj5Vzv1oAi3bFcS9SpYLGFzhzHS3X2ztF7EalU3TZ6KLNe3Gn8wK7xWB0kK1ZcEKlxQ2hsHBcFVSlI7rTdevp6ueZ19aIKUNBhLg9XbjrA/s3024/IMG_2077.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1932" data-original-width="3024" height="204" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAw6mEVU3VNCozfECkCnXW3ywi02J9x92VCY_tZsV_JmN5eC4c4vW0KYVI1L1muaESAsv4sxTir8D5641FHj5Vzv1oAi3bFcS9SpYLGFzhzHS3X2ztF7EalU3TZ6KLNe3Gn8wK7xWB0kK1ZcEKlxQ2hsHBcFVSlI7rTdevp6ueZ19aIKUNBhLg9XbjrA/s320/IMG_2077.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><p>Although my next pub was actually listed under Newport, it was a short walk from here , it was even on Caerleon Road .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUiEjxHVbhfHs6JeoQOhTxRsmugokQebfkdOKTtaBShWrpmBBoeVjr0PT4sHXCRbkkIaemqFSJZqG1AF9Rridb8UZzzJgkPf7vG562cwPWHWPAYeThHybp9R8ZG2tfdixPSIq9MPZ5AmFrXrB1QEAilL1gTKQa1fFqPcWmIHB8VHg1y52FDDS1252bw/s3836/IMG_2079.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3836" data-original-width="2988" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheUiEjxHVbhfHs6JeoQOhTxRsmugokQebfkdOKTtaBShWrpmBBoeVjr0PT4sHXCRbkkIaemqFSJZqG1AF9Rridb8UZzzJgkPf7vG562cwPWHWPAYeThHybp9R8ZG2tfdixPSIq9MPZ5AmFrXrB1QEAilL1gTKQa1fFqPcWmIHB8VHg1y52FDDS1252bw/s320/IMG_2079.HEIC" width="249" /></a></div><p>With a classic inn sign and a lovely plain frontage, from this angle at least, hopes were high for the <b>St Julian Inn, Newport (2426 / 3990). </b>After all, every time it got mentioned later on in this holiday, or on Twitter, the consensus seemed to be 'cor ain't it bladdy lovely?' But I found it a bit of a moody gloom pot, and the joys of autumn which swept over me whilst outside at the Hanbury quickly evaporated. The staff didn't help by refusing to smile or make eye contact at any juncture, even when I was sat alone on a low leather settee just by the kitchen door, which got frequent usage. My beer was from Bristol Beer Factory, and this pub had quite the range for those of you who sneer at anything too popular. I didn't think it was fab quality though. It was a pub of two halves. A bright shiny conservatory looking out onto the river was inhabited by elderly ladies who not only lunch, but lunch in lycra. A bit like watching a snake eating a rodent, you could see the digestion process in all its horrible glory. I sat in the larger pubbier main area, where two local Jezza Kyle types with arses hanging out of trackie bottoms played pool and drank lager in a disconsolate manner, despite you could argue, living the dream. Only a few fruit machine twinkled as blissfully as the Usk in the sun. I returned my glass to the bar at the end and got a contorted attempt at a goodbye smile from the bloke who'd had the most potential. Yup, I was struggling to shake this suicide stat. </p><p><b>Still in GBG? </b>Course it is, bright shiny beers from exciting places that ain't Brains, Wye Valley or Fullers? Local CAM's wetting themselves with excitement, probably.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7XjRWEcSnP2vcostrCebDpNbCb_Y0sGVlTUXbx3jhRZSnpPx-X_rPZSwxJvM12ZsfuPM99byHHgQUqWNR79X-7Gsgvw9FGJFl9h-6HtBxonxh5nTNP23JLQyRgrCKof1kDS2w59sIU6SVeM9Inq7FEfWk4TwGN7WGC7Qpb79hvp69qk9zvZrUVsZMA/s4032/IMG_2082.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp7XjRWEcSnP2vcostrCebDpNbCb_Y0sGVlTUXbx3jhRZSnpPx-X_rPZSwxJvM12ZsfuPM99byHHgQUqWNR79X-7Gsgvw9FGJFl9h-6HtBxonxh5nTNP23JLQyRgrCKof1kDS2w59sIU6SVeM9Inq7FEfWk4TwGN7WGC7Qpb79hvp69qk9zvZrUVsZMA/s320/IMG_2082.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1AVAZ_DAkvCB9W-pyDv8p8cUKs0JSJjaWSJp-S8uHa_mFwL57io-VBLZoEVG0zy1dAL8OII7slzdXcThMO_nPiV1p_z4BFGK8A-wRwuWILTuXz1A_D7M_DApIasCsr7FSWouZS_GSBNQCQ1uVBBIBynQzYsuSS1YNjsNNaLc3EGm-f52q2A8QjQPyA/s3024/IMG_2083.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2802" data-original-width="3024" height="297" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj1AVAZ_DAkvCB9W-pyDv8p8cUKs0JSJjaWSJp-S8uHa_mFwL57io-VBLZoEVG0zy1dAL8OII7slzdXcThMO_nPiV1p_z4BFGK8A-wRwuWILTuXz1A_D7M_DApIasCsr7FSWouZS_GSBNQCQ1uVBBIBynQzYsuSS1YNjsNNaLc3EGm-f52q2A8QjQPyA/s320/IMG_2083.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj389sKI4NTcf7UAjFx-O9rf7C4ZYBon3OW55FKYmUdURIUTPy-m9QAIi8sNnAanKC0lvXjZ1pxtLOGylB2xLbMwSnK73cnyfl_UZmui_TE66bOmZaBfKkgm8V3ALaiPqojgLWO7F_YqtvE4XvSkizaJfnUjQEEjVcu0W5gIktC6oEnBuV-QDYMyjPdWQ/s3326/IMG_2084.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3326" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj389sKI4NTcf7UAjFx-O9rf7C4ZYBon3OW55FKYmUdURIUTPy-m9QAIi8sNnAanKC0lvXjZ1pxtLOGylB2xLbMwSnK73cnyfl_UZmui_TE66bOmZaBfKkgm8V3ALaiPqojgLWO7F_YqtvE4XvSkizaJfnUjQEEjVcu0W5gIktC6oEnBuV-QDYMyjPdWQ/s320/IMG_2084.HEIC" width="291" /></a></div><p>I took a bus back into Newport because they were plentiful and we were still a good 2.5 miles out of town, though I'm pleased to report that my right knee and right hip which I don't like to talk about were much recovered from the weekend's exploits. Pub three and the final one in Part 5 was nice and central.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpY_E95zsrLkeHXrzXZW78rvP-WRx06r5zd6yRBNICacJd6dzCEt-fCSnV1Hfi2KTVXqu91fQvHHYgAySyt0AsOTz6XJWjedLoqo1OleJJK275vc1_NuRDsobvEKG5LMaHkL_vxJ4znzjSJfS090KSxbXr7MxbDBvNZ_w00tbcarZmUVJ-pfDpwFOMw/s3024/IMG_2085.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2758" data-original-width="3024" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggpY_E95zsrLkeHXrzXZW78rvP-WRx06r5zd6yRBNICacJd6dzCEt-fCSnV1Hfi2KTVXqu91fQvHHYgAySyt0AsOTz6XJWjedLoqo1OleJJK275vc1_NuRDsobvEKG5LMaHkL_vxJ4znzjSJfS090KSxbXr7MxbDBvNZ_w00tbcarZmUVJ-pfDpwFOMw/s320/IMG_2085.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><p>Easily the best of the two local Tiny Rebel bars I visited today, <b>Tiny Rebel, Newport (2427 / 3991) </b>benefited from having a fair few people turning over the cask, even on a Monday. They had special Bez and Shaun Ryder themed all day 'happy hour' going on (Happy Mondays, I might've made that up), and it £2.50 for a nice pint of something wheaty and murky. I say this with some surprise because some of the worst beers I've had all year are Tiny Rebel - my fault entirely, not theirs, I always know what I'm getting myself into ordering stuff like 'Battenberg', 'Pink Grapefruit' and 'Oat Milk & Rusk' flavoured brews, they always pique my interest, I go full pint of course cos it is the only way to drink, and regret it quarter of the way in! Can you be too experimental? I'm talking about beer so much because the place is exactly as you'd imagine, hip young things, cool music, terrifying Roy Keane mural, cute yellow dragons, shabby chic industrial bollocks (not literally, though that'd be interesting wall art I'd not put past them). I even got a free taste of the Banoffee cider but I wasn't rushing to say yum, sickly sweet. A bit cosier downstairs by the loo, probably nicer on a busy evening this place, and respect where it is due to TR. </p><p><b>Still in GBG? </b>Course it bloody is, untouchable I'd guess in the year 2022. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisuhMYEXimbib0gAGJSyYyBLzMcD_coETmGPl2s9j3kD-SB9rThQ_nA2d_-Ret53E_NWlyB8wARsl8Z1Kt_6Rp0ts7c2X4_nYE1FD6jnXUhmBcEN4O-ufkysJC_uZK8YQGFBPsScwnvdsyrQu5TVekJLMIEudLvOzNfIuDtkf6Ya8z3F2L-6OgBvVoxQ/s2935/IMG_2087.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2812" data-original-width="2935" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisuhMYEXimbib0gAGJSyYyBLzMcD_coETmGPl2s9j3kD-SB9rThQ_nA2d_-Ret53E_NWlyB8wARsl8Z1Kt_6Rp0ts7c2X4_nYE1FD6jnXUhmBcEN4O-ufkysJC_uZK8YQGFBPsScwnvdsyrQu5TVekJLMIEudLvOzNfIuDtkf6Ya8z3F2L-6OgBvVoxQ/s320/IMG_2087.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh81Zf1f7fy-dY5dBGYl7M6VCi4S13rXhG8zDRoGsXdB90f5VcdomqSKreXkRWdRD7oIqvAo9MpVGtyx4Mx5s-pZON1utqqqraipqgcWqMqmkKhWA6E3q208mXO1h6KlYVOIQ4e4kZPXXNnm2CRrj1_rq79aAE3ypWEzuOGOjo8SWq87u8Wosa3WIsQ5A/s3024/IMG_2088.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2903" data-original-width="3024" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh81Zf1f7fy-dY5dBGYl7M6VCi4S13rXhG8zDRoGsXdB90f5VcdomqSKreXkRWdRD7oIqvAo9MpVGtyx4Mx5s-pZON1utqqqraipqgcWqMqmkKhWA6E3q208mXO1h6KlYVOIQ4e4kZPXXNnm2CRrj1_rq79aAE3ypWEzuOGOjo8SWq87u8Wosa3WIsQ5A/s320/IMG_2088.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQLKtnUIioc6wkuYdw__CT343B0azZesWvBdetSHUMvi9An6-nxncs-eYM8Slk_Re8gaxztopE07-BOvp9FRqZTWvnjhjJDKafQ3y6gW1TSZNvJMx2vOR818w8bI1_9QnjfIy91NHs86B8LOUEWvx7O01GRe7qrb3xjEucAuBAPIQjkpSvRceCjN6teA/s3101/IMG_2089.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3101" data-original-width="3021" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQLKtnUIioc6wkuYdw__CT343B0azZesWvBdetSHUMvi9An6-nxncs-eYM8Slk_Re8gaxztopE07-BOvp9FRqZTWvnjhjJDKafQ3y6gW1TSZNvJMx2vOR818w8bI1_9QnjfIy91NHs86B8LOUEWvx7O01GRe7qrb3xjEucAuBAPIQjkpSvRceCjN6teA/s320/IMG_2089.HEIC" width="312" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XJgssH9FzHCn1YUIwinsrJNdOP6RpG4PTqpTZgBMRtLYJCOLL7kbE04wwVO9Os9DaD56BXhkPUnH7JtpdR8XpjU_Cqk900CoBa_9q6TWSwDJ_SlvIFr6B4lQz0L0vMCQ5OaMTeNbSrcytmcJBB9BvpNzvdtSylUlxMbeoz4sxQazR9b1OHkqwFKf0A/s1024/IMG_2091.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="780" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1XJgssH9FzHCn1YUIwinsrJNdOP6RpG4PTqpTZgBMRtLYJCOLL7kbE04wwVO9Os9DaD56BXhkPUnH7JtpdR8XpjU_Cqk900CoBa_9q6TWSwDJ_SlvIFr6B4lQz0L0vMCQ5OaMTeNbSrcytmcJBB9BvpNzvdtSylUlxMbeoz4sxQazR9b1OHkqwFKf0A/s320/IMG_2091.JPG" width="244" /></a></div><br /><p>I'm seriously considering moving blogging operations away from Blogger and onto Wix in the near future .... uploading photo errors must be adding a good 20 minutes to each blog I write. Wouldn't be bad if Twitter goes under, I could have a totally fresh start in 2023. </p><p>No Thirsty Thursday or Wobbly Wednesday this week, I'm being sober and good, well, until Friday night so will keep the blogs coming up until my latest holiday. See you tomorrow for more from Newport and Tiny Rebel. </p><p>Si </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-20520203014733301042022-11-21T20:31:00.001+00:002022-11-22T19:05:40.088+00:00BRAPA is .... BRIDGE INN THE GAP : DON'T (LLAN)FOIST IT UPON ME (GWENTY IS PLENTY PART 4/12)<p> 2:20pm on 2nd October, and it was time for my third and final of Brecon's GBG pubs ......</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd1yhyP2SnG8uo2aYNXigk5TzyzzctFLlBl1cGQUvYIqqmoHBFCq-551GjpKhhDeCdL_CC3gQi3TS7HIOMqFsAY6H2kTmX6oYB8gtZSnmM8ilMoMRF0NYgiIrMbQE8CgDwK2TuCD-3OFoOgRrnTQflU7owiGwLbRMpK4XJZOR8ObeLK-0BAsb9U47kFQ/s4032/IMG_2050.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd1yhyP2SnG8uo2aYNXigk5TzyzzctFLlBl1cGQUvYIqqmoHBFCq-551GjpKhhDeCdL_CC3gQi3TS7HIOMqFsAY6H2kTmX6oYB8gtZSnmM8ilMoMRF0NYgiIrMbQE8CgDwK2TuCD-3OFoOgRrnTQflU7owiGwLbRMpK4XJZOR8ObeLK-0BAsb9U47kFQ/s320/IMG_2050.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>And the <b>Clarence, Brecon (2423 / 3987) </b>would prove to be my 'Goldilocks' pub. The George Hotel had been a bit too Wetherspoonsy, the Brecon Tap had been a bit too Microey, but the Clarence was just right. My only sighting of Wye Valley Bitter all week, despite the HPA and their glassware being rather too omnipresent, and it was immaculate. The barman was a gent, the carpet was an 8/10, even the pile of logs wasn't too random, a wood burner in close proximity. The front room at least, was pure pub. A ginormous group of pre-booked foodies filled a less cosier back bar, but out of sight out of mind was my motto here. Okay, so I was a bit jealous that they got the benefit of piped Kylie and P.M. Dawn, but for the most part, I was a picture of contentment. Sunday afternoon is a great time to be in a pub.</p><p><b>In 2023 GBG? </b>Frustratingly not. Brecon CAMRA seem to have gone full crafty, leaving in Brecon Tap and ditching this and the 'Spoons in favour of a 'Hop in Beer & Gin House' which I almost certainly won't get to in the next twelve months. I'll do it with Bwlch in 2035.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ec_yBaKJdVIqERs4geodHZUQhPR7k9I84-2fzke21C_9M9-SER2LQJQiaChGNEeUjk9_WqLYTCV68_i7w15u_hFQxVfkZg4WJPMyEW_2PtDTUtF3zoypBSEPX-OcH92k0toiTauX0bWQXfXZXf1u-XEZtc-k_KinoGBQq3HQhSRYIxWxMjqW99giew/s4032/IMG_2051.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ec_yBaKJdVIqERs4geodHZUQhPR7k9I84-2fzke21C_9M9-SER2LQJQiaChGNEeUjk9_WqLYTCV68_i7w15u_hFQxVfkZg4WJPMyEW_2PtDTUtF3zoypBSEPX-OcH92k0toiTauX0bWQXfXZXf1u-XEZtc-k_KinoGBQq3HQhSRYIxWxMjqW99giew/s320/IMG_2051.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh66gLpd2dTEPYSnwDx88b2UnaAPrf21CUW4Oluyptc3hi8BV-EhmH4nHSi610ZnpW4aFysYEcnlKcK0Yeh9Xq9P5Xk1vM8pwyYn6if2qsMGXPkrxqV1bmCUP1-kl3rXMLuaamccNXvxsF0sOPKalbpqhO6DZXTJL6llw9C4t01W3CCrZKUVTUjRN6EBw/s4032/IMG_2052.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh66gLpd2dTEPYSnwDx88b2UnaAPrf21CUW4Oluyptc3hi8BV-EhmH4nHSi610ZnpW4aFysYEcnlKcK0Yeh9Xq9P5Xk1vM8pwyYn6if2qsMGXPkrxqV1bmCUP1-kl3rXMLuaamccNXvxsF0sOPKalbpqhO6DZXTJL6llw9C4t01W3CCrZKUVTUjRN6EBw/s320/IMG_2052.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZpFOQ_PEuEmJpyVOEaxRgZ6H9saT9qKZOL62emY9MEWJLVxvkG0JXaO0pJ_d604AB8LEZgdqxy08A2EapAA5BujmFv03abxYJ3mo6aUsDWHmLfIAyG39QGHGwsiEdqMTfsqxqQTnmzpyTaVLDLp0UiBrwdxo_TsUv8is210U39WC5tmPsVCgEW_QwhA/s4032/IMG_2053.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZpFOQ_PEuEmJpyVOEaxRgZ6H9saT9qKZOL62emY9MEWJLVxvkG0JXaO0pJ_d604AB8LEZgdqxy08A2EapAA5BujmFv03abxYJ3mo6aUsDWHmLfIAyG39QGHGwsiEdqMTfsqxqQTnmzpyTaVLDLp0UiBrwdxo_TsUv8is210U39WC5tmPsVCgEW_QwhA/s320/IMG_2053.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZoLzYKrnW0RMcKv1UueO6ulwcB6mbgSOmgOJZtTC9WmT8wgIyIaxqtjGlXCZklLe1BCH6o7oPbq6RSe_5FWS2E0qBVwGkiD5iOAuNJOfYuNSMAIbyiWHM-4DUu7uvpc_tFszDjScBkRUd4Qg6vK2vuqX_mbaC-xVa6TfOGBP05ysZ1CLyvfhsWwLJQ/s4032/IMG_2054.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZoLzYKrnW0RMcKv1UueO6ulwcB6mbgSOmgOJZtTC9WmT8wgIyIaxqtjGlXCZklLe1BCH6o7oPbq6RSe_5FWS2E0qBVwGkiD5iOAuNJOfYuNSMAIbyiWHM-4DUu7uvpc_tFszDjScBkRUd4Qg6vK2vuqX_mbaC-xVa6TfOGBP05ysZ1CLyvfhsWwLJQ/s320/IMG_2054.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmK0ZSqoKg3CMZIA7nePdraQOOAOb1gNBq4q1AYcSiqmEoAPE5mm9G8tvKHsineexwiPstdtQK87rQTPORgV9R6RHYnobGawsD6nTgr_xWR6_45Ff8Lwz3hsGxrCeCzJvnfaD053A5ykzFU5crsBBDXkYoePjfbzLWCUSHN2xbTiEQcU88KzORZy1Tg/s4032/IMG_2055.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNmK0ZSqoKg3CMZIA7nePdraQOOAOb1gNBq4q1AYcSiqmEoAPE5mm9G8tvKHsineexwiPstdtQK87rQTPORgV9R6RHYnobGawsD6nTgr_xWR6_45Ff8Lwz3hsGxrCeCzJvnfaD053A5ykzFU5crsBBDXkYoePjfbzLWCUSHN2xbTiEQcU88KzORZy1Tg/s320/IMG_2055.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>As much as I would've loved to stay on this bus route and tackle the likes of Bwlch, Crickhowell, Llandgynidr, Pencelli and Groesfford, a sparsity of bus services plus my aching bottom half (which I don't like to talk about) meant that a return to Abergavenny was the only option. </p><p>Slim Pickens, as the cowboy said to the actor (oh I miss Wine, Westerns and Wotsits nights, didn't have to leave the house!) so I had to be imaginative and come up with the decent pre-emptive. This was the non-GBG pub that kept being mentioned, and actually was in the 2021 Guide.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3e4cAodZgPB0ul46DREj81kE_6Odi2Y6VzRA7u11B2Z9sa_qqrDSLcVPan5rc0SnY5xZLcWCdLPCZG0rr5HpZO89FK71Ccpr4tEqiw_5iS8btRrPbvMGZhu-BJZd_cwaTb55YzT_YXZU_C5jHuPb_QdzU-qpxrRVSLuwIbn4zzjG1PSThapZInjyHaA/s3807/IMG_2056.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3807" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3e4cAodZgPB0ul46DREj81kE_6Odi2Y6VzRA7u11B2Z9sa_qqrDSLcVPan5rc0SnY5xZLcWCdLPCZG0rr5HpZO89FK71Ccpr4tEqiw_5iS8btRrPbvMGZhu-BJZd_cwaTb55YzT_YXZU_C5jHuPb_QdzU-qpxrRVSLuwIbn4zzjG1PSThapZInjyHaA/s320/IMG_2056.HEIC" width="254" /></a></div><br /><p>I knew from the moment I pushed through the 'Vaults' room door at <b>Station Hotel, Abergavenny (pre-emptive) </b>that I'd struck gold. And that was even before I tasted the Bass, which was an A* Bass and I've drunk enough of it this year, mostly good ones, to know. Someone on Twitter's father-in-law agreed with my assessment, and as Bass king TheWickingMan said, FiL's are the most reliable sources. Only my most recent pint of it in East Markham was on a par. I'll probably get to writing about that pub next Easter. The Station had a bawdy local atmosphere, though a 'sensible' youthful guv'nor, and it was only this earlier sober hour which prevented it from becoming a full on balls-to-the-wall Y Cantreff experience from the previous night. Suddenly Brecon's Clarence seemed distinctly less pubby. Folk played cards in the back room, a smoky smell took you back pre-2007, folk talked about shopping, washing and household chores, and it was only when there was a mass migration for the exit door that a bloke with a short body but long arms, think a Welsh Mr Tickle, decided to ask what my game was. Give this pub a more vibrant colour scheme, ditch the spider lights, and you've got a pub of the year contender. A real step back in time and I couldn't stop smiling.</p><p><b>In the new GBG? </b>Yes! I'd have rioted otherwise. Can only assume its year of absence was due to change of ownership / temporary closure, or some other technicality. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xhY8aaUEwSdlxu_Kug8NqznUNT3MlM33_BFgivnoUL1Z8gMF18H0X2To6sZvuyZ9zmoB8tiLZFBtFzzbcM0q4zeOVESShDwu2yWvadIwkTDtxXpva1Rqdr0ZRv9IpfijbDvRg-F6aNBUteKSQvnReQifiGxx58_9VZPJzWCzfyuCsLZwTeUJ9f8spw/s4032/IMG_2057.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0xhY8aaUEwSdlxu_Kug8NqznUNT3MlM33_BFgivnoUL1Z8gMF18H0X2To6sZvuyZ9zmoB8tiLZFBtFzzbcM0q4zeOVESShDwu2yWvadIwkTDtxXpva1Rqdr0ZRv9IpfijbDvRg-F6aNBUteKSQvnReQifiGxx58_9VZPJzWCzfyuCsLZwTeUJ9f8spw/s320/IMG_2057.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3jhrzDIpbJD42llz76cw7Bh4VLvFEeccp3zC0qPgNAT9ZAPMz6hKCcLUOC0WBpF6fQI0mFDxhFzpW9aa_L0tIrt2QovPuezvoYbAW53k-43yksfhsgXB8Ntj8eA_esmfrf9pSUItsyJ9BcxQxsgxQyPhvp91JtiKtT21fYpmKVhP5_Py7RiQ9Tr5Jg/s4032/IMG_2059.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgO3jhrzDIpbJD42llz76cw7Bh4VLvFEeccp3zC0qPgNAT9ZAPMz6hKCcLUOC0WBpF6fQI0mFDxhFzpW9aa_L0tIrt2QovPuezvoYbAW53k-43yksfhsgXB8Ntj8eA_esmfrf9pSUItsyJ9BcxQxsgxQyPhvp91JtiKtT21fYpmKVhP5_Py7RiQ9Tr5Jg/s320/IMG_2059.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSrsgjD8mVYptXSQvdSkyOfOMBJiyWnMJs7QJeN8O06h-TEsCQlgep2u9r7UkoVaZ0XFTNkQEEJmT_V8hUwE2VAtjj9qE9zs_j4Ii5L8CHT16ogd3F22WWO1hmqLaoyj5a_fYzu7XJibwpaqSAMq46aWXtHMyZwOxFfRgOnx9Lf9hgyGMuNKGdaEy6ag/s4032/IMG_2061.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSrsgjD8mVYptXSQvdSkyOfOMBJiyWnMJs7QJeN8O06h-TEsCQlgep2u9r7UkoVaZ0XFTNkQEEJmT_V8hUwE2VAtjj9qE9zs_j4Ii5L8CHT16ogd3F22WWO1hmqLaoyj5a_fYzu7XJibwpaqSAMq46aWXtHMyZwOxFfRgOnx9Lf9hgyGMuNKGdaEy6ag/s320/IMG_2061.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>The Station folk had suggested I pop into the Railway over the road, but then laughed to themselves and told me that whilst I'd receive a hearty welcome and get some fantastic blog material, the beer was bad, it'd take me ages to get served, and it had no chance of making the GBG any time soon!</p><p>Not to worry, because close to my Premier Inn, and about a 20 minute walk from here (25 today as my legs were currently big lumps of lead), my 'local' for the week could be found nestling on the other side of the river across the bridge separating 'Gavenny from Llanfoist. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6jWxuE3zcSyur9xCh9Fc7U5IYqQib-SpKLpLeJ9TLRV1pTiW1pkb_3FKJBw6gj603R__RDNLCu8mAEW-2Rg58IJTbNdwhlggprmRgOH4Z8eH-J48MYGLoBxBo7P1GA1i8S9EzWBgrAsr026DCrBSe8on5vVm4AYEDL5PLJM99l2I-4ufIenw0xiYh_w/s4032/IMG_2062.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6jWxuE3zcSyur9xCh9Fc7U5IYqQib-SpKLpLeJ9TLRV1pTiW1pkb_3FKJBw6gj603R__RDNLCu8mAEW-2Rg58IJTbNdwhlggprmRgOH4Z8eH-J48MYGLoBxBo7P1GA1i8S9EzWBgrAsr026DCrBSe8on5vVm4AYEDL5PLJM99l2I-4ufIenw0xiYh_w/s320/IMG_2062.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEG_1U6LEfSn15el0tIVwUojT8lgtiRD_CswdV63l7u3IC0aarJcGDOVz2mreigtya5YOoY2op5qvvnLn01P133gGDrHiHb6T16iHKBMxcx_Lsf9yOWHsPZ5WA-zvXPeVMoezceXvuzErurXwk2WcjPTGakmKlFUQ4CfP7zFJAV1yP55Sj8LFPRDqXUg/s4032/IMG_2063.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEG_1U6LEfSn15el0tIVwUojT8lgtiRD_CswdV63l7u3IC0aarJcGDOVz2mreigtya5YOoY2op5qvvnLn01P133gGDrHiHb6T16iHKBMxcx_Lsf9yOWHsPZ5WA-zvXPeVMoezceXvuzErurXwk2WcjPTGakmKlFUQ4CfP7zFJAV1yP55Sj8LFPRDqXUg/s320/IMG_2063.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><b>Bridge Inn, Llanfoist (2424 / 3988) </b>sums up everything which was wholesome about my week of pubbing in Gwent. A perfect example of a community local, it had everyone here from grandkids to grandparents - and I don't mean that in an annoying 'grrr, kids in pubs being twats due to twat parents, grrr' usual BRAPA kinda way, I just meant that folk flitted in, laughed, drank, sat, pissed off quite quickly, it was a living breathing ball of life. I had a Cwrw first, and pronounced it with the confidence of a man who'd been watching Welsh YouTube language videos for a week, and settled into a recess in this warm sweatbox of a pub. Folk fawning over a newborn baby upset the older sister, so she was given a bag of Mini Cheddars to placate her whining. I went to the bar and bought some, I cannot be in the presence of folk eating Mini Chedz or Wotsits or Pickled Onion Monster Munch without wanting my own. A Welsh flag fluttered joyfully behind me, as two blokes discuss their onion growing. I hear a 'pop' behind me, then a yelp of dismay, older sister's Mini Cheddars have exploded all over the floor. She's not having a good day the hapless little loser. On the other side, I hear a groan. An old bloke dressed as a canary (well he had a yellow jacket) is trying to stand up, but it is a struggle. With the heat stifling, I buy a Jemima's Pitchfork and take it outside to the beer garden, and I mean garden, lovely and green and spacious. The air is so fresh down here too. SEVEN taxi companies I ring to try to take me to Pantygelli to salvage a late fifth tick (I'd had a second wind by now) but when bloke no. 7 laughs and says 'no chance tonight boyo', I give it up as a bad job. Two dogs start fighting, a man dressed as Toadfish hits the Madri, and with a cold chill descending on Llanfoist, I decide to call it a night and start afresh, hopefully with better legs, tomorrow. <div><br /></div><div><b>Still in the GBG? </b>Of course, I'd have been horrified if not.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFD03hMiO_JnpX9rj65eXJ_V_0hDPA3qvZY8fETd31DKGwBn22sOfm8RTgJacMPXBuH_jUZLatoYCyEi0_dexj-Gl7LnXjC6DLF4y6VD9xEVoDXUdkqRKxl-VJIvc66lwkuqAYB2IgSYSrmmxqRu5z3-X3V7gEwozoHStf072KAWNFZQPCbYIghHFow/s4032/IMG_2064.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpFD03hMiO_JnpX9rj65eXJ_V_0hDPA3qvZY8fETd31DKGwBn22sOfm8RTgJacMPXBuH_jUZLatoYCyEi0_dexj-Gl7LnXjC6DLF4y6VD9xEVoDXUdkqRKxl-VJIvc66lwkuqAYB2IgSYSrmmxqRu5z3-X3V7gEwozoHStf072KAWNFZQPCbYIghHFow/s320/IMG_2064.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HrC6w-gq8RWC-JnmvGAQB6oiBlTSZHq97FfKJT-Xl7m_UmRXmm1_XK7lNCWF2tEFCoWl47vvOh6qSNXYbrsMuArmlKJ9lHuOIYTKpdX6_Kwf8SzowsW16UtnozBu-fJKReniak3aIC9f5bCh7rO_R6Vtr2koCrfaRemkXsr6za3Wx7my9czSEUhn3g/s4032/IMG_2065.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-HrC6w-gq8RWC-JnmvGAQB6oiBlTSZHq97FfKJT-Xl7m_UmRXmm1_XK7lNCWF2tEFCoWl47vvOh6qSNXYbrsMuArmlKJ9lHuOIYTKpdX6_Kwf8SzowsW16UtnozBu-fJKReniak3aIC9f5bCh7rO_R6Vtr2koCrfaRemkXsr6za3Wx7my9czSEUhn3g/s320/IMG_2065.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWxUi5C1xIlOhBWgSPa4WrRo2iA10255H33XuiN1g4ONTfjeFs5-kt8MI_y3AuHDzqJJAtDODWoDqi-wWVrmvpaowQwBsftunsa-FZwTCd8CcyuL0Iv4Qo3u-AmoCon-Jbjhmzo9NUmSDVYXExZ1BNCG8iOpkyg-sC2OGDdoXGqKTnQaXMt6UdRldNUQ/s4032/IMG_2066.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; 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margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0zMkNcu9kowMu4oRTAil6uUxj4JnxQC41Y0UG0S_OaCsSGY18IuClg9Gydfhwc8un1TfR-2DlafJzO3XiS-esOM9XRGa0X1O4cRF3rAfr9yx_rUkfsJ88s4C8ZbdGAbl9y7AULQgm9bQDuhagGeG-xRBdvOasE7Z1MjRFSU8TYGRBb1CfXsXyiN2rFg/s320/IMG_2069.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr15Qxy0JVwuGWe31rDVbcNPko2tbl4HGNykKsBTGhGI7wLnEVzUL2aXDtfYQzqO-LH_Zs5aQl37pKqsVewT3iJl-zH9BxQUqedycfJi5etU6hJXWtMdGrhXJIDLlOq3ClryL9OpbUHqY9rOZqaqMhX8TrY5Tm0XvPu0TSech6GFq9p6XeUPbQM_Giqw/s4032/IMG_2070.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr15Qxy0JVwuGWe31rDVbcNPko2tbl4HGNykKsBTGhGI7wLnEVzUL2aXDtfYQzqO-LH_Zs5aQl37pKqsVewT3iJl-zH9BxQUqedycfJi5etU6hJXWtMdGrhXJIDLlOq3ClryL9OpbUHqY9rOZqaqMhX8TrY5Tm0XvPu0TSech6GFq9p6XeUPbQM_Giqw/s320/IMG_2070.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>So with the north of Gwent nicely greening up, it was time to hit the Newport area tomorrow. Would it be a comedown, or similarly beautiful? Hmmm, join me in Part 5 to find out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Right, back to the USA v Wales which I've paused on live TV, 0-0 17 mins gone. </div><div><br /></div><div>Si <br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-60192933542161605652022-11-18T20:35:00.002+00:002022-11-22T19:05:30.964+00:00BRAPA in ..... THE DAY OF BRECONING IS BECKONING : Gwenty is Plenty Part 3/12<p>Day One of my Gwent debut was nearly at an end. I'd walked over 50,000 steps, my right knee and right hip hurt like buggery (not that I'll keep mentioning it!) The Skirrid Inn had scarred & scared me further, but safely back in Abergavenny having just ticked off the happily uneventful Grofield, the finish line was finally in sight.</p><p>But there was no way that this craziest of BRAPA days was about to go out with a whimper .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ6oov3IReZ0Ux79xlYXJUeBvlHvBFLSZ2K8QHS4d5fTMNz_Qk0StwZBvXuMVC2I83axnZvlXbc4aX5VezROsfWZcP_7LydjALZgCoMUjDVjYHOM8-vmGGEx07kXqQLbogkdHY_j2wgtLZXW2p4Hm5PgK-dB8JVxpKRdKbxg0Uw_vas5O2HUCrxT37nw/s3023/IMG_2032.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2078" data-original-width="3023" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ6oov3IReZ0Ux79xlYXJUeBvlHvBFLSZ2K8QHS4d5fTMNz_Qk0StwZBvXuMVC2I83axnZvlXbc4aX5VezROsfWZcP_7LydjALZgCoMUjDVjYHOM8-vmGGEx07kXqQLbogkdHY_j2wgtLZXW2p4Hm5PgK-dB8JVxpKRdKbxg0Uw_vas5O2HUCrxT37nw/w400-h275/IMG_2032.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>I lugged my giant bag of Tesco shopping into the darkened but very much open <b>Y Cantreff Inn, Abergavenny (2420 / 3984) </b>and although my experiences of Wales are few and far between, I'd say this was the most Welshest pub I'd ever been to. My arrival causes much consternation, 'a face we don't recognise!' but they soon recover themselves. I'm welcomed warmly by the pink landlady, and a pint of Grey Trees is a welcome change from Wye Valley, which was more ubiquitous than the most ubiquitous thing you can think of. It probably helps that I sit on 'phone charger station' table, so people are constantly nipping across for a bit of bonus juice and the odd jokey quip. A small TV is showing rugby, Merthyr v Newport I think, I'm told we are cheering for the black shirts! The stand out character is Tommo. He's lovely, but a walking calamity. Think Nanny from Count Duckula. He tries to turn the volume up on the rugby. But he ends up switching channel, and can't get it back. He is roundly castigated. Then, when a giant spider crawls across the mantelpiece to much excitement, he decides to be the knight in shining armour. "Fear not ladies, I've got this" he announces, leaps out of his seat at our eight legged friend, but misses, knocks a few things off, and the spid scuttles off behind the skirting board. Classic scenes. When the rugby finishes, I become the centre of attention. The younger lady must tell me to go to Hay on Wye, what .... about eight times?! One for each spider leg. I spin around to see Tommo behind the bar pulling a pint! 'Are... are you allowed to do that? ' I ask. 'I work here!' he replies. 'Oh I thought you were just a drunk local' I say. Pub is in hysterics, but I couldn't believe it. And he can't believe I've done the walk I say I've done despite my robust protestations. Thinks it physically impossible. 'Did you have that bag of Tesco shopping with you all day?' asks the landlady. Errrrm, no. I leave with some vague promises that I'll 'try' and make this my regular final stop off point for the week, but one I doubt I'll stick to. A whirlwind way to end day one. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6lj910emqCcJ_LdcU-g5igYIj2TYckvSToURmJRBQj-Np5OKusoMumGocMNqQqHBRbAYs9wsVRyGLzgIoxkxKV5rt3-QHDLki5YIDDS9eaDwwlbNPq_CqJD8CrSACYrg12A37pOgTDlD4s9LatdKp2GktLSnDmJMD4Gxh0xx43YJr06m89sQnBz4CRg/s4032/IMG_2035.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6lj910emqCcJ_LdcU-g5igYIj2TYckvSToURmJRBQj-Np5OKusoMumGocMNqQqHBRbAYs9wsVRyGLzgIoxkxKV5rt3-QHDLki5YIDDS9eaDwwlbNPq_CqJD8CrSACYrg12A37pOgTDlD4s9LatdKp2GktLSnDmJMD4Gxh0xx43YJr06m89sQnBz4CRg/w300-h400/IMG_2035.HEIC" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tommo rises</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDMVEnNkowRXIpNxIBJjLIlJMUuBp7TJ07l9zIH9wDQojgbz-b4uEQzaT1L7D7jU1Yu1LbGWAjS6aGLwv5crMB4XlJENcIA2j9rUOsBiMMfPdl6M0HTslEohZGRKbz1QSlXC-eBjGdtQyc7VMYHX3ruxsuCfcpnrDmI--3xm53KpSoFNw23BF0LfO1yg/s4032/IMG_2033.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDMVEnNkowRXIpNxIBJjLIlJMUuBp7TJ07l9zIH9wDQojgbz-b4uEQzaT1L7D7jU1Yu1LbGWAjS6aGLwv5crMB4XlJENcIA2j9rUOsBiMMfPdl6M0HTslEohZGRKbz1QSlXC-eBjGdtQyc7VMYHX3ruxsuCfcpnrDmI--3xm53KpSoFNw23BF0LfO1yg/s320/IMG_2033.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFd7o99cg-JnPdsM__HrByT0oe5tAM2P6TxBAdF7FjWm7Nh4EnR6f4nudEwPcT4oDIJhH7uDc2AGJWuhHMqinC51om9RcR2AQcOabFmTXdSq52tOkx63ovGbAiJHXH3T4XTevDAO2l0WOjoSqI_2peIItEyDtx_MFoEgx4GtINN6Zn6dsUHK2VUlzAg/s4032/IMG_2034.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigFd7o99cg-JnPdsM__HrByT0oe5tAM2P6TxBAdF7FjWm7Nh4EnR6f4nudEwPcT4oDIJhH7uDc2AGJWuhHMqinC51om9RcR2AQcOabFmTXdSq52tOkx63ovGbAiJHXH3T4XTevDAO2l0WOjoSqI_2peIItEyDtx_MFoEgx4GtINN6Zn6dsUHK2VUlzAg/s320/IMG_2034.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzgxiglGS8No3HFBNbkLdOqvFsMyHL6LcCcOcF8YgElduBhgTIbgY6q-sQjWD5Q1GsJ8J_ZkE_CyXtCI7VtpfVJpBx8Pw0hOfVxaAfEyECraUoPUlj4RWRM8zjbPEvG6tVMTc_QCWP0PZJWMFpBfTxOB2NUi5Tuk1QM4p__Qeu7NpuN9vi4YrfD_Xsw/s4032/IMG_2037.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzgxiglGS8No3HFBNbkLdOqvFsMyHL6LcCcOcF8YgElduBhgTIbgY6q-sQjWD5Q1GsJ8J_ZkE_CyXtCI7VtpfVJpBx8Pw0hOfVxaAfEyECraUoPUlj4RWRM8zjbPEvG6tVMTc_QCWP0PZJWMFpBfTxOB2NUi5Tuk1QM4p__Qeu7NpuN9vi4YrfD_Xsw/s320/IMG_2037.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>As my Cantreff friends had predicted, my GBG local, the Bridge Inn at Llanfoist closed at 10pm (even on a Saturday) but to be fair, I just want my bed so happily hobble the 25 minutes back to my Premier Inn.</p><p>When I wake on the Sunday morning, it feels like my legs have been replaced by two lumps of lead. I'm moving like a robot, and there are only three things on my shopping list. A knee support, plasters and a bottle of water. Boots has the answers.</p><p>Although today wasn't an official train strike day, there are no services running out of 'gavenny and being a Sunday, bus services are incredibly limited. I want an easy day, so I decide to cut my losses and take myself up to Brecon, even though it comes under 'Mid Wales' rather than Gwent. Three ticks there, let's have a steady day. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTe0ke3c_JFA2iUEbLMLrlTodCqTbqvEZ7MonacAj4rxZaEu4_j2KjoNw7izqrAcI4BSPKazUfRZR37kF8zF3QwDPupWTX43i8AIGy2_Yq2JlXOCS7eq-m8Xa2EMiDHBhqj1Ii6JsfXTR9ZljKYx7sfe5XoWVX52VTKqrjZIiZ1uFsIfJhPGO47qPIw/s3792/IMG_2039.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3792" data-original-width="3022" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTe0ke3c_JFA2iUEbLMLrlTodCqTbqvEZ7MonacAj4rxZaEu4_j2KjoNw7izqrAcI4BSPKazUfRZR37kF8zF3QwDPupWTX43i8AIGy2_Yq2JlXOCS7eq-m8Xa2EMiDHBhqj1Ii6JsfXTR9ZljKYx7sfe5XoWVX52VTKqrjZIiZ1uFsIfJhPGO47qPIw/s320/IMG_2039.HEIC" width="255" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTBWqGMGYjAx2_RgfZDySu39-1f3XFr2I0ps4CSQqy9P9s23ZW0Euk6yvM5BlF6aQDqXSItxlL0mI8NR7AaBOClMtJp6EHZHejrcH764NVdWNo5MC2jlCGV02AZbTaCE4BZ6KEtrTnjuYHHZ3_PC94HFZmDdyFTC4HJktyZGdjcwfGONSxzsBVlHelQ/s4032/IMG_2040.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikTBWqGMGYjAx2_RgfZDySu39-1f3XFr2I0ps4CSQqy9P9s23ZW0Euk6yvM5BlF6aQDqXSItxlL0mI8NR7AaBOClMtJp6EHZHejrcH764NVdWNo5MC2jlCGV02AZbTaCE4BZ6KEtrTnjuYHHZ3_PC94HFZmDdyFTC4HJktyZGdjcwfGONSxzsBVlHelQ/s320/IMG_2040.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>It is walking downhill which is the real killer on my right knee I don't like to talk about, and that's a shame because our first tick is down a slope. Owww.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAZiFiivP6_jh9xGBnhn5bdVk3SPSh-MVnaFw2gnSEnh_rTaXaK1a_s_cxWPdgBxLh_AnZNCwS5Bn5HtSmikbxsNsW1JghmVTUXu0YZdHpMlnHvgi3noL5I_N41Zo9C1-e53V3n4RTIpUSDBYCW7fa0KnGGp6gtVkaoBE4IFzMpVQZ5lQjlYU0NyWXA/s3580/IMG_2041.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3580" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLAZiFiivP6_jh9xGBnhn5bdVk3SPSh-MVnaFw2gnSEnh_rTaXaK1a_s_cxWPdgBxLh_AnZNCwS5Bn5HtSmikbxsNsW1JghmVTUXu0YZdHpMlnHvgi3noL5I_N41Zo9C1-e53V3n4RTIpUSDBYCW7fa0KnGGp6gtVkaoBE4IFzMpVQZ5lQjlYU0NyWXA/s320/IMG_2041.HEIC" width="270" /></a></div><br /><p>A sleepy Sunday lunchtime lull pervades every sinew of this solid Wetherspoons, <b>George Hotel, Brecon (2421 / 3985).</b> Is this a library? An ESB from Suffolk with a heron on the pump clip is a welcome sight, and I chug it down with a couple of Nurofen and try not to think about potential side effects and just focus on numbing my lower half. I count twelve lads in their twenties sat around waiting for burgers to arrive. Not one of them says a word, just 'tap tap tap' on their phones. The atmosphere would be quite eerie, but for 'lady in a booth' who hasn't got the memo, and is loudly commenting on every item on the menu, much to the embarrassment of her male companion. He's even forced to try her drink. "The rhubarb is quite pleasant", so he's getting tasting notes as well. I think I need a wee, I can't really tell because I can't feel much below the naval, so I sup up my ESB and head for the loo to be on the safe side.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vHKvrFO_F498RQkkU_dIv7DwvLjxsz3hrxJxitD8vRNJdbPnp7qB28F-1Q-mV4eBd8NfMVxebcnaLZUIM6pJKLZleie8pnjXwlhT24QCn_Sa9ne1NE6EWbPgJN71mMFOI4VuIolJk6dtar2nDplOVIPTOe6XIrPoTVC3As5jCqYQ8AJDAWosC0uWYg/s4032/IMG_2043.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vHKvrFO_F498RQkkU_dIv7DwvLjxsz3hrxJxitD8vRNJdbPnp7qB28F-1Q-mV4eBd8NfMVxebcnaLZUIM6pJKLZleie8pnjXwlhT24QCn_Sa9ne1NE6EWbPgJN71mMFOI4VuIolJk6dtar2nDplOVIPTOe6XIrPoTVC3As5jCqYQ8AJDAWosC0uWYg/w300-h400/IMG_2043.HEIC" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3Qh_XKViGU2JK407dNzeQTAZG5XSjYSBO1mh3nrhK4BmSiUNvGDyf-SmDj5JfZw7KQXi0EBzHA2LexT1GkOWrDjxiACdS7NJF984a-2iZ4D-wYAi319oM8160KeQdP3xqH0gqD2Mj_nLM4CRV5VPwYOd1cTbRZRsjJHTNtlGc5AKhle3qr-ErzhL4w/s4032/IMG_2042.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhv3Qh_XKViGU2JK407dNzeQTAZG5XSjYSBO1mh3nrhK4BmSiUNvGDyf-SmDj5JfZw7KQXi0EBzHA2LexT1GkOWrDjxiACdS7NJF984a-2iZ4D-wYAi319oM8160KeQdP3xqH0gqD2Mj_nLM4CRV5VPwYOd1cTbRZRsjJHTNtlGc5AKhle3qr-ErzhL4w/s320/IMG_2042.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgciBQ4pCGJzZHnOBjosi1tGvHNDXq1waoSxMT18IA8b48Aa-FRixuTPjnp-A-kl7sdCBVUq4LGMXpyTSnAtqFAfHMr-eg05azPXN5ezmwTNlZ_950j625tMkqY5TWbXfUzOVmSZgsOPJCgKti8IPVIBM9O_UVI1QfosAV5iIR2WwR0BEfYtNoyEGJgzg/s3753/IMG_2044.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3753" data-original-width="2902" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgciBQ4pCGJzZHnOBjosi1tGvHNDXq1waoSxMT18IA8b48Aa-FRixuTPjnp-A-kl7sdCBVUq4LGMXpyTSnAtqFAfHMr-eg05azPXN5ezmwTNlZ_950j625tMkqY5TWbXfUzOVmSZgsOPJCgKti8IPVIBM9O_UVI1QfosAV5iIR2WwR0BEfYtNoyEGJgzg/s320/IMG_2044.HEIC" width="247" /></a></div><br /><p>Brecon seems a quaint sort of town. Some pretty buildings like you get in north Essex or Ledbury or something, but with a slight annoying tourist knowingness about it. I'm not in the mood for twee and pretty, so it is a case of head down, and onto something very different from a 'Spoons for a very different type of experience.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPAwnwievqK8pRbcTqKE-CyPbpBiQlIW9jmPR7T8IEgmt9C34AWFRaJ_Rl4gT9BdZW2InvBqa1PJm99PVJAIPLUVtSEXrMJsRY8t9M4h_sdRoSIc8CvIxEky9TVhtkJ4O8XOaAPCNB6F4yyZTetKkhmmlqrvhQMVQ2qsjdoB5onWplJmxM9slfLYUyRQ/s3020/IMG_2045.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2509" data-original-width="3020" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPAwnwievqK8pRbcTqKE-CyPbpBiQlIW9jmPR7T8IEgmt9C34AWFRaJ_Rl4gT9BdZW2InvBqa1PJm99PVJAIPLUVtSEXrMJsRY8t9M4h_sdRoSIc8CvIxEky9TVhtkJ4O8XOaAPCNB6F4yyZTetKkhmmlqrvhQMVQ2qsjdoB5onWplJmxM9slfLYUyRQ/s320/IMG_2045.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I've not even had chance to mentally scream 'micropub!' at <b>Brecon Tap, Brecon (2422 / 3986) </b>before I'm confronted by an elderly couple eating chicken dinners. Plates, knifes and forks, the full shebang, not even out of a cardboard box with plastic cutlery from some fuckwit pop up street food van. Well this all felt rather incongruous, for what let's be honest was a long thin microbar full of board games, odd beers, low slung settees, and the obligatory weird smell. Cheesy sick? It did nothing to enhance my ale, a 'Crazy Peacock' or 'Pewin Ynfytn' if you want to say it properly. I'd been practicing my Welsh pronunciation in the build-up to this holiday, so this was a good time to practice. I asked the barman for some assistance with the second 'y' but he didn't know! Nice chap though. But no, I just couldn't get on with this place. It did manage to survive the 2023 GBG churn, which my other two Brecon's didn't. So my visit was valuable in that respect. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbwujVrqgjCVbYBOac2Jiu8GQLyJssScoGufmMO1i-m97Kh_4ui1DAgJ0qiutF3DJqDLnLIDXHEiwVlsx8FMEEWGk5iVVhnU0FCjRI2n0QrvBJgKSnRmO2YIvQL9Ga-Q6q93LQRPIdBSbv3w8Bhr_xD57V8jvrZv9m106ZrzVyz96Vo4pji-gbD1mbg/s3381/IMG_2046.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3381" data-original-width="2966" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbwujVrqgjCVbYBOac2Jiu8GQLyJssScoGufmMO1i-m97Kh_4ui1DAgJ0qiutF3DJqDLnLIDXHEiwVlsx8FMEEWGk5iVVhnU0FCjRI2n0QrvBJgKSnRmO2YIvQL9Ga-Q6q93LQRPIdBSbv3w8Bhr_xD57V8jvrZv9m106ZrzVyz96Vo4pji-gbD1mbg/s320/IMG_2046.HEIC" width="281" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiULhA9-GrkBSrwJk8bWhmd3zYkmTcDVEW55d2FUXvxlfRr7qkPAqvoQ4XRkxQDmXOgixjahvhjhnEC_nHa3xgSMkgC1Ek7-ue7EUkVQuCMEg33QvL6uBv2VKYetZ9LxebpWFbH-TlIdol5efX1nUYdGKekUbe7rF3Hr6encUw1lzqe2wUgWie33Huhng/s4032/IMG_2047.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiULhA9-GrkBSrwJk8bWhmd3zYkmTcDVEW55d2FUXvxlfRr7qkPAqvoQ4XRkxQDmXOgixjahvhjhnEC_nHa3xgSMkgC1Ek7-ue7EUkVQuCMEg33QvL6uBv2VKYetZ9LxebpWFbH-TlIdol5efX1nUYdGKekUbe7rF3Hr6encUw1lzqe2wUgWie33Huhng/s320/IMG_2047.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZk4JmE-mZYhLa-4f1M9ZdFmNYNLkjL8Y5hsPl9eayrhOOYebibU36T8q6afjRjtAXRI9wVKTGP6ccOa0UXv6ggfLNl8coHR49N6tzZO4FDkakiNI7c1yw6kuvKv-Mz_DObii5yXggvJp-ET6mR6t0IpNCjeimy8tvT4pdei-Ban83B7Y9d-vL_GIH_Q/s4032/IMG_2048.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZk4JmE-mZYhLa-4f1M9ZdFmNYNLkjL8Y5hsPl9eayrhOOYebibU36T8q6afjRjtAXRI9wVKTGP6ccOa0UXv6ggfLNl8coHR49N6tzZO4FDkakiNI7c1yw6kuvKv-Mz_DObii5yXggvJp-ET6mR6t0IpNCjeimy8tvT4pdei-Ban83B7Y9d-vL_GIH_Q/s320/IMG_2048.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGVWDIsA2gzFAixIJ43r68hna-BzX6Y2rMvM5TRiCpXTvmvBnnoUAROwhzXb44uaRjWdQ30Cmtu6ciZhvBshxi9j9VLbzfV2It6D37i29Gb6NjapNN6uQ-59POyUmPym2C0Ju3lpZIjKuxnuMNBZWTRDfyXlWS1RfzoUCnw8HqMCIdxPObB2FUGgqWA/s4032/IMG_2049.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsGVWDIsA2gzFAixIJ43r68hna-BzX6Y2rMvM5TRiCpXTvmvBnnoUAROwhzXb44uaRjWdQ30Cmtu6ciZhvBshxi9j9VLbzfV2It6D37i29Gb6NjapNN6uQ-59POyUmPym2C0Ju3lpZIjKuxnuMNBZWTRDfyXlWS1RfzoUCnw8HqMCIdxPObB2FUGgqWA/w400-h300/IMG_2049.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div>One Brecon pub left to do, and I'll you about that in part 4 along with what happened when I got back to Abergavenny. Hopefully on Sunday. Is Twitter finishing? How worried do I need to be? Do I need to transfer BRAPA operations to thee 'Gram or something? </div><div><br /></div><div>Have a nice night, Si <br /><p><br /></p></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-10357338611850185712022-11-14T21:54:00.002+00:002022-11-14T21:54:33.309+00:00BRAPA is ...... SKARED IN THE SKIRRID (Gwenty is Plenty Pt 2/12) <p>Looking back now, the long walk back from Llangattock Lingoed to the main road and Skirrid Inn was actually not so bad.</p><p>Despite the multitude of aches and pains I don't like to talk about, it was mainly downhill which helped. I could be proud of my epic three pub achievement. And I found it quite fun to try and memorise my way along Offa's Dyke path, passing through each field from memory, trying not to 'cheat' and look at my phone! </p><p>The big question mark that remained was the bus back to Abergavenny. The landlady in Cwmyoy had been so adamant that this 18:57 last bus of the day didn't exist, it made me nervous. Google Maps and Bustimes.org listed it. Why would they lie? I was reassured by a bus timetable stuck to the stop, indicating a bus time of 19:07. Different time, but it suggested a late bus existed.</p><p>Time to try and relax and get myself a pint in this 'Most Haunted' pre/post-emptive ......</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy_OCkiaYgd7RAognj3m3IPip_oaAkffDzVQ7e0WpXH2dOw9pls7Fc4KZRAXifDy9xFK5pMA89g-KCdZYaoH8nKovnDQZRuo8tIhZvdShnPvhwLVvkhrCn4tWnljyAnflzqvEDZdBA82uMQCLuT4yXLuAcpQ1_Vf0vb5BuOXV3C3mJ7E0Tr1zuVcG64A/s3024/IMG_2018.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2754" data-original-width="3024" height="291" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy_OCkiaYgd7RAognj3m3IPip_oaAkffDzVQ7e0WpXH2dOw9pls7Fc4KZRAXifDy9xFK5pMA89g-KCdZYaoH8nKovnDQZRuo8tIhZvdShnPvhwLVvkhrCn4tWnljyAnflzqvEDZdBA82uMQCLuT4yXLuAcpQ1_Vf0vb5BuOXV3C3mJ7E0Tr1zuVcG64A/s320/IMG_2018.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I'd never have believed what an epic experience <b>Skirrid Inn, Llanvihangel Crucorney </b>would become when I first entered. First impressions were ones of disappointment. A dining led pub, obviously ancient, but with so many families and kids with their faces in the trough, any hopes of picking up an 'atmosphere' or getting a glimpse of the ghostly Judge Jim Jeffries (loved him at Falkirk) seemed unlikely. In fact, it reminded me of the Jamaica Inn at Bolventor, though less sprawling, less like a museum. London Pride is the exciting guest ale I hadn't witnessed so far, so I order a pint of that and then do my best 'Columbo' to the barmaid ..... "Oh, and one more thing, does a bus run from here around 7pm?" Her reply isn't exactly satisfactory. "Buses, from here? Cooo, I never notice them, wouldn't have a clue sorry!" Useless. I sit in the smaller right hand room with less food and more locals. Problem is they a foul mouthed overly physical bunch of hyped up weirdos who make my skin crawl. I suspect cocaine may have been snorted off a haunted sink. The eldest one in suit and pink tie comes over to clear empty glasses off my table. "I don't work here, and I find myself doing this!" he grumbles, but no one asked him. A certificate on the wall beside me indicates that the South Gloucestershire Paranormal Society have 'successfully investigated the pub' .... but does that mean they found ghosts or not? My experience becomes more surreal when a sweaty cyclist man comes in and puts a tupperware box on the bench opposite. He sees me peering at it. "Mushrooms, freshly foraged today" he proudly explains, taking the lid off for me to have a look! I return to the bar for a half, but not liking the atmosphere, I take it through the back, past the ghostly figure on the stairs and the 'hanging beam' and sit in the garden. This is pleasant for about ten minutes, until my bladder fills up and an evening chill descends. Right, bus time, cross your fingers, and yer legs ......</p><p><b>Made it into the GBG? </b>No, and I'm not too surprised, though the Pride drank well, and knowing Cwmyoy wasn't gonna make the cut this year, I thought it had an outside chance.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4h-EuDOPUjcU7K3uJpKC5Buey3p09YouB3m3SuMVRSPivDk0k7SpQXCi2wEL4br2z4letCYGGroeox9cDAAWUAnDxXgcERFWJ4Qod-uN0k3OcI-coox-zeiaj04wx_3oBb2eMU5_9myUooWdzqLBsp1BR2oTcArNf0EOY9jmmwkSiRhK2w1s-ATlKVQ/s4032/IMG_2019.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4h-EuDOPUjcU7K3uJpKC5Buey3p09YouB3m3SuMVRSPivDk0k7SpQXCi2wEL4br2z4letCYGGroeox9cDAAWUAnDxXgcERFWJ4Qod-uN0k3OcI-coox-zeiaj04wx_3oBb2eMU5_9myUooWdzqLBsp1BR2oTcArNf0EOY9jmmwkSiRhK2w1s-ATlKVQ/s320/IMG_2019.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcDWkcP6z50jgpZL7AspU38Sq25pISglsfkepCcCMnDeiCB7gGvTNJ7smiHKyOFK3xFeCJ1p3MdVP1V9IJrbczN2m5fSIXqAJYQMHjyZcFoMUAKQ8942PTm7Qd4XRp08OW2-tSz56n_6cSySCnM8E_GPeg3gM4VKuFSqjsun_yOXl4T_WKGnB-z-Iyw/s4032/IMG_2021.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqcDWkcP6z50jgpZL7AspU38Sq25pISglsfkepCcCMnDeiCB7gGvTNJ7smiHKyOFK3xFeCJ1p3MdVP1V9IJrbczN2m5fSIXqAJYQMHjyZcFoMUAKQ8942PTm7Qd4XRp08OW2-tSz56n_6cSySCnM8E_GPeg3gM4VKuFSqjsun_yOXl4T_WKGnB-z-Iyw/s320/IMG_2021.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfyReUORgr5U7PjWy53ZH3cRxN2PrrFmNJfnl2J1e7GJpXz9JTK-PJPw8TSSfopJiGKauWeX-wjqFMelJyRtASJH0TsdqxU4lt3g0-4yH6XrQmumDSYV1BsbJIQyBWinDJRzymaanVFkaLuR2nnhBLbBNF41p7hnRdpXovAT9J1nBa_EjjBprr9vz_XA/s2764/IMG_2024.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2764" data-original-width="2073" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfyReUORgr5U7PjWy53ZH3cRxN2PrrFmNJfnl2J1e7GJpXz9JTK-PJPw8TSSfopJiGKauWeX-wjqFMelJyRtASJH0TsdqxU4lt3g0-4yH6XrQmumDSYV1BsbJIQyBWinDJRzymaanVFkaLuR2nnhBLbBNF41p7hnRdpXovAT9J1nBa_EjjBprr9vz_XA/s320/IMG_2024.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jim Jeffries</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gTdTiqL_pF6aJdS4al6ZIUVrvS_B2GYUNEfo1DGVaiF1O0x9k6r-qyohoR-oE4TBIBa-plDTNVjGRlqiNjfEQI4QXVzKpzGZuzVM0oECe7G9-r48CFXqXYKrZ0hnYGG7X-RwH4yJDSeHeBp8wJOGURhZCQbLkKSe5k5zEtCsoT5Rk0N9hey7HNWcyw/s3024/IMG_2025.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2502" data-original-width="3024" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1gTdTiqL_pF6aJdS4al6ZIUVrvS_B2GYUNEfo1DGVaiF1O0x9k6r-qyohoR-oE4TBIBa-plDTNVjGRlqiNjfEQI4QXVzKpzGZuzVM0oECe7G9-r48CFXqXYKrZ0hnYGG7X-RwH4yJDSeHeBp8wJOGURhZCQbLkKSe5k5zEtCsoT5Rk0N9hey7HNWcyw/s320/IMG_2025.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Freshly foraged</td></tr></tbody></table><br />At the bus stop, I wait. And I wait a bit more. 18:57 and 19:07 come and go, darkness descends. Eventually, a local couple park their car in the bus stop and start unloading a load of stuff from the boot. "Does this mean there's no late bus service?" I ask them, but like the barmaid, they seem bewildered by the concept of a bus (even though they run two hourly through here during the day). Bustimes.org has a live tracker, but no buses on this route. Time to give up the ghost, so to speak.<p></p><p>Back in the pub, time for another drink and try and get a taxi, or spend the night here? That'd be interesting.</p><p>Before I've even got to the bar, one of the white shirted cocaine lads from earlier asks if I'm okay, where I've been, what my predicament is. Phew! Seems quite nice really, for a total chancer. "My mate does unofficial taxi'ing, he'll get you back to Abergavenny no problem, I'll ring him now matey!" he tells me before I can speak. Well he's on the phone, and he tells his mate he's met this desperate guy (i.e. me) who is willing to pay ANYTHING (errrm, no) and then breaks off to tell me £23 and I'm standing there open mouthed working out just how ripped off I'm being, when a couple within earshot look up from their surf n turf, horrified, and tell me they'll take me back for free if I give them half an hour to finish their meal. Result!</p><p>I tell our shirted wide-boy thanks but no thanks, he says no worries mush, and starts quizzing me on BRAPA (and the highly pre-emptive Llanthony Priory bar where he works, which I mentioned in Part One) so I tell him that whilst I'm at the bar buying myself an HPA, I'll get him a drink too. Of course he wants Madri. So I'm just reaching for the GBG to show him what I need to do in Gwent seeing as he seemed fascinated, but when I look up, and he's been distracted by a girl who's just arrived who he obviously fancies, and he's just follows her into the other room, the last words I hear from him are ".... and some random guy has just bought me a pint!" </p><p>Oh well. My HPA goes down well and I try not to stare too intently at our surf n turf heroes in case they leave without me! </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBtCvW_0B0JgueRInGETayNGaGuSGCbdxyXz1oE3VvDIGv-NtHHy-Q5pZ2EdElta4lzL-MbwWel71gEHrqG8HRKATtN652JmxMg9RST09duhOZgPH5U9FaRnqP3zlrCsw4vtdiCyNw60Qb8mkCKAZFUr6FoPm7jX1se95MQizTi3yh-jY0NYL1hVcHg/s3520/IMG_2026.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3520" data-original-width="1980" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHBtCvW_0B0JgueRInGETayNGaGuSGCbdxyXz1oE3VvDIGv-NtHHy-Q5pZ2EdElta4lzL-MbwWel71gEHrqG8HRKATtN652JmxMg9RST09duhOZgPH5U9FaRnqP3zlrCsw4vtdiCyNw60Qb8mkCKAZFUr6FoPm7jX1se95MQizTi3yh-jY0NYL1hVcHg/s320/IMG_2026.JPG" width="180" /></a></div><br /><p>But they keep their promise, and after a weird moment in the Gents with another white shirted crazy man who can't get his zipper to fasten so doesn't want me to hold the door open, we drive off to Abergavenny.</p><p>They reveal they are off to the Bridge Inn at Llanfoist. "Ooh that is on my list too, and next to where I'm staying!" I tell them. "But, you are doing the two in Abergavenny aren't you?" they say, terrified I might try and join them and ruin their 'together time'. </p><p>They drop me at Morrisons, and then I do a massive Tesco shop (it made sense at the time) and head to the first of my two pubs in town ......</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsc22AozYRoMqGiMZW840hll_YMGOEF05r1o7HQRBM1PilsRDOdsJqDOEg_lKdx4q2r4K155-UmDOmLGCJj2GgkVfYpkHAoaNrxP-DWUoCAhcI9S349NGqw_DOT65RMJXatSLPT9F11juHzHkKMpYBjraN1pmV2Kb98loa4s82aZZi35EDzui3439hg/s3502/IMG_2028.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3502" data-original-width="2108" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHsc22AozYRoMqGiMZW840hll_YMGOEF05r1o7HQRBM1PilsRDOdsJqDOEg_lKdx4q2r4K155-UmDOmLGCJj2GgkVfYpkHAoaNrxP-DWUoCAhcI9S349NGqw_DOT65RMJXatSLPT9F11juHzHkKMpYBjraN1pmV2Kb98loa4s82aZZi35EDzui3439hg/s320/IMG_2028.HEIC" width="193" /></a></div><br /><p>It was perhaps my physical and mental state of exhaustion, but the <b>Grofield, Abergavenny (2419 / 3983) </b>passed me by to a large extent. I always feel like I'm blending in with the locals when I'm lugging a large shopping bag around a pub, especially on a busy Saturday evening. The pub was bright, very bright, too bright, that is my abiding memory. Friendly too (quite why the barman found the word 'Glamorgan' so funny, I'll never know), and it had a decent house beer which I was glad about because I was already feeling that HPA and Butty Bach's dominance was a bit overwhelming, even on day one! Welsh mascot Brekkie the Sheep (bought for me by Mummy BRAPA on her trip to Brecon) guards my shopping whilst I find the outdoor loos. A group of yoofs lurking in the courtyard tell their mate he smells of school changing rooms after over spraying the Lynx Africa. AND, I didn't realise this at the time but their is a song called Abergavenny which sadly wasn't played here but I must listen to one day.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUAQ7sM6TOaKEIoMeUDtFpsZvcW3Vrx84ADardpZYmXDhM6KNQEnx-bg-orAwrrKojPl6cYNXsjzgxfXW-yKs49IAzvZgZU7KjNyLRp_yXx6DkSbt1CRvEqFrHstuSykd1RXyPNETtLr7RYb0idxS_s-P_CCs9zPuYDxElyqZN8PmJFiyJAHTfBWsrg/s4032/IMG_2030.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBUAQ7sM6TOaKEIoMeUDtFpsZvcW3Vrx84ADardpZYmXDhM6KNQEnx-bg-orAwrrKojPl6cYNXsjzgxfXW-yKs49IAzvZgZU7KjNyLRp_yXx6DkSbt1CRvEqFrHstuSykd1RXyPNETtLr7RYb0idxS_s-P_CCs9zPuYDxElyqZN8PmJFiyJAHTfBWsrg/s320/IMG_2030.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKLq4CU9FfP_1tQvAScw1I45OfPFmD4I1v5gTOo8iAYt57HyGpL2GU7L6oMmr3O3GiN_PqftdLEgs4kZE73dfOmxVIW15xNzJActUw24Y6saVxAKO8yW7sbcv1jwLBTjCBODoa5_46iz4ngzAWvJPsIrPuERbFDvz05f4EkxcKdEF1RvDJUdbueyvi_g/s4032/IMG_2031.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKLq4CU9FfP_1tQvAScw1I45OfPFmD4I1v5gTOo8iAYt57HyGpL2GU7L6oMmr3O3GiN_PqftdLEgs4kZE73dfOmxVIW15xNzJActUw24Y6saVxAKO8yW7sbcv1jwLBTjCBODoa5_46iz4ngzAWvJPsIrPuERbFDvz05f4EkxcKdEF1RvDJUdbueyvi_g/s320/IMG_2031.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5N1yJVfjZSnGL2-Rkih4fc2o1aaGQeKh73Fr2Lmjo8OEmG_hqmSPx_H6NyHx3naHNaJhHbDnrXIa-pd0Gc9AuKwZsnmXw5pgKs9d9yLic0uKQQyClwjkWjDTyGUKsDbY6lvnwNClzMETD4R3jhPtxGNSlF1YlcQ0r17fHJJW4oONdhG9KIYceWuh6HA/s4032/IMG_2029.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5N1yJVfjZSnGL2-Rkih4fc2o1aaGQeKh73Fr2Lmjo8OEmG_hqmSPx_H6NyHx3naHNaJhHbDnrXIa-pd0Gc9AuKwZsnmXw5pgKs9d9yLic0uKQQyClwjkWjDTyGUKsDbY6lvnwNClzMETD4R3jhPtxGNSlF1YlcQ0r17fHJJW4oONdhG9KIYceWuh6HA/s320/IMG_2029.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Well, due to that epic Skirrid Inn experience, I'll leave it here for now, and tell you about four pubs in part three in two days time! Hope that makes sense.</p><p>Good night, Si </p><p><br /></p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-46021639134151852822022-11-13T20:50:00.000+00:002022-11-13T20:50:22.204+00:00BRAPA in ..... THE LLONGEST WALK : LLANTHONY TO LLANGATTOCK LINGOED (Gwenty Is Plenty Pt 1/12)<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPveqVoQEruN663NyRpuermuaZN5Vpns0FtOlMkoSCaVlyLODREx2N9Yplgo107iTKeAT3AtVY_gRDDhD0mT1XMwg-2HLVb-squ4FSJzZD4eq61p0XtBYdBfcSL3uTWmZdEEPpc8OpYryQbefgJkAzPrcFqNH9eIEgvrTjVk2PSAgvTt_iQfeYcNEboQ/s804/IMG_2290.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="804" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPveqVoQEruN663NyRpuermuaZN5Vpns0FtOlMkoSCaVlyLODREx2N9Yplgo107iTKeAT3AtVY_gRDDhD0mT1XMwg-2HLVb-squ4FSJzZD4eq61p0XtBYdBfcSL3uTWmZdEEPpc8OpYryQbefgJkAzPrcFqNH9eIEgvrTjVk2PSAgvTt_iQfeYcNEboQ/s320/IMG_2290.PNG" width="299" /></a></div>Ouch! I was barely able to move by the end of my first day in Gwent (or through much of my second day), and I ended up dreaming I needed a double hip replacement operation, though it was to be performed by Martell Maxwell so there is that. <div><br /></div><div>I cannot recall walking further than 28K steps on any previous trips. I doubt I'll break this record, and I don't even want to. <p></p><p>Train strikes once more scuppered the first day of a BRAPA holiday. Due for a leisurely trip down on the morning of Saturday 1st October, I suddenly had to rush out of work at 4pm on Friday 30th September, leg it to York station, and hop aboard a Manchester bound train, changing for Abergavenny.</p><p>By Shropshire, it was time to crack open my train beer, a powerful little number I'd picked up in Hesket Newmarket a few weeks back, perfect with a couple of Bourbons . 20p a pack from Sainsbury's, but for how much longer? Okay, so a few crumbs got into the margin somewhere near Church Stretton, but my '22 GBG was beyond repair by now anyway.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEY3V-YuSu51PeQcDAQh-JwmL2FUNmhAVUkegKSVjyLiu2KCyltXPgo95g8_fMpSLS_9BFhDushbz6ugYuugrHRHsxp4ZS2fxcR8RGUHLmkaTVbhN9CFe-3m3PFIYWZuUn-1Anz6gL7N9Om1We0_stqdESjF4vCpskM1mYhCE-A0wwlBp-2dPX0JbR7A/s3198/IMG_1984.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3198" data-original-width="2647" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEY3V-YuSu51PeQcDAQh-JwmL2FUNmhAVUkegKSVjyLiu2KCyltXPgo95g8_fMpSLS_9BFhDushbz6ugYuugrHRHsxp4ZS2fxcR8RGUHLmkaTVbhN9CFe-3m3PFIYWZuUn-1Anz6gL7N9Om1We0_stqdESjF4vCpskM1mYhCE-A0wwlBp-2dPX0JbR7A/s320/IMG_1984.HEIC" width="265" /></a></div><br /><p>So why Gwent? Well, each year I like to tackle a 'county' where I've previously had zero ticks. I'd left it late this year, but after Mummy and Daddy BRAPA had enjoyed a fabulous week in Blaenavon in the summer, I took it as a sign and booked myself a week of intense ticking, knowing the 2023 GBG was only 2-3 weeks away.</p><p>My walking woes actually began as soon as I stepped off the train. The Premier Inn wasn't in Abergavenny itself, but actually Llanfoist, just south of town. 'But you must've know that before you set out Si?' I hear you say, and I did, but I somehow thought I'd be able to take a short cut around the bypass.</p><p>But it was unwalkable, so it needed a 30 minute trek, in the pitch black, across Castle Meadows, alongside the River Usk, was terrifying. I was a stressed, sweaty mess when I arrived at nearly 10pm, but the receptionist and two ladies checking in behind me were very sympathetic. </p><p>After a shower and a late tea, I felt human again and fell asleep the second my head hit the pillow!</p><p><b><u>Saturday 1st October</u></b></p><p>With not one single train running out of Abergavenny, today needed to be a bus day. So why not do the 'hard trio to the north' whilst I was still relatively fresh? That way, I was setting down a marker - and that marker said 'Gwent ya bugger, I'm coming for ya!' </p><p>After a quick instant coffee from the pathetic kettle and an damp flapjack, I hopped on the early bus north in a Herefordly direction, hopping off at Llanvihangel Crucorney, but I asked for the 'Skirrid Inn' because (a) I could pronounce it and (b) I remembered it from 'Most Haunted' back in the Derek Acorah golden age. I'd hope to pop in later today, but for now, I had 3 GBG ticks to tackle.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHBelqd7jJT3rARiGCSHDliVQG9E0tXT_KUQRrgEBNkY-cZ7blWV1-6ws9dv69WBj4i43HwA_C3kkmJJ4q-ffeuR7bgvHa-LdvVqfG8L7ehXBk3f6zRdGWwSNcvNh1p1ieRujxj2ZRmdLsvgt1kiPky1vWCuh-_Uxu5GTwbCvbvO8Xl2B2BQuUEX4Cw/s4032/IMG_1986.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmHBelqd7jJT3rARiGCSHDliVQG9E0tXT_KUQRrgEBNkY-cZ7blWV1-6ws9dv69WBj4i43HwA_C3kkmJJ4q-ffeuR7bgvHa-LdvVqfG8L7ehXBk3f6zRdGWwSNcvNh1p1ieRujxj2ZRmdLsvgt1kiPky1vWCuh-_Uxu5GTwbCvbvO8Xl2B2BQuUEX4Cw/s320/IMG_1986.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1z-7Kzk21IX7LV-fofXoYLALnp7p_ooB5GKm3ufS0GB2bXHEksm7nkI-32_bhHCep6XSLce_EiVq7vSVuGE5QsakPJ0CcJ24pL2UDkAv6YQ6hsp62wm6NdZ1rrQVhC5OQasWTOF5t1UzdZC55ih6HM6_TnAaNLS3gobfCTwUrtL_6rMnqS9ct-FS-tg/s4032/IMG_1988.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1z-7Kzk21IX7LV-fofXoYLALnp7p_ooB5GKm3ufS0GB2bXHEksm7nkI-32_bhHCep6XSLce_EiVq7vSVuGE5QsakPJ0CcJ24pL2UDkAv6YQ6hsp62wm6NdZ1rrQVhC5OQasWTOF5t1UzdZC55ih6HM6_TnAaNLS3gobfCTwUrtL_6rMnqS9ct-FS-tg/s320/IMG_1988.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Llanthony was the furthest tick, a six mile walk, so I set off and was a little bit annoyed to see a few more cars on these narrow lanes than I'd anticipated. Never dangerous, but with six miles in front of me, I didn't want to be stopping and waving every two seconds. I guess they were all off to read books in Hay on Wye or sit on the top of Lord Hereford's knob. </p><p>The scenery became increasingly breathtaking, my phone signal disappeared, the air seemed fresher and silence descended as I stretch away from the main road. It was glorious weather, for that I was grateful. </p><p>About three miles in, I swung a right and extended by walk further by descending into the village of Cwmyoy and seeking out the Church of St Martin, which I'd read was the most crooked church in the UK due to a landslide, like that pub near Dudley I've never been to. </p><p>Besides, it was time for a breakfast stop so after a quick explore, I sat on a churchyard bench and took in the scenery and listened to mooing cows whilst nibbling on a few snacks.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ZnNgfV0N3wS9IzI0qU5guMjTOhwFzHTGVYPOesnJIiGw4Zj4RBeLVqYWPGN6inv7nJlNBHKvByQsXEBNJ1VZ5YdqHM55AUUmHZI8q-V7Cxldmbtz37CU2SunaayRTH_seYZIs990GLKi1tF1PWEfEITs_Y1jbz7PhFORw3BhNTd4thletSLqHQkjfw/s4032/IMG_1989.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ZnNgfV0N3wS9IzI0qU5guMjTOhwFzHTGVYPOesnJIiGw4Zj4RBeLVqYWPGN6inv7nJlNBHKvByQsXEBNJ1VZ5YdqHM55AUUmHZI8q-V7Cxldmbtz37CU2SunaayRTH_seYZIs990GLKi1tF1PWEfEITs_Y1jbz7PhFORw3BhNTd4thletSLqHQkjfw/s320/IMG_1989.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwWYRRONwlYqa41GxCq0kFe024ZHWL6LCjIF-uvmd5zHHjc_eLHuISXK2WYkwzySZ7xLovbLSyPA6gzTEf0Z8T4LWwQWbt_lDqQwEIVVFE_VNLWVAAIvL0XhmIpolas2u5a-qrcTLGOASACnnx-0GP6O7BMU5X_EyaJDLzJiP7JBLd8yP1YcHiIrbndA/s4032/IMG_1991.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwWYRRONwlYqa41GxCq0kFe024ZHWL6LCjIF-uvmd5zHHjc_eLHuISXK2WYkwzySZ7xLovbLSyPA6gzTEf0Z8T4LWwQWbt_lDqQwEIVVFE_VNLWVAAIvL0XhmIpolas2u5a-qrcTLGOASACnnx-0GP6O7BMU5X_EyaJDLzJiP7JBLd8yP1YcHiIrbndA/s320/IMG_1991.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpw8s74MV2ve48ppBBaavEyfGT83hgoo8NmoGZb1C7dMWmyVWGNSA0sKsh38wxacLfVibqlb7DCPChRfP0ukiO7OEZaTOFhdoCq3O6khHMnAU34gBefWotNCa6W_FX8v4xWml28WUZ6IuIGCP62ApRdq797U3dYfQqNqUU61guku45SWj0kkkdrMWE9g/s4032/IMG_1992.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpw8s74MV2ve48ppBBaavEyfGT83hgoo8NmoGZb1C7dMWmyVWGNSA0sKsh38wxacLfVibqlb7DCPChRfP0ukiO7OEZaTOFhdoCq3O6khHMnAU34gBefWotNCa6W_FX8v4xWml28WUZ6IuIGCP62ApRdq797U3dYfQqNqUU61guku45SWj0kkkdrMWE9g/s320/IMG_1992.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqbxHgouTO49oEKDH-2vShu_IEZXvWtgxnaUlZpHuUcX8em4brFWJMhiMEWLhnnqF-mXCeu-_XnlDR_oRA2YP6AspHAFAzhJekA06_QgAhzJON5kTkM5r5AyUGudMVFfSiT8INZsIXxE-d3N5EkKfzqNpQxHovAoP5h4OI_YJSBYRz4VGd4TkXdpGIA/s4032/IMG_1993.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYqbxHgouTO49oEKDH-2vShu_IEZXvWtgxnaUlZpHuUcX8em4brFWJMhiMEWLhnnqF-mXCeu-_XnlDR_oRA2YP6AspHAFAzhJekA06_QgAhzJON5kTkM5r5AyUGudMVFfSiT8INZsIXxE-d3N5EkKfzqNpQxHovAoP5h4OI_YJSBYRz4VGd4TkXdpGIA/s320/IMG_1993.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWnZpyI7T42-G1mvDkRy4YyuDMXmge53Q4gZkVdufFH0pnBIfQ3EDVpasAPSdQu9yqs4rsXp5iOQXbub8DZb8L0YilUGS5eVAstMYI0XjXyw_ZHN2fduKXvsLSM7LNhNthWg2BstbhRFl5opY_f5IeK_8BznUIjzAhHFz8J1htRBPwI52s4uTL85V1A/s4032/IMG_1994.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaWnZpyI7T42-G1mvDkRy4YyuDMXmge53Q4gZkVdufFH0pnBIfQ3EDVpasAPSdQu9yqs4rsXp5iOQXbub8DZb8L0YilUGS5eVAstMYI0XjXyw_ZHN2fduKXvsLSM7LNhNthWg2BstbhRFl5opY_f5IeK_8BznUIjzAhHFz8J1htRBPwI52s4uTL85V1A/s320/IMG_1994.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8rDbCOG19bkijj9RrsFYDucZ6VnOHZCL5d6C0OIIDqom9EWYmM7BuASw7Bhnq7ox1m1VBqGha-PN6nXsdFYjwkw4ueVgPTztrnrPr-5HuEcyI-20oZxZzOjBw2KfZPLk8s-mOgqSiYJzRpMKc7R6WU6E5G0V6C7W0Vv5n-OyrVm3Cnt-0sd-NwPRUw/s4032/IMG_1990.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-8rDbCOG19bkijj9RrsFYDucZ6VnOHZCL5d6C0OIIDqom9EWYmM7BuASw7Bhnq7ox1m1VBqGha-PN6nXsdFYjwkw4ueVgPTztrnrPr-5HuEcyI-20oZxZzOjBw2KfZPLk8s-mOgqSiYJzRpMKc7R6WU6E5G0V6C7W0Vv5n-OyrVm3Cnt-0sd-NwPRUw/s320/IMG_1990.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>I wanted to be knocking on the pub door for noon opening, so thought I'd best not dally, so when two ladies appeared at the church door, I thought "ugh, not actual human beings!" and took that as my cue to leave. </p><p>There were times when it felt like Llanthony wasn't getting closer, perhaps it didn't exist and is a GBG ploy set to see how gullible pub tickers are. So it was with much relief when a sign for the village finally came into view. A trio of hippie ladies who smelt of burning incense sticks appeared from the road to the Priory, said 'hello', again I thought 'ugh, more humans, shoo!' and I scurried off like the hermit I was rapidly becoming.</p><p>And then, I see the pub on the horizon, hurrah!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPzYaLPTCFpblLl6wnrdZnlBRfpe0qqcoFhEKvKtILBeNi65wkvE0iFUj7erQAJdRGFfGMJNTf6YFIlGlIQ_2tHDCN8SsXHnNHOI3AxiUnay0m0S7kXcTzPIpUECVsM8DLAbu8BHCoNFkAtSKv6mDyMff6Ti9wuG196Sfkopr6Meaw9DWYXJFSK7oGg/s3121/IMG_1995.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3121" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEPzYaLPTCFpblLl6wnrdZnlBRfpe0qqcoFhEKvKtILBeNi65wkvE0iFUj7erQAJdRGFfGMJNTf6YFIlGlIQ_2tHDCN8SsXHnNHOI3AxiUnay0m0S7kXcTzPIpUECVsM8DLAbu8BHCoNFkAtSKv6mDyMff6Ti9wuG196Sfkopr6Meaw9DWYXJFSK7oGg/s320/IMG_1995.HEIC" width="310" /></a></div><p>'Please open on time!' I'm secretly willing, as those familiar feelings of paranoia resurface like they always do pre-difficult pub tick. So I take the black cat crossing the road outside the pub as a lucky omen. </p><p>And what an affectionate cutie, with a weird zip collar thing - which must be her rucksack containing a dead mouse, a pawful of dreamies and a bit of catnip. It is 11:50am, so we sit together on a bench in the sun.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQf8EcIF3F4npZd1x8Li-joYO_P7UZngo-O2Py1V8NxU7Rd6CSEIAbJgUaNkXPCypEH2vCAHz4c9cmKk3JGum8ETFW2cgfB3KMSR1dOI4MtkI8fmPbYpBhDg9OoPZpTjq9rrmF7boDYGSqv9XYY3iupspoh4Ae321atHdwsm9OJweYqSqA7wNsMVTgzg/s3279/IMG_1996.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3279" data-original-width="3023" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQf8EcIF3F4npZd1x8Li-joYO_P7UZngo-O2Py1V8NxU7Rd6CSEIAbJgUaNkXPCypEH2vCAHz4c9cmKk3JGum8ETFW2cgfB3KMSR1dOI4MtkI8fmPbYpBhDg9OoPZpTjq9rrmF7boDYGSqv9XYY3iupspoh4Ae321atHdwsm9OJweYqSqA7wNsMVTgzg/s320/IMG_1996.HEIC" width="295" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsXsl4L2k5C3f_-PWXEKMm7_Iug6Uqhcgt7rvC-aJPlwUDLeMVnMmOGntB69CKC25yy1dtDFqqgmE-HecJZbv87uAhQwuAGFd-jbaVC57QpbLZQAY1JpKcYRzrw2ekER5NfeKHbjnOX0LLMgKXFnbYfCcbsJqFKBk-ueBInrhHhvA0OPl_jeL5KdwY7A/s3009/IMG_1998.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2657" data-original-width="3009" height="283" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsXsl4L2k5C3f_-PWXEKMm7_Iug6Uqhcgt7rvC-aJPlwUDLeMVnMmOGntB69CKC25yy1dtDFqqgmE-HecJZbv87uAhQwuAGFd-jbaVC57QpbLZQAY1JpKcYRzrw2ekER5NfeKHbjnOX0LLMgKXFnbYfCcbsJqFKBk-ueBInrhHhvA0OPl_jeL5KdwY7A/s320/IMG_1998.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_N-XeHk4EuqydqdIKyy5eaeME572ca6tYAZ1L48TmbNK7yCmeQIbUlYdtX48gQcstZQwGF9e5sqHqyZwyXYUS4K1cRNX9S9WeArLW0YmFWsxDc6vnL_-XJ5IIpf8k1Qp40_tyw0ZMnvuHvPXFfFPwomyLFz2MkV9tg8mqQO54aUIhxZySyvEUMO-PuA/s3473/IMG_2002.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3473" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_N-XeHk4EuqydqdIKyy5eaeME572ca6tYAZ1L48TmbNK7yCmeQIbUlYdtX48gQcstZQwGF9e5sqHqyZwyXYUS4K1cRNX9S9WeArLW0YmFWsxDc6vnL_-XJ5IIpf8k1Qp40_tyw0ZMnvuHvPXFfFPwomyLFz2MkV9tg8mqQO54aUIhxZySyvEUMO-PuA/s320/IMG_2002.HEIC" width="279" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtegWbQUK_p419d7l-F4_0w1PxawEutkhFAbRxd5FtwtTLPyCv8Ox7jtA98EV_zq8jc2AXnzlUDUWl0_Js344JyMSH8g19NxTD13zX_dbP23FG2MeLoV3gieKbtFXzQsx32cbrszD6Cs8g2sAtxSeICPiwtiO_UPULq0lfSKw6WlPFD7zguGJWGUD1w/s4032/IMG_1997.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBtegWbQUK_p419d7l-F4_0w1PxawEutkhFAbRxd5FtwtTLPyCv8Ox7jtA98EV_zq8jc2AXnzlUDUWl0_Js344JyMSH8g19NxTD13zX_dbP23FG2MeLoV3gieKbtFXzQsx32cbrszD6Cs8g2sAtxSeICPiwtiO_UPULq0lfSKw6WlPFD7zguGJWGUD1w/s320/IMG_1997.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>11:55am, I'm relieved to see the landlady unlock the door and bring a couple of blackboards out to the front of the pub. One makes it sound as though a visit to this pub is akin to a prostate exam. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitsnhCREI3ibTN2b11XwdjL9B_zbBlew814fBPsZ9JlMRJghojl95eBHfcHKCWIuZxeGYja6PuqjmUXgEuy6Z-iyL2k-pLk_32P5ZAd47mSTqXmTN0tozucCbvrisRWAXOPc-u0-8EXJKBuNF9DCuR5lv2DoZ_cFk8xTsH-Y6GLKPJqGwLnJFBi7Kfdw/s4032/IMG_2003.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitsnhCREI3ibTN2b11XwdjL9B_zbBlew814fBPsZ9JlMRJghojl95eBHfcHKCWIuZxeGYja6PuqjmUXgEuy6Z-iyL2k-pLk_32P5ZAd47mSTqXmTN0tozucCbvrisRWAXOPc-u0-8EXJKBuNF9DCuR5lv2DoZ_cFk8xTsH-Y6GLKPJqGwLnJFBi7Kfdw/s320/IMG_2003.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>She isn't exactly the sunniest character, considering what a beautiful peaceful pub she runs, but I do manage to ascertain that our feline friend is called Senna, though whether it is a reference to Ayrton or some other spelling, I'm not sure. She hates her collar, but it is to stop her biting the fur off her back.</p><p>I wait reverentially for the clock to tick around to exactly 12 noon before wandering in, I do not want to upset the applecart at this stage! <b>Half Moon, Llanthony (2416 / 3980) </b>is as you might expect, a bare-boarded farmhouse style boozer, with a few modern concessions for the tourist crowd - leaflets, choccy bars, a bit of simple scran, I liked it. I opt for Butty Bach by Wye Valley, too sweet tasting for me, a bit like Doom Bar in that respect, but that is probably sacrilege to say in these parts. As I'd discover as my week went on, it is often THE beer that the locals go for. It is also the first of MANY sightings of the same Wye Valley glass I see in nearly every pub. I've barely settled and done the triumphant green highlighting, when a waft of incense breezes through, the door bell tinkles. It is the three hippie ladies! "We meet again" one calls over to me. I grunt in what I hope is a semi-polite way. Their order tests the patience of our grumpy landlady to the limit. Beer, crisps, toasties, cider, a Wifi code .... these three want it all! One hastily tags a coffee on the end of the order. "Oh, and a Crunchie!" she adds even later. "We don't do Crunchies!" snarls our hostess with satisfaction. "Oh, I saw the glimmer of yellow and thought you did, it is a Cadbury's Flake isn't it? I'll have one of them". One nearly steps on Senna's more elusive brother, Whisky. And just when you think they are done, one nips out to their car and returns with a Lemsip sachet. "Could you boil a kettle for this?" she asks. "No, I can do you hot water but not boiling!" says the landlady. Awkward silence. I both want to laugh and disappear. The landlord finally appears and chats to me, he is more jovial. Southern too. Turns out they are from Kent. I'd later be told he isn't allowed behind the bar because he likes beer a little too much. He reveals how the local CAMRA bloke came in to decide the 2023 GBG pubs, grumbling he was driving so couldn't drink much. "You're in next year!" he tells the landlord. "Don't you need to try our beer first?" asks landlord. "Nahhh, we know you keep your beer well!" is the reply. Scientific. Well, if this was a sign of the Gwent to come, I was going to have quite an eventful holiday.</p><p><b>Still in GBG '23? </b>Yes, and with some relief as I would be told Llanthony has a better GBG candidate!</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24mhf3mpLV00vD2Xx4h0Lp1j3E5yVbS1MiRihz1XmZzDXLD_auqWams8Ut8lIwbafAcalw9briYC9LNFjGPqX24vjnAF0O6mdk6BgU7ntFxz0OteRsmEZ3_PyQCl-kE2bzCprm9x6OXP_U817Kqg0TzdXWo14TCCZRIxDbWZd2CHxtTo8Gb4XryntjQ/s3402/IMG_2004.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3402" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24mhf3mpLV00vD2Xx4h0Lp1j3E5yVbS1MiRihz1XmZzDXLD_auqWams8Ut8lIwbafAcalw9briYC9LNFjGPqX24vjnAF0O6mdk6BgU7ntFxz0OteRsmEZ3_PyQCl-kE2bzCprm9x6OXP_U817Kqg0TzdXWo14TCCZRIxDbWZd2CHxtTo8Gb4XryntjQ/s320/IMG_2004.HEIC" width="284" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifav3F0h_mI49H9XRU8Iqnm3VeKoEt5nZcDztA_GNCaAvO6m5kSjvr2bf4AFSVIFlWvUwRgU0NAVwZ8ZyN_B9EzLn5wsvZ_ihzOOvWuSGbrWhW_A5vZIJkYOpkTG1vqAFWWNO0HkiktZ79VTKAPB6W6gL_P9VkPxIlYDcNsr_QQr3M_vd7cefB8gMLNw/s4032/IMG_2005.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifav3F0h_mI49H9XRU8Iqnm3VeKoEt5nZcDztA_GNCaAvO6m5kSjvr2bf4AFSVIFlWvUwRgU0NAVwZ8ZyN_B9EzLn5wsvZ_ihzOOvWuSGbrWhW_A5vZIJkYOpkTG1vqAFWWNO0HkiktZ79VTKAPB6W6gL_P9VkPxIlYDcNsr_QQr3M_vd7cefB8gMLNw/s320/IMG_2005.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqt0bNxuEhqHEwPMCPmjRreValAhzmNuaD3kNxkNBI5avkmJy6Ukg2c4go5p2UQjCqk4iJOcVOZ3PJr8ykRVlWOLptpIUns5tcbYUbCdZ0rDyKldQkHNc4Fg7kMDKx_3KK4f1LIPu6j0Z-2B8IV1eCQEkrJWbg3B2E_ln33HLpDhWdpWZonyl1GSTOqA/s4032/IMG_2006.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqt0bNxuEhqHEwPMCPmjRreValAhzmNuaD3kNxkNBI5avkmJy6Ukg2c4go5p2UQjCqk4iJOcVOZ3PJr8ykRVlWOLptpIUns5tcbYUbCdZ0rDyKldQkHNc4Fg7kMDKx_3KK4f1LIPu6j0Z-2B8IV1eCQEkrJWbg3B2E_ln33HLpDhWdpWZonyl1GSTOqA/s320/IMG_2006.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />It was an arduous walk to pub two, which I'd passed much earlier on. Despite being listed under Cwmyoy, where our crooked church was, it was actually closer to the main road and the Skirrid Inn, so a good 5 miles approx from Llanthony.<div><p></p><p>I pass a funeral procession on the main road, and all I could think was 'don't you dare book the pub out for a wake!' Altarnun still haunts me to this day. Thankfully, I didn't have to worry.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUNMM-9H9chBJbM1qxvaTzNdUYPVeKzbDTVPO736MjbuZlADT_g6yl1VO2Xz2GjdWLDJZFFFQ81b2oxlwSC0ZOZ8NGTGN-3SuK5mMboVuWlBzehD1COdMec8-lgs3yubwKq0rBdI4Ke6hnMB8ZVQpSbka9nCNQ4-V1CzSri5tRRi32akQTJbdAN4Xxg/s4032/IMG_2007.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYUNMM-9H9chBJbM1qxvaTzNdUYPVeKzbDTVPO736MjbuZlADT_g6yl1VO2Xz2GjdWLDJZFFFQ81b2oxlwSC0ZOZ8NGTGN-3SuK5mMboVuWlBzehD1COdMec8-lgs3yubwKq0rBdI4Ke6hnMB8ZVQpSbka9nCNQ4-V1CzSri5tRRi32akQTJbdAN4Xxg/s320/IMG_2007.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGkLwRwGlbR6P7Thx0Ee3orcFw7wCtdN_nWni9uAIeaFKW0ADYoaEb1PUJbRdki3zo31U_RUApS-f2ZZRln5o7UjXtuVJdbQIv208Lblv1_61N2BRTF5I3qL9jDGwlShyjz8qKDFTJyDnktUASvauV0v9lieTpK7z1v9HPcaTXjm5ZxJrXyw_HPMD8A/s4032/IMG_1987.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfGkLwRwGlbR6P7Thx0Ee3orcFw7wCtdN_nWni9uAIeaFKW0ADYoaEb1PUJbRdki3zo31U_RUApS-f2ZZRln5o7UjXtuVJdbQIv208Lblv1_61N2BRTF5I3qL9jDGwlShyjz8qKDFTJyDnktUASvauV0v9lieTpK7z1v9HPcaTXjm5ZxJrXyw_HPMD8A/s320/IMG_1987.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>An early contender for pub of the week, <b>Queen's Head, Cwmyoy (2417 / 3981) </b>was a bona fide gem, so old fashioned and basic that it made our last pub look positively gastro. I'm greeted warmly by the landlady and the one customer, some local bloke. Both seem surprised to see me, whereas in Llanthony, tourists just make them yawn. Pretty much everything our hostess says / predicts turns out to be true. She is shocked the Llanthony's Priory bar doesn't get in the GBG ahead of the Half Moon and says I missed a trick not going, pulls out a newspaper feature on said bar, which hosted the UK's first ever beer festival in the late 50's/early 60's apparently. Both exchange glances which say 'he must be mad' when I tell them of my intention to walk to Llangattock Lingoed next. 'That'll be worse than your Llanthony walk!' she tells me. I doubted it, but she wasn't wrong. Also accurate was her claims of no evening bus service from the Skirrid Inn, despite Google Maps and Bustimes.org both saying there was one. And she also KNEW they'd not make the '23 GBG. The long serving landlord died earlier this year after 40 years service, I think, and despite her telling me she's run the cellar/beer side of things for ages, CAMRA are funny when it comes to official changes in ownership. Only one ale was on, Kingstone Classic. She tells me back in the day, it was Ruddles. They'd drive over to Rutland to pick it up and bring it back. And before that, it was Bass. "Oooh I love a Bass" I tell her. "Problem is, all our Bass drinking regulars are now dead" she replies with brutal and slightly comical matter-of-factness. The loos are outside, back onto the main road, hairpin bend, then back in through what looks like a stable door, one of the hardest to find pub toilets I've witnessed all year! A great pub.</p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>No, but merely a technicality.</p><p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09oBd9ziv5Eb0h4JMUmTdLhLTAtK082yWciHgqhg5I7y5YXoZT9I3QgkH5y83Po29l1HErxEn4sjYpQXOIxq21tq7q9dLsusyY7Z7qng8G-R0KNdo_cLf8_DiptFDIMDvky3U-DA4lfGI356Z3SkkMy60C0ziN5DhiAExCr5yL2GZnuvzQpQLp2F9Gg/s4032/IMG_2011.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj09oBd9ziv5Eb0h4JMUmTdLhLTAtK082yWciHgqhg5I7y5YXoZT9I3QgkH5y83Po29l1HErxEn4sjYpQXOIxq21tq7q9dLsusyY7Z7qng8G-R0KNdo_cLf8_DiptFDIMDvky3U-DA4lfGI356Z3SkkMy60C0ziN5DhiAExCr5yL2GZnuvzQpQLp2F9Gg/s320/IMG_2011.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmAJXTbyYnnnc8ivDITpiLBOEZsE9M5utQmS_464XpiXBoJNQXtC7kojHPuctb3OsTmVBZATPBt-ikJzk7fpBnJgpiG0LKLVGKIAxeLqeBZ4cLIOz89JLjBrWe0bKVi9JZD94S3X8jPKz34x2XR5XnzdIWYAG6SZ4HRF2hNzVojRoCkb5VZiCnEMVNQ/s4032/IMG_2010.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVmAJXTbyYnnnc8ivDITpiLBOEZsE9M5utQmS_464XpiXBoJNQXtC7kojHPuctb3OsTmVBZATPBt-ikJzk7fpBnJgpiG0LKLVGKIAxeLqeBZ4cLIOz89JLjBrWe0bKVi9JZD94S3X8jPKz34x2XR5XnzdIWYAG6SZ4HRF2hNzVojRoCkb5VZiCnEMVNQ/s320/IMG_2010.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggmKo4RcI6fDrQ6_N12LB5ydE9-BpS77Bj1nAA_PZqRZ9jxB31_oKqhm9bYDXl50Z9g-6bBhfJ5zf0NSQcScj8KmNVLevI-vwBw25ZPortsvLMO_O0oPf1_cpHs-fZ5V7VR54IQNwrVFaKjuEPOc7Izb6GCHOcaQrT5vIhTBsyLviBlN243vfji0NZvQ/s4032/IMG_2009.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggmKo4RcI6fDrQ6_N12LB5ydE9-BpS77Bj1nAA_PZqRZ9jxB31_oKqhm9bYDXl50Z9g-6bBhfJ5zf0NSQcScj8KmNVLevI-vwBw25ZPortsvLMO_O0oPf1_cpHs-fZ5V7VR54IQNwrVFaKjuEPOc7Izb6GCHOcaQrT5vIhTBsyLviBlN243vfji0NZvQ/s320/IMG_2009.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizvC2Ok_6UBY4hP5gljVBIrcA2Vj9haCCJUPzRUCxmreXajSOrVIbQmuHqYW2y9hI-RuNtqUXJLWvCobti-ls2-25R5hXoA-XGD_2PyvvNLUh6piztJ5io3Ekl5aqNWdhQhmK20fbgT3-mXsas0dBObTdTWqxdpn3eg_yxLwzytalYlEYH1xN_tl5PGw/s4032/IMG_2008.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizvC2Ok_6UBY4hP5gljVBIrcA2Vj9haCCJUPzRUCxmreXajSOrVIbQmuHqYW2y9hI-RuNtqUXJLWvCobti-ls2-25R5hXoA-XGD_2PyvvNLUh6piztJ5io3Ekl5aqNWdhQhmK20fbgT3-mXsas0dBObTdTWqxdpn3eg_yxLwzytalYlEYH1xN_tl5PGw/s320/IMG_2008.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>If I was knackered from the 12 miles plus out to Llanthony and back, it was about to reach crazy strenuous levels.</p><p>I walk the mile back to the main road, walk north from the Skirrid Inn / bus stop , cross the A465 and before long, turn right. I stop on a grass verge for a sandwich and a drink, and I'm startled by a local tractor driver turning down the same lane, so I slide down into a pile of thistles at the bottom, onto my bottom. Prickly. Tractor driver stops, asks if I am okay and drives off before I get chance to ask if he's heading towards my next pub. </p><p>This first bit of the walk is uphill too, I didn't realise how uphill until I was coming back down it later, my mind had sort of switched off to pain by now as roads are replaced by a section of the Offa's Dyke path, crossing fields, hurdling stiles, avoiding bulls, crossing streams on slippy stones. It was undulating, and doing nothing for my knees and hips! Adidas Gazelles weren't exactly appropriate footwear. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iliC_vqSuQMoH4KZyRmnoNpskZjbO62xDGNZw4by-LpOpvCcnEoHEznCjK14-cngcuUHaqxjmpHisbcnooLOUd6SgIihJ8KryzDHYQmG4Gyd-XGkCMOs37-5QyOm4W-71gI1a2yQreSBm3AgcxXKISFYS_F6x59bMxL0piwvydEK3Emiu4diVuNs3Q/s4032/IMG_2012.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3iliC_vqSuQMoH4KZyRmnoNpskZjbO62xDGNZw4by-LpOpvCcnEoHEznCjK14-cngcuUHaqxjmpHisbcnooLOUd6SgIihJ8KryzDHYQmG4Gyd-XGkCMOs37-5QyOm4W-71gI1a2yQreSBm3AgcxXKISFYS_F6x59bMxL0piwvydEK3Emiu4diVuNs3Q/s320/IMG_2012.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>At the end of a small patch of woodland, I drop down into the village, an ancient crone appraises me from the doorway of a cute ivy-clad cottage, and the pub soon comes into view.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAQAOo70EDzi8hrEheeQPnMR-dNuZQuoxcCIYpcMmWkjifhiO6esceup-xAuQ3XV7-Q2p-0zl1tOu34X0zDVt5HEW1uBQnjszfJeqsdQixSY28X2P4rX0bz05Z1QOUEs76oUvPq_cJySrVmKBDanarCr-0anx2u2W0D77T-jUzB9YSl_2YjuswXSIYUg/s4032/IMG_2013.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAQAOo70EDzi8hrEheeQPnMR-dNuZQuoxcCIYpcMmWkjifhiO6esceup-xAuQ3XV7-Q2p-0zl1tOu34X0zDVt5HEW1uBQnjszfJeqsdQixSY28X2P4rX0bz05Z1QOUEs76oUvPq_cJySrVmKBDanarCr-0anx2u2W0D77T-jUzB9YSl_2YjuswXSIYUg/s320/IMG_2013.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8SVW-Shd1n8SvaxdO9OH7V2hqlSyGpxNSUGGGLN-ZcHqBRTBPFP1NlTh-3Rb6PiubRgh8Yad2cjUcOVMcrREMiPp2cuY3Kmk3Y6B17Iwa_wgAXQhJAmpvgwM6N5DDLr0KYS-hK7E2jPij7tszyGXhCx29-L8hZ6bO55bR8P5pdYfA9drvyk4X65FUg/s4032/IMG_2014.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF8SVW-Shd1n8SvaxdO9OH7V2hqlSyGpxNSUGGGLN-ZcHqBRTBPFP1NlTh-3Rb6PiubRgh8Yad2cjUcOVMcrREMiPp2cuY3Kmk3Y6B17Iwa_wgAXQhJAmpvgwM6N5DDLr0KYS-hK7E2jPij7tszyGXhCx29-L8hZ6bO55bR8P5pdYfA9drvyk4X65FUg/s320/IMG_2014.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>I enter the <b>Hunter's Moon Inn, Llangattock Lingoed (2418 / 3982), </b>a sweaty mess, puffing and blowing, so it is a bit of a shame the landlord doesn't make at least some sort of comment! I'm absolutely ruined. Same beer choice as in Llanthony, so this time I opt for an HPA, and I find it preferable to the Butty Bach although generally, I favour traditional bitters. I'd only heard good things about this pub from those I'd spoke to today, but it fails to impress. It feels very much like a walkers/bikers destination pub. The raised area, which must take up over 50% of the pub, appears to be a restaurant. It has the same ancient, basic feel as my previous two pubs, but this one is more knowing. 'Banter' is present between the woollen guv'nor and his youthful chargers, but it doesn't extend across the other side of the bar to faces they don't recognise. All the more frustrating when I've made such an effort to get here, but they don't know that. In my Tim Taylor's sweatshirt sat by the front door to get some much needed air, I'm the unwitting first point of contact for the two couples arriving to check in for the night. I feel like a meeter and greeter brewer rep. "Hello!" I say to the older couple, summoning up the 1% of positivity left in me. "We're just off to move the car, but we'll be back in for a drink" the wife tells me, obviously confused. 'Didn't ask hun' I want to say. But at least it makes me smile, in a wincing kind of way, for I know the walk that lies ahead of me!</p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>It is, and will have to be until 2040 for this walk to be worth it.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLwfh22l8IhJc00VlLz8OxtrVZmSeOqDepjarCzAT4FG1WFpaV5wuOVzQI8DaenGbs2wsfvgHqt6OGfHPUOLVUq6S6bogOARFxbD6tgpLz_8-s0zAzDCyBmNvKeSA0n5p1P2O97rvkG5-CXEj01skEUZmAOEMKx0P2JOF2i6zvFERDOrp1GDGJTaeFg/s4032/IMG_2015.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihLwfh22l8IhJc00VlLz8OxtrVZmSeOqDepjarCzAT4FG1WFpaV5wuOVzQI8DaenGbs2wsfvgHqt6OGfHPUOLVUq6S6bogOARFxbD6tgpLz_8-s0zAzDCyBmNvKeSA0n5p1P2O97rvkG5-CXEj01skEUZmAOEMKx0P2JOF2i6zvFERDOrp1GDGJTaeFg/s320/IMG_2015.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9cXZ427tqkEnUooueCQ7ua2-PAA-EvMjNlmrEylqGklcbDQmUKvxwMMTmcvbFZSHlUUoFUL6jirCcRSZv0lUyMDYbpDytZyoEVtMeIFqAg7n_asWHwLJ6PuS-vEz4CIn_17OzLR5FW1tqKN0Ge-pnxLjcev9DwFAGpQs18_E5fbkc5W7u8ApkwsJ4A/s3729/IMG_2016.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3729" data-original-width="3021" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-9cXZ427tqkEnUooueCQ7ua2-PAA-EvMjNlmrEylqGklcbDQmUKvxwMMTmcvbFZSHlUUoFUL6jirCcRSZv0lUyMDYbpDytZyoEVtMeIFqAg7n_asWHwLJ6PuS-vEz4CIn_17OzLR5FW1tqKN0Ge-pnxLjcev9DwFAGpQs18_E5fbkc5W7u8ApkwsJ4A/s320/IMG_2016.HEIC" width="259" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhRTD0iNeVaBhTK1-pXgxdCLHpc6iRwyBtknk9m_jt4Z8tNC10pH2YETUTBH3odE-KXSOoS-cqJE7Arn9ureZfpmopH9VAmwB3ljWKutgtIGatJpfZsTfx_bdjkosGvUUtjESn046tdQKQTSyy0C627D6hVPfULUUdCGXmUlZfVlg-vk08LuhZfgZQbQ/s3543/IMG_2017.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3543" data-original-width="2874" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhRTD0iNeVaBhTK1-pXgxdCLHpc6iRwyBtknk9m_jt4Z8tNC10pH2YETUTBH3odE-KXSOoS-cqJE7Arn9ureZfpmopH9VAmwB3ljWKutgtIGatJpfZsTfx_bdjkosGvUUtjESn046tdQKQTSyy0C627D6hVPfULUUdCGXmUlZfVlg-vk08LuhZfgZQbQ/s320/IMG_2017.HEIC" width="260" /></a></div><br />And I will tell you about that walk back, and my attempts to get back to the 'Gavenny in part two, hopefully tomorrow. <p></p><p>Luckily, the ever reliable Twitter was on hand for a timely morale booster .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGyVpEpALpVtlterNEzE4WpR0XIbOW6sGzWIJX5ysdR6a5TST2dL2yPnpB7tgxiayB7GkZIrEiphHLB5bUxG3kFl52aU8BLCTz98hvfjV4MWl5rGTZN7wc0_CBEiCickfTCNTH1iBLL2KSLWGgncZuVty7MxubeepRYyxKEUfiU7mNWtOCpePPY51qlg/s750/IMG_2776.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="459" data-original-width="750" height="196" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGyVpEpALpVtlterNEzE4WpR0XIbOW6sGzWIJX5ysdR6a5TST2dL2yPnpB7tgxiayB7GkZIrEiphHLB5bUxG3kFl52aU8BLCTz98hvfjV4MWl5rGTZN7wc0_CBEiCickfTCNTH1iBLL2KSLWGgncZuVty7MxubeepRYyxKEUfiU7mNWtOCpePPY51qlg/s320/IMG_2776.PNG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Have a good night all,</p><p>Si </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-29251523156511223452022-11-11T21:11:00.002+00:002022-11-11T21:11:15.449+00:00BRAPA in .... THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVERSHAM THINGS (Kenty was Plenty Part 11/11) <p>We were on the home stretch. Three pubs left of the holiday, although at this stage, I had vague hopes of pushing myself for 8 or 9 pubs out in Hernia Bay, but that'd prove a step too far. </p><p>Today's chauffeur extraordinaire, Richard Pitcher had one more rural pub up his sleeve before he drove up to Derbyshire for some joyful East Mids pub fun. Derbyshire? Completed it mate. But I'll have to again. Several times.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_zgUIR8n1pI-wy-Tnl9SBOU-EfZzCpxHUlf1TP_MyYM68Em2F13RJL6jdLrNd81Lg-qll_hwxbWZRxUxJuK2ZgJuXeyDyIKoTsEx-sgHeiHjlnOH2KT-pwYkGZNePezgH2ayrmoqhEwv3LQfuktbJv4BHwgtiwPg4YkXz1n-CZZUfy4WmEyFYkahn4g/s4032/IMG_1940.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_zgUIR8n1pI-wy-Tnl9SBOU-EfZzCpxHUlf1TP_MyYM68Em2F13RJL6jdLrNd81Lg-qll_hwxbWZRxUxJuK2ZgJuXeyDyIKoTsEx-sgHeiHjlnOH2KT-pwYkGZNePezgH2ayrmoqhEwv3LQfuktbJv4BHwgtiwPg4YkXz1n-CZZUfy4WmEyFYkahn4g/s320/IMG_1940.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>You have to feel sorry for <b>Chequers, Doddington (2413 / 3977). </b>Any pub following the Shipwrights out in Hollowshore was going to feel anti-climactic. Imagine seeing ABBA at some big Euro music festival in Sweden 1976, and then in some strange running order mishap, Bachman Turner Overdrive follow them, and their first song isn't even You Ain't Seen Nothin' Yet but Blue Moanin'. It was a sturdy village pub with plenty of history, 14th century or something crazy old, it had a Kentish dartboard (no double or trebles cos Kent people are notoriously bad at sums). It had a pleasingly deep pub garden. It had multi-levels. I was served a pint of that Shepherd's Neame Summer Storm IPA, the same beer I had in Boughton Monchelsea yesterday. It was better on this occasion, but like that pub, this wouldn't make the '23 GBG either. And the two woolly blokes next to us who admitted to be jealous of the BRAPA concept, starting chatting to us about places as varied as Brecon & Sheffield. Like I said, a much better pub than my brain was willing to give it credit for at the time. </p><p><b>In current GBG? </b>I've just told you, cloth ears! The curse of the Summer Storm IPA!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG3bXJANxEZQX1vkPm9LS_SHFuI7zdP67vZq88RzAWhwgYKFcYh0zm2-3PqlzIJx_aVLWNBGZepF3K6TQlIb94wQs0VVnQA6GQVxrbhy5X0g5iWBt_yaynWmqv4y7m_Wi_Wk7XdILoJjE3HBeUYJ4z7FSchArlTcQI-gU3HcaurRAWeCTCzYSRTN7cSw/s4032/IMG_1941.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhG3bXJANxEZQX1vkPm9LS_SHFuI7zdP67vZq88RzAWhwgYKFcYh0zm2-3PqlzIJx_aVLWNBGZepF3K6TQlIb94wQs0VVnQA6GQVxrbhy5X0g5iWBt_yaynWmqv4y7m_Wi_Wk7XdILoJjE3HBeUYJ4z7FSchArlTcQI-gU3HcaurRAWeCTCzYSRTN7cSw/s320/IMG_1941.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlsbnU113wOJcWjMrE8_fd8C1ezWoUhG_p0EDzibMhFXsoRWUnS179s_aUhPlReBhNb7yAWxTBzjNvSlJ-BiCuiWd99TFfPIoqNV-maVRavSm2MGCN5daOTC40aptNicWh9KUIOa-hbCE7A3wxinbTTyRwcwpLWIXujZwzLFW3wSOnEtROVV2mW-LhA/s4032/IMG_1946.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKlsbnU113wOJcWjMrE8_fd8C1ezWoUhG_p0EDzibMhFXsoRWUnS179s_aUhPlReBhNb7yAWxTBzjNvSlJ-BiCuiWd99TFfPIoqNV-maVRavSm2MGCN5daOTC40aptNicWh9KUIOa-hbCE7A3wxinbTTyRwcwpLWIXujZwzLFW3wSOnEtROVV2mW-LhA/s320/IMG_1946.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrucVSJk-HHPcv61HhxJPued6ShQniZaXZo5nFrA1BCOqtHW8RXYyJATCh43uzjl_Q4_1XRxJEiaZBIWRG3lhK8cmxyzgKogqqIcU3qrMnSFPyILwGhTXV5koYzP2qpnGuULgmBV9mj0DeP_9UcaCduvi456Lkkw4rCB0IIRUizoc98kQqKSxTWj5Xfg/s4032/IMG_1945.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrucVSJk-HHPcv61HhxJPued6ShQniZaXZo5nFrA1BCOqtHW8RXYyJATCh43uzjl_Q4_1XRxJEiaZBIWRG3lhK8cmxyzgKogqqIcU3qrMnSFPyILwGhTXV5koYzP2qpnGuULgmBV9mj0DeP_9UcaCduvi456Lkkw4rCB0IIRUizoc98kQqKSxTWj5Xfg/s320/IMG_1945.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTEDo7AvQuIz6x73aAZDrDQ4LnX--oGeCF3oXklpA8KdkkgcS0pwzYAU_LNYP_6IE5ObIc6Fdy9nxSZLaNTX8yYVXS1OsWaPlhiBjooy0Ieurd73JTQEoj2tO3e9mNsSIq8p9yODhksMdNmDDnW8muPij7f6uPfPjCys64vwpJ2eFgQkLh3_eVPuOwQ/s4032/IMG_1944.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioTEDo7AvQuIz6x73aAZDrDQ4LnX--oGeCF3oXklpA8KdkkgcS0pwzYAU_LNYP_6IE5ObIc6Fdy9nxSZLaNTX8yYVXS1OsWaPlhiBjooy0Ieurd73JTQEoj2tO3e9mNsSIq8p9yODhksMdNmDDnW8muPij7f6uPfPjCys64vwpJ2eFgQkLh3_eVPuOwQ/s320/IMG_1944.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnoUlf7sAERhdj_lCS-a6cm7bsP-cyDhtMT1csKVFKYRHyNzuTBgkzq45HP1Zrsls0Ni17QkJAqpQsfl-kAOMAH840_N5KAH7U6SWesqop8U1zF6ys2vpNP_cD55OflHOMe6kiIX_09ZVz9JxIcUywBAkrG4FBnAD_fSElqlnmHtewZvZKfx0N49BjQ/s4032/IMG_1943.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJnoUlf7sAERhdj_lCS-a6cm7bsP-cyDhtMT1csKVFKYRHyNzuTBgkzq45HP1Zrsls0Ni17QkJAqpQsfl-kAOMAH840_N5KAH7U6SWesqop8U1zF6ys2vpNP_cD55OflHOMe6kiIX_09ZVz9JxIcUywBAkrG4FBnAD_fSElqlnmHtewZvZKfx0N49BjQ/s320/IMG_1943.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hMuMhlxV5xa0OUzwZ4jQDWdMfxBZNuFkhg9EK8Rk9R_iLDaQKdl5mMBpL4IJUFmDWOfA-EtfXxm7P39g24HQkB7qxMNSM7RcssS1fB8B_m7h79NLVIp8DI9wQlQZqSis6T5K2jTc7AAXU43rvvgxxjn5826vJ_A2pe0vnfU46qWBU7GwVl7EXDYy_Q/s2027/IMG_1947.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2027" data-original-width="1520" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6hMuMhlxV5xa0OUzwZ4jQDWdMfxBZNuFkhg9EK8Rk9R_iLDaQKdl5mMBpL4IJUFmDWOfA-EtfXxm7P39g24HQkB7qxMNSM7RcssS1fB8B_m7h79NLVIp8DI9wQlQZqSis6T5K2jTc7AAXU43rvvgxxjn5826vJ_A2pe0vnfU46qWBU7GwVl7EXDYy_Q/s320/IMG_1947.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Time to say farewell to Richard as he drops me back in Faversham. I'd have to go solo in my final two pubs. </p><p>He says I've inspired him to try and get a fully green Kent this year. Oooh, it is a slippery slope. That's how pub ticking starts. Firstly, it is 'where you live'. Then it is 'whole county'. Next thing you know, you are hopping on a ferry to Rousay with your silly mascot and a full bladder, weary of the world. And we will meet again. He is going to help me with some more rural mid/south Kent is the coming weeks / months.</p><p>Anyway, pub six of this epic day .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimu0gDpBaKitHDg1N8q6nKrsy2DekuCVZWn0rTz7a-TVVT-6NwOvWGWbRiotMJwnmDUBUMrR7LycJTQqSK5Tr_Q_qh9lnTgncnyB81bzGRkB0D0l6TDUwMJ5JZkZMDjtJgmESlEGgCut5Kyo4-cdLoKRmIJbxddPSlH2c6xkCOZgvOugXSdMBLrQYFfA/s3454/IMG_1948.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3454" data-original-width="3022" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimu0gDpBaKitHDg1N8q6nKrsy2DekuCVZWn0rTz7a-TVVT-6NwOvWGWbRiotMJwnmDUBUMrR7LycJTQqSK5Tr_Q_qh9lnTgncnyB81bzGRkB0D0l6TDUwMJ5JZkZMDjtJgmESlEGgCut5Kyo4-cdLoKRmIJbxddPSlH2c6xkCOZgvOugXSdMBLrQYFfA/s320/IMG_1948.HEIC" width="280" /></a></div><br /><p>Not only is it a particularly handsome pub from the outside, <b>Elephant, Faversham (2414 / 3978)</b> is a pearler within. I'd never have believed Shipwrights would be trumped today, but I think the Ele has the edge - reason being it is more of a living, breathing boozer, whereas Shipwrights was more a curio, a historic relic of a bygone age. Quality is apparent the second I walk through the door, and so enthused am I by my first impressions and bubbly hostess, I start telling her my history with Elgood's Black Dog. She looks at me half amused, like '... but Si, I didn't ask'. If you want to know my history with Elgood's Black Dog, ask me in person. Or I'll set up a patreon and you can pay for the privilege and then curse me for wasting your time and money. I plonk myself down on the flimsy but fabulous narrow purple benches and sup my mild. I'm drawn to the sight of a ginger cat next to a moody looking old bloke with a handle bar moustache. A man with no socks plonks himself between us and starts reading his Bob Mortimer book. We exchange nods, but the cat knows a 'cat person' and trots over and eventually falls asleep next to me. Handle bar man looks slightly put out, and not just because his favourite Southampton micro has closed down. A truly brilliant pub, I think it had outdoor loos and a nice little courtyard too. </p><p><b>In current GBG? </b>Hell to the yeah!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCzyr2F8vLHbxeXNP8MmirjJ_jxoyVSyHwJd3yjrsi9-GT58-46eTph4y951zzVzxGdu3AcD8INFEGk0lv3wvp2bSFo_jXbCup4Q1kYGPUzKj-FnW66rxGRiP-SgEm8gK8zCdSatLXYqZyEQPjdRGqaFWybAioLsmuS_qo6gV-giZg7UIRgxQt_KB_ow/s1920/38C1C266-9D1D-4154-BDCC-7076AF28A438.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1920" data-original-width="1080" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCzyr2F8vLHbxeXNP8MmirjJ_jxoyVSyHwJd3yjrsi9-GT58-46eTph4y951zzVzxGdu3AcD8INFEGk0lv3wvp2bSFo_jXbCup4Q1kYGPUzKj-FnW66rxGRiP-SgEm8gK8zCdSatLXYqZyEQPjdRGqaFWybAioLsmuS_qo6gV-giZg7UIRgxQt_KB_ow/s320/38C1C266-9D1D-4154-BDCC-7076AF28A438.jpg" width="180" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LybXZo0tY0F4wOoNxdk67XY6b-fwl6uN6nIi_Yk25mEPJLzfGu0fWP8wU3PdgTwX2zd6ByPXj5i9JrZI3r_oOwBjBGztpNiz8NiY0e2aDpxIFHVHYmONoWBUuF2bIXzt8tG8dcmuzG4t-XfAp68R-6Io4ijzjYp5gNA8u2SipkaQfekCFImESlxEug/s1024/IMG_1956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="792" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_LybXZo0tY0F4wOoNxdk67XY6b-fwl6uN6nIi_Yk25mEPJLzfGu0fWP8wU3PdgTwX2zd6ByPXj5i9JrZI3r_oOwBjBGztpNiz8NiY0e2aDpxIFHVHYmONoWBUuF2bIXzt8tG8dcmuzG4t-XfAp68R-6Io4ijzjYp5gNA8u2SipkaQfekCFImESlxEug/s320/IMG_1956.JPG" width="248" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9rZ1m7f1bxuijZ4uUbEaJzZ9ygAc5MlqQa8zyNVPF6xjVKly6sLNKIlnP8Cd4on36kpm9avbD40TIOz7w_l9VcpQeFYJgNFywrOuO_Lrcv1-qM_K8KHjYR72ZqIMUIDhvPWDEJ33yoD3fSaYQD0BariI-sIfjR6TI5oHJZjuk-dwNsjDKX-brF3AiA/s3811/IMG_1955.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3811" data-original-width="2785" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig9rZ1m7f1bxuijZ4uUbEaJzZ9ygAc5MlqQa8zyNVPF6xjVKly6sLNKIlnP8Cd4on36kpm9avbD40TIOz7w_l9VcpQeFYJgNFywrOuO_Lrcv1-qM_K8KHjYR72ZqIMUIDhvPWDEJ33yoD3fSaYQD0BariI-sIfjR6TI5oHJZjuk-dwNsjDKX-brF3AiA/s320/IMG_1955.HEIC" width="234" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApAHnA-Zqqv8goNhw7eoOcoX_IlpSYv9ZNNrOUffzEUrbg7mFOeLB_129Weo7eYvX8sxbDilfK3JkUkY4eVmxjmNyqpGQb0jatyIEzsMlkUfKEc4x8YEQ-2U2jgh7XkTnM4_VOr7VoiiDXZbEX69o9b0V1Qprf3SmF_XZQv6XAcPOCBSWMqzvGouGaA/s4032/IMG_1954.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjApAHnA-Zqqv8goNhw7eoOcoX_IlpSYv9ZNNrOUffzEUrbg7mFOeLB_129Weo7eYvX8sxbDilfK3JkUkY4eVmxjmNyqpGQb0jatyIEzsMlkUfKEc4x8YEQ-2U2jgh7XkTnM4_VOr7VoiiDXZbEX69o9b0V1Qprf3SmF_XZQv6XAcPOCBSWMqzvGouGaA/s320/IMG_1954.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZqxQVslBecn9UDesTSNAr7u_IP_7FjUwFwHVhhlhBoxpHnbEIn92EPq6ZS3NK5HUWgkRP52Yz_qwYQtHXgA5nVAcdMWR2--TwLGQcLQq1jzPLmA_0VjLDuTcv6l9ZLsX-BlNQEeWAVMKteSVBAP_YV-Z2Ose9y5Ls8W-t53ejesO6qV1sRKmmFMIaQ/s4032/IMG_1953.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbZqxQVslBecn9UDesTSNAr7u_IP_7FjUwFwHVhhlhBoxpHnbEIn92EPq6ZS3NK5HUWgkRP52Yz_qwYQtHXgA5nVAcdMWR2--TwLGQcLQq1jzPLmA_0VjLDuTcv6l9ZLsX-BlNQEeWAVMKteSVBAP_YV-Z2Ose9y5Ls8W-t53ejesO6qV1sRKmmFMIaQ/s320/IMG_1953.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz5sMuJzC9t5Wy3_wlUMaXP00ytHcucZOk7JzqBPUBjeTmALKqQJOI2nMXI9a_gSUJSF6lhxgd80zE7wDztGAYNL3ge-U_SXN0kPolJ_DabzhqADeUGiTx2LJdkpQOYRBXK4LeHBzX9rr_NEKzabItfK1GhJ8HREwlrEtPBa1CKceneuolQixW9SNhbw/s4032/IMG_1952.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz5sMuJzC9t5Wy3_wlUMaXP00ytHcucZOk7JzqBPUBjeTmALKqQJOI2nMXI9a_gSUJSF6lhxgd80zE7wDztGAYNL3ge-U_SXN0kPolJ_DabzhqADeUGiTx2LJdkpQOYRBXK4LeHBzX9rr_NEKzabItfK1GhJ8HREwlrEtPBa1CKceneuolQixW9SNhbw/s320/IMG_1952.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>I'd heard plenty of good things about today's final pub too, a Shepherd Neamer. Time to revive my old joke? What do you call a pint of Spitfire floating in the toilet bowl? Finding Shepherd Neamo. </p><p>Errrm yeah, time to go and explore....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvnRqqLpx3BAqwEW26RZzLh26ILqkAP4ihnCEPtAPC-apn9rhda18wjeBrA1ADJu3jF32_Bx0LX7hNrcM5yuP-B2DWG-SRUOQJROn7b2vckJ_EohpJWyKfeUIZauevJs3uanm4bLS6mgFtAgX-D98KeK3RpcFUKpaWLLFa864ddcvgS-oO4RCuIS68gA/s4032/IMG_1959.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvnRqqLpx3BAqwEW26RZzLh26ILqkAP4ihnCEPtAPC-apn9rhda18wjeBrA1ADJu3jF32_Bx0LX7hNrcM5yuP-B2DWG-SRUOQJROn7b2vckJ_EohpJWyKfeUIZauevJs3uanm4bLS6mgFtAgX-D98KeK3RpcFUKpaWLLFa864ddcvgS-oO4RCuIS68gA/s320/IMG_1959.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>But it was not to be a positive end to my six days in Kent at <b>Bear Inn, Faverhsam (2415 / 3979) </b>as I make the mistake of swinging an immediate right into the quiet front bar. I cannot tell exactly what ales are on, so I ask, and by gum, the barmaid is so RUDE. Which follows right through into paying for my drink. Sadly, I can't remember the exact exchange as this is pint seven but I remember the one lady customer sat at the bar clocking my 'cheek blowing out, raised eyebrows' expression of disgust, and throwing me an amused glance! 'Not staying in here' I whisper, and take my (pretty damn poor) pint of Shitstable Bay down this gorgeous creaking long thin wooden corridor, where a series of entrances also to the right take you into a large backroom. This is where the action is, a busy vibrant youthful scene greets me and I plonk myself and my dishwatery pint down on one of the few free tables. Not bad for 5pm on a Thursday, work chucking out time maybe. Pubs ain't dead yet. As I glance barwards, the staff in here are all young, attractive, fresh faced, smiley and plenty of warm exchanges with the customers are taking place. I bet the Spitfire was drinking well too. A real case of 'what might have been' but if there is one thing I can't condone, even above poor beer, it is rude staff, even if it just one bad apple.</p><p><b>In current GBG? </b>It is, and I wasn't even surprised.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZtqOtSggJlCQAc1x92Tf5W9MUGDA56i3PFUdTGu-9FcknF6GYG_iIav4tfHgJD0Yg_f-YAzxpOS90oSETuAFaNIePwPjfhRGJ5TSWFmL7wu69QBsvHC_3FlQUL0PIoq0v3R0l9KRTdUbHSC5j_Ajms8AHHtng0k4J8B5Nh5uFIe28wvuJnkuoUpGCw/s4032/IMG_1960.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSZtqOtSggJlCQAc1x92Tf5W9MUGDA56i3PFUdTGu-9FcknF6GYG_iIav4tfHgJD0Yg_f-YAzxpOS90oSETuAFaNIePwPjfhRGJ5TSWFmL7wu69QBsvHC_3FlQUL0PIoq0v3R0l9KRTdUbHSC5j_Ajms8AHHtng0k4J8B5Nh5uFIe28wvuJnkuoUpGCw/s320/IMG_1960.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpR3tx5M-sdWzAyKIrEhNDFRGUTJ6YXMBw2jJiaMozei_rAAVaK5wB9PFGD8Izi8cHMzkiufEeRO4I1tGGqso2uf7wsZb8MEADPVieOnEfN3BH8uEdcbqEnKDm9TF_AiAgyTOBJF8Tycx_Pdyy6c0CohgaoJ5ZBMzltk7PviNLv-SXSzHfUM3FF5ZxkA/s4032/IMG_1961.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpR3tx5M-sdWzAyKIrEhNDFRGUTJ6YXMBw2jJiaMozei_rAAVaK5wB9PFGD8Izi8cHMzkiufEeRO4I1tGGqso2uf7wsZb8MEADPVieOnEfN3BH8uEdcbqEnKDm9TF_AiAgyTOBJF8Tycx_Pdyy6c0CohgaoJ5ZBMzltk7PviNLv-SXSzHfUM3FF5ZxkA/s320/IMG_1961.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOPLrj--VLodKS7f-0h8s7YX_jBO6vD0ygypitVH_YMpORE73nc5VwQolxHDn6azy1Kmc-MJ_Mkjm0cr_2xsqZDROP3KCrAcJh97zqA_qRWvGUm--uvoRnYb0nf-o8QcI-eX3r_sL27jNvfh--qPeHqR4rgHGKnIIK4vVraEC_QyawLmts6v_4J-S8A/s4032/IMG_1963.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidOPLrj--VLodKS7f-0h8s7YX_jBO6vD0ygypitVH_YMpORE73nc5VwQolxHDn6azy1Kmc-MJ_Mkjm0cr_2xsqZDROP3KCrAcJh97zqA_qRWvGUm--uvoRnYb0nf-o8QcI-eX3r_sL27jNvfh--qPeHqR4rgHGKnIIK4vVraEC_QyawLmts6v_4J-S8A/s320/IMG_1963.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbNJOOkqU7LnDZO6A5SO_-vHZ3nbe9d4qj0KzweNDHj6QAbLxTTI8tBGxLSLtcRn31AAlDtnTfkjWsLtbaDuGFRiJbElCXPN5CYA4U78LH1aawEQuAj6F8Pvy0DTlvCYk7WKbNN40xqiWCfulmqieE84l3fhBxlpH3KtroDb1oJBk3ktfns7q2YWjzg/s4032/IMG_1962.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbNJOOkqU7LnDZO6A5SO_-vHZ3nbe9d4qj0KzweNDHj6QAbLxTTI8tBGxLSLtcRn31AAlDtnTfkjWsLtbaDuGFRiJbElCXPN5CYA4U78LH1aawEQuAj6F8Pvy0DTlvCYk7WKbNN40xqiWCfulmqieE84l3fhBxlpH3KtroDb1oJBk3ktfns7q2YWjzg/s320/IMG_1962.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>So, as you can see, 'difficult Kent' was greening up nicely as I took the train back to Sittingbourne for a relaxing final night.</p><p>Of course, the new 2023 GBG has kept absolutely every pub I hadn't greened in this section, whilst removing plenty I'd visited this holiday - but decent progress, and my aim is a fully green Kent by September 2023. Just booked next year's holidays with work, and I'm pleased to say, they are once again plentiful. </p><p>See you on Sunday where I'm going to tell you about the day I walked 50K steps in north Gwent in ONE DAY and absolutely ruined myself!</p><p>Si </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-70261816780284847492022-11-07T21:19:00.003+00:002022-11-07T21:34:57.680+00:00BRAPA is ..... PITCHER PERFECT (Kenty was Plenty Part 10/11) <p>Sadly, this isn't a tale about the day I finally turned my back on boring real ale, ordered a pitcher of 'Woo Woo' and 'Sex on the Beach', and went 'oi oi, chug chug chug'. I'm sure that day will come. Five zillion new Central London ticks to do after all.</p><p>'Twas my final day in Kent (sad face), a six day holiday just isn't enough in a pub county like this. </p><p>Selling your house, not shaving for a year, living in a cave or a tent on a diet of berries and small woodland mammals is the best way to crack Kent in an expedient manner.</p><p>This was pub two, and this is today's BRAPA and chauffeur, Faversham's favourite son, Richard Pitcher:</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrNGHqMmcOX44GKT6g5lXc1coxfb8A6qA4CjtWwAc5ulIRNLcUOqFMo-qgRDcA7TpV4CEOV5W6fqv8wYBk74_KPJyAn86Vb-DpvlkTbSUUmIyTdgn6gsDP3Iy92jO4wEnq-2QeFIDgcbNGS8hB-XXWRiSH_vcYnWk3CMulX7bu7EyEMFN8MMD94eKdA/s4032/IMG_1920.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisrNGHqMmcOX44GKT6g5lXc1coxfb8A6qA4CjtWwAc5ulIRNLcUOqFMo-qgRDcA7TpV4CEOV5W6fqv8wYBk74_KPJyAn86Vb-DpvlkTbSUUmIyTdgn6gsDP3Iy92jO4wEnq-2QeFIDgcbNGS8hB-XXWRiSH_vcYnWk3CMulX7bu7EyEMFN8MMD94eKdA/s320/IMG_1920.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><b>Sun, Bredgar (2410 / 3974) </b>was quite shit, in nearly every way. I could leave it there, but I best expand. It was soulless but fairly busy, mainly due to a large group of elderly gents in lycra ignorantly blocking floor space and causing trip hazards with giant rucksacks, or with their faces in the nosebag. The younger barmaid was a misery guts, making no effort on the facial muscle front, serving us from a misery guts range of Courage Directors or Shep Neame Master Brew. I opted for the latter despite two recent bad experiences with it, and the one chink of light in this sorry tale is that the M.B. was excellent qual. - more like the beer that Kent folk keep telling me it should be. The older barmaid almost returns Richard's smile. But it comes so unnaturally, her face contorts into a twitchy sour grimace. At least the village duck pond was nice. I bet her ancestors got dunked in here 300 years ago. I'd hardly been enthused by the Three Tuns at Lower Halstow despite its CAMRA award winning status, but compared with this, it was the Red Lion at Snargate. And I've not even been to that one yet! </p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>No. Ha! But I can't really crow about it cos any churn is unhelpful.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoHfO96ZaVKIsZiINuMvkLbUMeXz93uz1xvuGRSIw4zkCEF0IE_U8kVthNYv3kruBdvrH2HSFX2bqo-82is9IB2HshngvW2Qt6xnvQP-QvqKuXGINlrrUYC76TP746WKWpJdpmQ8q126wJyWapIivNbdcnlEVLZQznHhEyuwQbqRNYerop5EWOVDc3A/s4032/IMG_1921.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheoHfO96ZaVKIsZiINuMvkLbUMeXz93uz1xvuGRSIw4zkCEF0IE_U8kVthNYv3kruBdvrH2HSFX2bqo-82is9IB2HshngvW2Qt6xnvQP-QvqKuXGINlrrUYC76TP746WKWpJdpmQ8q126wJyWapIivNbdcnlEVLZQznHhEyuwQbqRNYerop5EWOVDc3A/s320/IMG_1921.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Wqo2ucazqw2BebufalWlYncTW87w7mCKdrrKGDzutQfVDeyaTRT037d5Jd-cyETZHWsjpZcg4smboHyFWlHAUKh-OwzxbxUmYohQOWHjQfiV6hmLbdSJ_PFGwYvX0mGJbt6HUQzumm-kpnDeNNtnm_Rx_iTwiR07ogyZ2unAQESujaTrna_lnwxeVA/s4032/IMG_1924.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Wqo2ucazqw2BebufalWlYncTW87w7mCKdrrKGDzutQfVDeyaTRT037d5Jd-cyETZHWsjpZcg4smboHyFWlHAUKh-OwzxbxUmYohQOWHjQfiV6hmLbdSJ_PFGwYvX0mGJbt6HUQzumm-kpnDeNNtnm_Rx_iTwiR07ogyZ2unAQESujaTrna_lnwxeVA/s320/IMG_1924.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6MWsjf5SIOWsrhCg_D5KnU-uk8_-EiZRAKcmjDnqudoXQbS33YWFdNBuwox4BQXs2IFmrA7IaPDqBrvFhZYQii0zIjcagHXvcl_DoOfP6SSzFOiPMlsHmLMOEgRwj7tPsLExtbT8PUk1ErxMiyJN9Fg64ncJcOZeod6g78cLihffT-F_2mTXDozIDg/s4032/IMG_1922.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw6MWsjf5SIOWsrhCg_D5KnU-uk8_-EiZRAKcmjDnqudoXQbS33YWFdNBuwox4BQXs2IFmrA7IaPDqBrvFhZYQii0zIjcagHXvcl_DoOfP6SSzFOiPMlsHmLMOEgRwj7tPsLExtbT8PUk1ErxMiyJN9Fg64ncJcOZeod6g78cLihffT-F_2mTXDozIDg/s320/IMG_1922.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKpG8Jqq8pOfCb0Rg7rHRfeXl2OcPxAd8_bdGpeveB1IVulsC0Jv9YJwfkqbpTV02X860HrD13ggLWupPUND8-0w-_yS-xDtsA0qpTRuPterf6sCzzqukqEHo1JiSO2tXOpxPJ6jZiVC61bjIRwuKaH9IyYB1JOK5aTnefNjqs8raDF3CH3soedQhzQ/s4032/IMG_1923.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJKpG8Jqq8pOfCb0Rg7rHRfeXl2OcPxAd8_bdGpeveB1IVulsC0Jv9YJwfkqbpTV02X860HrD13ggLWupPUND8-0w-_yS-xDtsA0qpTRuPterf6sCzzqukqEHo1JiSO2tXOpxPJ6jZiVC61bjIRwuKaH9IyYB1JOK5aTnefNjqs8raDF3CH3soedQhzQ/s320/IMG_1923.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>It wouldn't be the most 'end of the line vaguely nautical' pub of the day, but there was something quite 'end of line vaguely nautical' about our third pub today .......</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlpRfBxXlbZ-cJKiFZ0I6ULFviJkIapbqNBAQvfusqwyZwkc-amIubS2W0wGLSih9aH_OCxIJExnKTrYFN-MXGqMZawGrP5xeEqlxR6iaKkcoRIdMF1VTgqzxY2O7MN3iZ1GahAfbZq7iq1x1uAMUwRHfW4ZH5F5U9XqYaynm5WuLRWXtmnyPgvn3rDQ/s4032/IMG_1925.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlpRfBxXlbZ-cJKiFZ0I6ULFviJkIapbqNBAQvfusqwyZwkc-amIubS2W0wGLSih9aH_OCxIJExnKTrYFN-MXGqMZawGrP5xeEqlxR6iaKkcoRIdMF1VTgqzxY2O7MN3iZ1GahAfbZq7iq1x1uAMUwRHfW4ZH5F5U9XqYaynm5WuLRWXtmnyPgvn3rDQ/s320/IMG_1925.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p><b>Ship, Conyer (2411 / 3975) </b>marked an upturn in fortunes today, although anything following the Sun in Bredgar would ..... unless perhaps you are a manic depressive who has the Bay Horse in Market Weighton as their local, or live in Maidstone and your limited mobility means you can only get as far as the Stag. "All pubs called the Ship should be in the GBG" Daddy BRAPA exclaimed Saturday just gone, and on this evidence I'd agree. Okay, so it was a bit bare boarded and sparse, but it had enough nautical nods to make it notable. It was empty when we arrived, unsurprising given the location? But it had a genuine warmth as the barmaid reminded us that it is possible to be a rural North Kenter, jolly and wear an exciting t-shirt. Canterbury Ales are fine, not my favourites, but as they tend to be named after Chaucer's tales I like the challenge of 'collecting' them. '3 Hop Pale' here, not one of better known works. In the process, I'm told off for pronouncing 'Bath' in a northern way. 'Baaarth?' Ugh! The ale slips down well, the taps in the loos were a bit too powerful, a random pile of logs threaten to do something, and the 'tables' look a bit like crypts. If Dracula wakes up, my pint spills everywhere. Some customers finally arrived, most notably a lady at the bar brandishing a menu. She orders custard, ice cream and steak. In that order.</p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>It is, and I think it just about deserves it!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37j_iTMo2JBeikSCBpRjv0MbvXMaqStzxKThJzl5b7jzbKRmehAkHHHFHa9ihTrGHplsADvJz0GAd_suG7jnG12ZVc9qVu7UFQtYU2c4x8QaYxBr5QWfJ4xtW1H6g0e34jp7JjYaQw__G7l8TEI017xyJje4980AEaENBQskhBDchQOAZxbTsNT83DA/s4032/IMG_1926.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg37j_iTMo2JBeikSCBpRjv0MbvXMaqStzxKThJzl5b7jzbKRmehAkHHHFHa9ihTrGHplsADvJz0GAd_suG7jnG12ZVc9qVu7UFQtYU2c4x8QaYxBr5QWfJ4xtW1H6g0e34jp7JjYaQw__G7l8TEI017xyJje4980AEaENBQskhBDchQOAZxbTsNT83DA/s320/IMG_1926.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCr9wLqJG4rMEwaB_QEqGWeugdBIJFIDyyMp3obC4-SN4yEaOR273vfgEMcmHI7FlIsE_cRaokCGLW6JEZ9--zdrg_osuDh6B1RixEvnjuNOpki_G_xDWHb7J3jJp3oAz61Tt4Yiz222OOoLoJ79V2y54kgYeXhVuXrRSFwWVL4C3BKtIvkZUKvAc0yg/s4032/IMG_1927.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCr9wLqJG4rMEwaB_QEqGWeugdBIJFIDyyMp3obC4-SN4yEaOR273vfgEMcmHI7FlIsE_cRaokCGLW6JEZ9--zdrg_osuDh6B1RixEvnjuNOpki_G_xDWHb7J3jJp3oAz61Tt4Yiz222OOoLoJ79V2y54kgYeXhVuXrRSFwWVL4C3BKtIvkZUKvAc0yg/s320/IMG_1927.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEic8J95ZFuG9MMA_K6yVTBYeZ4gPEHMqE_8hK9GiI4ekCGLmUX88yKwVn0E9JikJgnFYUh-f9JDoYm811wL5qcfK_1M2veC9b0syudzstBBUpRB2VQvHTa3wjLvc7k1NoBDtgQXuzPr1ebyeq1thg8QP7my2klKOAYMCPcRRX7moDU-SQ0YQsCHnwpQ/s4032/IMG_1928.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEic8J95ZFuG9MMA_K6yVTBYeZ4gPEHMqE_8hK9GiI4ekCGLmUX88yKwVn0E9JikJgnFYUh-f9JDoYm811wL5qcfK_1M2veC9b0syudzstBBUpRB2VQvHTa3wjLvc7k1NoBDtgQXuzPr1ebyeq1thg8QP7my2klKOAYMCPcRRX7moDU-SQ0YQsCHnwpQ/s320/IMG_1928.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfwTqPjpyqgzMQ4vq9WlbokCRKR1osmSYM9yqfEi7tysvweqDQJOtSy3ZeHqRDRXncJcgk5L9rWjQmdwhwyHY_9hFS4oDRWMzN_e1CPeiix7N-uWcXWfPFen8FT7whzMrRYuITPvECLshh4rgxJFJdnUpFRvk2DhXb88EMbz4oy6ZJJZOxqv8-GMHKA/s4032/IMG_1929.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWfwTqPjpyqgzMQ4vq9WlbokCRKR1osmSYM9yqfEi7tysvweqDQJOtSy3ZeHqRDRXncJcgk5L9rWjQmdwhwyHY_9hFS4oDRWMzN_e1CPeiix7N-uWcXWfPFen8FT7whzMrRYuITPvECLshh4rgxJFJdnUpFRvk2DhXb88EMbz4oy6ZJJZOxqv8-GMHKA/s320/IMG_1929.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>But if that was a vaguely nautical end of line step in the right direction, well, in the words of Bachman Turner Overdrive (who I only know about thanks to Smashie and Nicey), I ain't seen nothin' yet! </p><p>Our final pub of Part 10 is listed under Faversham, but in reality, it is as remote as any Kentish pub, in a made up place called Hollowshore. The roads soon become potholed dirt tracks leading nowhere, imagine a sort of 'Tandle-by-the-Sea'. You can look out to Sheppey from a reassuringly safe distance. It is magical. It is bleak. It is a throwback to a time I never experienced. It is impossible to fully do it justice without visting. </p><p>It closes mid afternoon, hence our haste to get this one 'out of the way'. The pub is like some weatherboarded hut, it is a bit like Round the Twist without being set in a lighthouse. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisg2vbyBqXx46naBK51Ag8uxgJtDCWxtFqR2Vgfx794OD6ss39H8IhyWA8p0Yg9L1qiTMf_373CzGvkG4NpHYjQ-nIT6ctEtfkJsUxQKvFWYx_UBsSUZfh6ydUfR0N668xcRFlQQsiUBc3DpeEXdHlT6C5tDGKFCsWa1A4z9w1va2oTu-5y3hcKOhv4g/s4032/IMG_1930.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisg2vbyBqXx46naBK51Ag8uxgJtDCWxtFqR2Vgfx794OD6ss39H8IhyWA8p0Yg9L1qiTMf_373CzGvkG4NpHYjQ-nIT6ctEtfkJsUxQKvFWYx_UBsSUZfh6ydUfR0N668xcRFlQQsiUBc3DpeEXdHlT6C5tDGKFCsWa1A4z9w1va2oTu-5y3hcKOhv4g/s320/IMG_1930.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglTlaEBrk-ZoIvq3Q1Mq2TWVz-dLhUTpqiz8bBa6tPBZL7cA00U39_yU36xvu84ax5uHbV9R-bmR1KZicQPQkXOTuziMfB5f1qPgixYr7eBTMLBAz2_fsdEZhNffYdRiADxsY2Or_6jzbXDL8Ew8oJFbxbKUJz0jnlXfaTlndc5vwshAwDI8CS7L095Q/s4032/IMG_1931.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglTlaEBrk-ZoIvq3Q1Mq2TWVz-dLhUTpqiz8bBa6tPBZL7cA00U39_yU36xvu84ax5uHbV9R-bmR1KZicQPQkXOTuziMfB5f1qPgixYr7eBTMLBAz2_fsdEZhNffYdRiADxsY2Or_6jzbXDL8Ew8oJFbxbKUJz0jnlXfaTlndc5vwshAwDI8CS7L095Q/s320/IMG_1931.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEpa9Z-j60GEYUNajpZgfBtsm7N7sOoeRYyl1sFgCCgiCulQWlKMDtqTwJhNsCcNyWG1JNh-6kgGh0BGBpMurvxFaYoo0IKOLPc9Od9-oCLDaQJ0uyqTAZ_IVDkZs6vQJUaUkROWDyuqeJJXP9K7mBZuzpoh1LXgOWU_w-97F4hxC_CxXCw8f3kR0DeQ/s1024/IMG_1939.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEpa9Z-j60GEYUNajpZgfBtsm7N7sOoeRYyl1sFgCCgiCulQWlKMDtqTwJhNsCcNyWG1JNh-6kgGh0BGBpMurvxFaYoo0IKOLPc9Od9-oCLDaQJ0uyqTAZ_IVDkZs6vQJUaUkROWDyuqeJJXP9K7mBZuzpoh1LXgOWU_w-97F4hxC_CxXCw8f3kR0DeQ/s320/IMG_1939.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSmf6BJCVkGNG9SPmKVkKOBu3U6C0dVO2PLbEuyM1uAvGM5-v2l_WHMWl7O6IAQ00hXejFb1PzAcWghN-7jWzDsbKm6u6QStbiimdTH1bFAiA0O4XnAS-KCvkIhAZ5jevza4EZMwTuK88V13n9vAWuC498hoINnj8fOc1xt3IfwlIF5-HKI9bpa50cDw/s4032/IMG_1933.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSmf6BJCVkGNG9SPmKVkKOBu3U6C0dVO2PLbEuyM1uAvGM5-v2l_WHMWl7O6IAQ00hXejFb1PzAcWghN-7jWzDsbKm6u6QStbiimdTH1bFAiA0O4XnAS-KCvkIhAZ5jevza4EZMwTuK88V13n9vAWuC498hoINnj8fOc1xt3IfwlIF5-HKI9bpa50cDw/s320/IMG_1933.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>Welcome to <b>Shipwrights Arms, Faversham (2412 / 3976). </b>The enchanting, spellbinding atmosphere continues into the bowels of this dimly lit, rickety wooden old jewel, full of seafaring bygone bric-a-brac. You can smell and hear the crackling woodburner, this pub needs it, the draught is permanent. A winter night in here must be special. Model ships dominate, but as I go to find the loo (rare sliding door not marked with 'gents' or 'ladies') a model pirate makes me jump, lurking behind some fishing nets. Suddenly the Ship at Conyer efforts look a bit token. The ales come directly from the barrel, I panic and go for a 4.8% Kent Prohibition. Gorgeous as it is, I wish I'd gone Goachers Mild, it may've helped me last the pace a bit longer later on! In an interesting juxtaposition to all that was encircling us, an American businessman stomped around, followed gingerly by the current owner, in what appeared to be a (not very) hostile takeover bid, uttering 'gee, ain't it swell?' every two minutes (probably). When American flags and bald eagles are jutting from every pub orifice in a few months time, you know where you heard it first. Visit while you can would be my advice, a beauty! <div><br /></div><div><b>Still in GBG? </b>You betcha! </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-HFFyi28gpTQQ0yCUqRQ_35qMKVZrMrjtexLEfU9Y3C78iR4oLzdFxxPv4iUulDOTpTE_bNzXdbE6Fm_rp-F3lJsV0ibLm9Zw3sqwkdIbEDVoCzRDGj3M9a38fv_8tqQ0lB7FAyT5P1ZCq7BcrQhSrAfJvVOCwJXli06IGFvwA33GU8yIpkjXwanzQ/s4032/IMG_1935.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-HFFyi28gpTQQ0yCUqRQ_35qMKVZrMrjtexLEfU9Y3C78iR4oLzdFxxPv4iUulDOTpTE_bNzXdbE6Fm_rp-F3lJsV0ibLm9Zw3sqwkdIbEDVoCzRDGj3M9a38fv_8tqQ0lB7FAyT5P1ZCq7BcrQhSrAfJvVOCwJXli06IGFvwA33GU8yIpkjXwanzQ/s320/IMG_1935.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioPTiCV7FzE1RwiSeVUNth5PKscSPdi9-NEACH9XYiqc2xR3_1xajcgs_IBfq8ZLn92YLcOBg9R3MHXh_EI4Z5MJRh-kYJ53cqc7ej4c9IqCLWAuc71HososuJgSYsNoVIShyCSOt1qqAFI7H_sl0IwCk2lTkhV_6b0uIA0P_UtKX7ylsz9amuGtH7Fg/s4032/IMG_1936.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioPTiCV7FzE1RwiSeVUNth5PKscSPdi9-NEACH9XYiqc2xR3_1xajcgs_IBfq8ZLn92YLcOBg9R3MHXh_EI4Z5MJRh-kYJ53cqc7ej4c9IqCLWAuc71HososuJgSYsNoVIShyCSOt1qqAFI7H_sl0IwCk2lTkhV_6b0uIA0P_UtKX7ylsz9amuGtH7Fg/s320/IMG_1936.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhad9OLd-sX6wQ_7pbdNLUeTP0xNOrzeJWiD1N7i-EV9Bc_UGLko0DAyAUb0yRdYGh8P4oY9i7DpIveHQgqnAuNcNYI9mvHsOrhCjMXfRg3sji3_rmWMlMrsJkmQAWpavnXkxroMj3TQ_Om_eN-eFS2MSkeQVUpsoZKVi5pwdbUNqxZQp1SJzP2iYtzCg/s3530/IMG_1937.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3023" data-original-width="3530" height="274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhad9OLd-sX6wQ_7pbdNLUeTP0xNOrzeJWiD1N7i-EV9Bc_UGLko0DAyAUb0yRdYGh8P4oY9i7DpIveHQgqnAuNcNYI9mvHsOrhCjMXfRg3sji3_rmWMlMrsJkmQAWpavnXkxroMj3TQ_Om_eN-eFS2MSkeQVUpsoZKVi5pwdbUNqxZQp1SJzP2iYtzCg/s320/IMG_1937.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEy4oPYIDzuJpShYr6TJ8TQPa8p22j5uz95MZtQrC7KWZ8RyMbBqyEL3CU73HJhCnDJ-Ahi19sOhXrj9H1w1QWQeMA-vBTZH8fQlsdPVxhQxAeYAqu7fuQBoU_CGb5HY2ZkQw5A3H2s9QlOxmDKL7_3Ph7p4XZ8HcY0YVcmUVCnBQ78DAuywJj8qbaCg/s4032/IMG_1938.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEy4oPYIDzuJpShYr6TJ8TQPa8p22j5uz95MZtQrC7KWZ8RyMbBqyEL3CU73HJhCnDJ-Ahi19sOhXrj9H1w1QWQeMA-vBTZH8fQlsdPVxhQxAeYAqu7fuQBoU_CGb5HY2ZkQw5A3H2s9QlOxmDKL7_3Ph7p4XZ8HcY0YVcmUVCnBQ78DAuywJj8qbaCg/s320/IMG_1938.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7b6f2iTWhQFCgWUzj9mnJrCGiOmCkBH8T4WMNFQc7GKX5ePlM3BYb7clSkffE2bzqDZAY78pRKi4cL3XWzliqCKGuZpxUXeOFSPFw_yYnBgWi3mIG6oUSb3HEaHBEdL_HHBe7FEqWKbwyyd1KiF97oqrrxQFaiw5I3nM2zQMGIlfet9zjeVpeeQiorw/s4032/IMG_1934.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7b6f2iTWhQFCgWUzj9mnJrCGiOmCkBH8T4WMNFQc7GKX5ePlM3BYb7clSkffE2bzqDZAY78pRKi4cL3XWzliqCKGuZpxUXeOFSPFw_yYnBgWi3mIG6oUSb3HEaHBEdL_HHBe7FEqWKbwyyd1KiF97oqrrxQFaiw5I3nM2zQMGIlfet9zjeVpeeQiorw/s320/IMG_1934.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Join me on Wednesday for our final Kentish review. I'd never have believed I'd enjoy a pub more than this one today .... but somehow, I would! But which one? Tune in to find out.</div><div><br /></div><div>Thanks for reading / skimming / looking at the pictures cos you are a simpleton,</div><div><br /></div><div>Si </div><div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-35093896110829312702022-11-06T21:09:00.000+00:002022-11-06T21:09:23.797+00:00BRAPA in ..... LINTON, TRAVEL & TAVERNS (Kenty was Plenty Part 9/11) <p>Linton Corner is a handy pub stop on the fruitful Number 5 bus route south of Maidstone down to Sandhurst, and what a drag it was at rush hour on my penultimate day of mid and north Kent ticking.</p><p>And at Linton Corner itself, it was like Piccadilly Circus. Schoolkids, dirty old men and posh Mumsie ladies with buggies are all taking their chances crossing the road onto the B2163. I cross alongside a chubby schoolboy, using him as a shield to cushion me against any oncoming traffic.</p><p>My next tick may well be listed under 'Linton' but in truth it is closer to Boughton Monchelsea , which was fine cos I had a tick to do there as well.</p><p>Off down an obscure country lane, the pub, or should I say, brewery tap came into view. Of course, they deliberately scared me to death because the first word I see is 'CLOSED'. I mean, you can understand my brief moment of panic can't you? </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZfgCZoMnR5nHRXlPUKPvImenVrkqE_TsynBcVCR-iboiAwtmXi9vUMcRreAnAB8Fng_5AzOrWLYSyPlgI_HMOi5nsrXXybWvYeevEORnWX7I_CwhceBHVRrqA0UyrHjT9z6131cuScRHfnQ1jMerb40Q-_rq0Uh4YPbzM4uOBh1I90SUNzRylRqGBoQ/s3022/IMG_1902.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3015" data-original-width="3022" height="319" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZfgCZoMnR5nHRXlPUKPvImenVrkqE_TsynBcVCR-iboiAwtmXi9vUMcRreAnAB8Fng_5AzOrWLYSyPlgI_HMOi5nsrXXybWvYeevEORnWX7I_CwhceBHVRrqA0UyrHjT9z6131cuScRHfnQ1jMerb40Q-_rq0Uh4YPbzM4uOBh1I90SUNzRylRqGBoQ/s320/IMG_1902.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br />The man at 'Kashmir Kitchen' gives me an lazy expectant nod, a bit like a lion trying to scratch his neck on a cactus, and I enter the bright but lacking in atmosphere <b>Armoury, Linton (2407 / 3971) </b>home of Musket brewery (who love saying stuff like 'must get a Musket'). I'd enjoyed a dark beer by them in Maidstone's Flower Pot the previous day. Hops hang everywhere, the seating is high and flimsy, the ale comes from the barrel, and the staff smile in a way which is both warm but nervous. I go for a standard bitter today, and safe to say I'm not really loving it. The place isn't deserted by any means, but despite the grey chilly air, most people have chosen to sit outside, which in retrospect, I think may've been more enjoyable. One man comes inside to ask if they do dog biscuits, of course they do, but I never saw any signs of a dog on my way in or out. Maybe he was just peckish? Although a trio of staff inject a bit of life into proceedings by chuckling over a word puzzle towards the end of my 27 minute stay, it hasn't been the most memorable experience.<p></p><p><b>Still in the GBG? - </b>Yes, local breweries in awkward locations are well supported by CAMRA, even if they brew swill from a shed out back (not that I'm saying Musket do, but some definitely do!)</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-hzICQDQZiwOq1v7HkYggq9XaABZki0BHxFYXb_MosgK3gRwmCUWiMp4K9pGattQ9keo71tolbKsGhHDxKT-MocIdvbD4GpgnTS43AP9DGycIu51EtAJTAVgGr1IfxzsFXrZ2nLQijAmA2u26G8BAaQikBik8WFm2iVA4jAUSPD3b3LPthz0uHc69w/s3024/IMG_1904.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2942" data-original-width="3024" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie-hzICQDQZiwOq1v7HkYggq9XaABZki0BHxFYXb_MosgK3gRwmCUWiMp4K9pGattQ9keo71tolbKsGhHDxKT-MocIdvbD4GpgnTS43AP9DGycIu51EtAJTAVgGr1IfxzsFXrZ2nLQijAmA2u26G8BAaQikBik8WFm2iVA4jAUSPD3b3LPthz0uHc69w/s320/IMG_1904.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJo_6sAkR_sQqGcNrsX3YFGMrPipTsLYDA5cGfSRoXcLYvX7GtSHmivXA6JOdM0RV4l1hd50T1nX6hKzgQ5LmZ5Rva7sdJT3Ku5ELJLoM4s176m23TZmP5wRGpBAm2Se-shVyWPvv9xHQsBlL4qWPTlY9cP_LmN9oee3L30QkdxBuihgAscGu5HxCH_w/s4032/IMG_1903.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJo_6sAkR_sQqGcNrsX3YFGMrPipTsLYDA5cGfSRoXcLYvX7GtSHmivXA6JOdM0RV4l1hd50T1nX6hKzgQ5LmZ5Rva7sdJT3Ku5ELJLoM4s176m23TZmP5wRGpBAm2Se-shVyWPvv9xHQsBlL4qWPTlY9cP_LmN9oee3L30QkdxBuihgAscGu5HxCH_w/s320/IMG_1903.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUeh0mQ9JGXQkoFN_u1HAMzt4gMZUnDAKMo3RPafwcMJqNASTo_Tyx45iokOzAz4fdBa_LOmAXkqoYKIJuQNqt2niIBQcCeNGWIIE4bzMmwhP-OEisZJ_u_-YZgqFtqqDn0beiKO7ShzzoAhWaqT3wyMBdUwIB07TgDgDFrdE0P_d9_SJyo67C_BKbcw/s4032/IMG_1905.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUeh0mQ9JGXQkoFN_u1HAMzt4gMZUnDAKMo3RPafwcMJqNASTo_Tyx45iokOzAz4fdBa_LOmAXkqoYKIJuQNqt2niIBQcCeNGWIIE4bzMmwhP-OEisZJ_u_-YZgqFtqqDn0beiKO7ShzzoAhWaqT3wyMBdUwIB07TgDgDFrdE0P_d9_SJyo67C_BKbcw/s320/IMG_1905.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Back up on the main road, I continue my walk away from Linton Corner towards Boughton Monchelsea. Of course, the pub had to be situated at the very far end of the sprawling village but despite my desperate need for a wee, I kept the camera fairly steady. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRZTx2dha6BD_LKIyQL6qnFQLK0FOcKR7ecjDAOlKJfoezye1kBOZ3YLIO6vdKlQfZrMjYWD4F76tAPPEn2gTkptIckh2OhpISi4HuISOcBGd4vtlSWZeif5PpNrgKMUcmTKyWy_vATKhMJjloHhf6JPkY5_MczeDzpxn-oEXqOoDbqr-_PJAH9m5eA/s4032/IMG_1907.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpRZTx2dha6BD_LKIyQL6qnFQLK0FOcKR7ecjDAOlKJfoezye1kBOZ3YLIO6vdKlQfZrMjYWD4F76tAPPEn2gTkptIckh2OhpISi4HuISOcBGd4vtlSWZeif5PpNrgKMUcmTKyWy_vATKhMJjloHhf6JPkY5_MczeDzpxn-oEXqOoDbqr-_PJAH9m5eA/s320/IMG_1907.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rqeax56oYFREjSVLck4N8QNMsFawzb1CXKanh8Ltn2wZ6-g7WRsGrxNchChTwkMm30uYfr40FefpqOUb6uqWaeERW6fKBS2XZWypPTp97Wkp4xiKL-ZozupIfozTfoJoIMHne_COTXT5NkiqkJSzIQ0mY_xvgCgODqthnOa4C9xStjEFL32empnWKw/s4032/IMG_1906.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_rqeax56oYFREjSVLck4N8QNMsFawzb1CXKanh8Ltn2wZ6-g7WRsGrxNchChTwkMm30uYfr40FefpqOUb6uqWaeERW6fKBS2XZWypPTp97Wkp4xiKL-ZozupIfozTfoJoIMHne_COTXT5NkiqkJSzIQ0mY_xvgCgODqthnOa4C9xStjEFL32empnWKw/s320/IMG_1906.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><b>Cock Inn, Boughton Monchelsea (2408 / 3972) </b>was one for the pub lovers, even a Kentish one who is sick of Shepherd Neame (which seems to be the case with 90% of Kent folk I speak to). It had a low beamed ceiling, a plentiful carpet, a fruit machine, horse brasses, pillars, loos signposted 'Cockerals' (sic) and 'Hens'. Everyone was jaunty and old school, which matched the surroundings. A new Shep Neame called Summer Storm IPA promised much, but delivered little. As as the jolliest chap had a heartfelt chat with the guv'nor about Sciatica, before downing his pint in five minutes and hobbling off at quite a pace, I hit a wall - not literally, though it was dark enough. A better ticker than me would've got himself back to Linton Corner, back on the number 5, and hopped off at 'Cross-At-Hand' and walked up to the Lord Raglan, but knowing I had a tough seven tick day with a BRAPA debutant, I erred on the side of caution, went outside, rang for a taxi back to Maidstone, and opted for a quiet night back in my Shittingbourne lodgings. </p><p><b>Still in the GBG? - </b>No! Bit sad about that, but the ale never got above average and the local CAMS probably don't need much excuse to ditch an SN pub. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7yXCfbBaNQXU53jgK2TQRuvWRZ-xw4gN8VQe4Wk-kTW_1eO19XVFSiXYgbyza2BkIXQkZtd5tqTLQBydQXEBnIzY1quBDExDIXAxY7U_QzwcXIhzKCxxvVP7lASSSOytCpLpv4kNA6Eq1gxsbdBFHsLRacy1UnHjMRjopDTPkwP1bwl0m9Prpsqsq5A/s3633/IMG_1912.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2529" data-original-width="3633" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7yXCfbBaNQXU53jgK2TQRuvWRZ-xw4gN8VQe4Wk-kTW_1eO19XVFSiXYgbyza2BkIXQkZtd5tqTLQBydQXEBnIzY1quBDExDIXAxY7U_QzwcXIhzKCxxvVP7lASSSOytCpLpv4kNA6Eq1gxsbdBFHsLRacy1UnHjMRjopDTPkwP1bwl0m9Prpsqsq5A/s320/IMG_1912.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8oHw6jUb9Tj7fZror53Xcm0eyR_L27iQUcLHqW6050CrCLS9bAl0wMTy_XBfmeEyZCLhceEdfgyKm48DtfnLBWjCedrQF7gumTJWwICYB-Q_Rkin8aGGh44qcX0x1B_d7dJbHw9D20KGP-j36D4E6YN-MoNOPZWN7vi_26SzoXBZlazyzbaOeEihkA/s4032/IMG_1911.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU8oHw6jUb9Tj7fZror53Xcm0eyR_L27iQUcLHqW6050CrCLS9bAl0wMTy_XBfmeEyZCLhceEdfgyKm48DtfnLBWjCedrQF7gumTJWwICYB-Q_Rkin8aGGh44qcX0x1B_d7dJbHw9D20KGP-j36D4E6YN-MoNOPZWN7vi_26SzoXBZlazyzbaOeEihkA/s320/IMG_1911.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9P3qcZ6wq-5Cl1vugoS2wryBMf3y89OPLHuJFfZNlWBof5Uq9cRikrCQhyEd1IT191okZaGj8ihepowsYHumOHSBNfY-CxqXy406THGE6eKK1VKUiNe6BZYQyKtrmmbK3h664Q71thjTRCDYrij8QCWM8TC3HGHpIUsWRYGU5VZHUXGXy2L7qYb7NA/s4032/IMG_1910.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9P3qcZ6wq-5Cl1vugoS2wryBMf3y89OPLHuJFfZNlWBof5Uq9cRikrCQhyEd1IT191okZaGj8ihepowsYHumOHSBNfY-CxqXy406THGE6eKK1VKUiNe6BZYQyKtrmmbK3h664Q71thjTRCDYrij8QCWM8TC3HGHpIUsWRYGU5VZHUXGXy2L7qYb7NA/s320/IMG_1910.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuNppjSzVuUHYX7iVh93FFGXH7EhIAFUu4kl1JEgzSMhmdjgsdkkbvLPywzu7Ja5HQRkO7v8XaNpVGDDhTDMhKmatdwCaD-eab1wDwBWvbmqXzNA4e9TRUePc3SRYTV_jiFbdACoYqKfRJGjTwLp5jyS85dNJo1CskKj_UkvPiwYdD_32cz6UNzTv6eQ/s4032/IMG_1909.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuNppjSzVuUHYX7iVh93FFGXH7EhIAFUu4kl1JEgzSMhmdjgsdkkbvLPywzu7Ja5HQRkO7v8XaNpVGDDhTDMhKmatdwCaD-eab1wDwBWvbmqXzNA4e9TRUePc3SRYTV_jiFbdACoYqKfRJGjTwLp5jyS85dNJo1CskKj_UkvPiwYdD_32cz6UNzTv6eQ/s320/IMG_1909.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCBQKJfK9nBIXcu4emKI1j7vBceXNMNiT7qXcPU1wUO_iw3a0LKTVwv6n9wirooFhZmuDCy4eks_DvSXN7lF0kyh9NnpVUIgMxZWb8fXJdfC1cbx0_yEPCJqZ6s2KxzjRb9RMIghaCNsNnZaJNkoJsZRarD2GL1OdNwuQ3-GKRJdT5lPXHFPRUoc9nA/s4032/IMG_1908.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCBQKJfK9nBIXcu4emKI1j7vBceXNMNiT7qXcPU1wUO_iw3a0LKTVwv6n9wirooFhZmuDCy4eks_DvSXN7lF0kyh9NnpVUIgMxZWb8fXJdfC1cbx0_yEPCJqZ6s2KxzjRb9RMIghaCNsNnZaJNkoJsZRarD2GL1OdNwuQ3-GKRJdT5lPXHFPRUoc9nA/s320/IMG_1908.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><p>Fast forward 16 hours and I meet our new hero, Richard Pitcher, at Rainham station. He had volunteered to drive me around a few pubs before he gets himself to Derbyshire mid afternoon. So I'm glad we had a rare but remote 11 o'clocker to get us off to the best start possible - Richard had rung ahead to check hours because he is more sensible than me. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgC0R6JcaoELIOSe9gpBX53PLQxXeI0vYAMKBjhAGCS7SOfodDNjIQ36nB8Hlbved8bxKoy8lLlGESV8zrUNsMjkLUQ9A61g9Jv0e5MXT8GcQfKa8qZxyKvCY2WwAb7hTLcwrKLjIfueEZNaoPHAfc514j7blgMjYPYo8xWQAVutN5P0yXWIxcSNpZw/s4032/IMG_1914.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgC0R6JcaoELIOSe9gpBX53PLQxXeI0vYAMKBjhAGCS7SOfodDNjIQ36nB8Hlbved8bxKoy8lLlGESV8zrUNsMjkLUQ9A61g9Jv0e5MXT8GcQfKa8qZxyKvCY2WwAb7hTLcwrKLjIfueEZNaoPHAfc514j7blgMjYPYo8xWQAVutN5P0yXWIxcSNpZw/s320/IMG_1914.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Recent CAMRA award winner, <b>Three Tuns, Lower Halstow (2409 / 3973) </b>has been refurbished in a dining sorta way, but the pub is warm, the barmaid is welcoming, and a pint of mild is exactly what you to start a long 7 or 8 pint day - ESB not included because I've drunk so many, I'm immune to its alcohol content by now. Being called 'Lilac Time' I thought it might have a pinkish tinge, but it was boringly black. A random pile of logs did nothing, a dartboard looked more like a nod to the past rather than something that'd get much usage amidst the old couples with their faces in troughs of cockles, mussels and alive, alive oh's. The carpet helped, it was weirdly undulating and lumpy, like they might've buried the pub sausage dog underneath by mistake. Richard highlights the battered GBG like a season pro, the mild slips down superbly, and it is time for pub two, which I'll tell you about tomorrow. </p><p><b>Still in GBG?</b> Yes, and that's what I like about hearing you're off to a CAMRA pub of the year, 99.9% nailed on inclusion next year/this year.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdfx7Hnt42bwB-uVGyEhCqKP3pDbk97nKCDHYOGbO6Uc7ZlouoBfNekyqmOXTCknJvZi5Bm4kdJmxGsHOu_n7OSEhVOPc5V0K0AcmsAL4QFE73P2OcA37O3MAx8ysySUyyEUjYuHqfM-pXY93cMSGcMK09CS2hJcOuFkU2rlQ8NHZh_Bi_ir40ugPnjg/s4032/IMG_1916.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdfx7Hnt42bwB-uVGyEhCqKP3pDbk97nKCDHYOGbO6Uc7ZlouoBfNekyqmOXTCknJvZi5Bm4kdJmxGsHOu_n7OSEhVOPc5V0K0AcmsAL4QFE73P2OcA37O3MAx8ysySUyyEUjYuHqfM-pXY93cMSGcMK09CS2hJcOuFkU2rlQ8NHZh_Bi_ir40ugPnjg/s320/IMG_1916.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tmYFT8hWgfQ/Y2fqnU87gvI/AAAAAAABU7E/D2ko7uyH97s4v-gWdavjcwcXRPcg-ii8QCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_1919.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tmYFT8hWgfQ/Y2fqnU87gvI/AAAAAAABU7E/D2ko7uyH97s4v-gWdavjcwcXRPcg-ii8QCPcBGAsYHg/s320/IMG_1919.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQZIGGQLLvWBtjQwPRLCWroW50o5AExK9Amx_rpjruQ284oVEo8lGPdCsdssLIY5M9kqBZZ2rOXapD1wCQZBIMfhtd5YEhhvMAybt_fGc7kJo6IV4DgV012mGR8AipRECv3yTTiTa_onHM78G9GFHcrOQQlhH4jf4mdiLnmwct-CLGy6Gu9M3rOtdOg/s4032/IMG_1918.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPQZIGGQLLvWBtjQwPRLCWroW50o5AExK9Amx_rpjruQ284oVEo8lGPdCsdssLIY5M9kqBZZ2rOXapD1wCQZBIMfhtd5YEhhvMAybt_fGc7kJo6IV4DgV012mGR8AipRECv3yTTiTa_onHM78G9GFHcrOQQlhH4jf4mdiLnmwct-CLGy6Gu9M3rOtdOg/s320/IMG_1918.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Tk1iasVsgXl9EQ8qnJrgeEXqbAtvo4pCjBzSnspGjCE412S3OaGNOnpzOUX7Dtw62GWNdkn6ztu6nLEXQK_Xg_mytcKaZJJ4sRznsXEMHSm_JazbXggd4ibxQsVsYAXWxNmv2jhsIURsRv8Ybu1GxC4Xc4MUFDMZf8SS09lvIBAIvspO8CyVBDkpTA/s4032/IMG_1917.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9Tk1iasVsgXl9EQ8qnJrgeEXqbAtvo4pCjBzSnspGjCE412S3OaGNOnpzOUX7Dtw62GWNdkn6ztu6nLEXQK_Xg_mytcKaZJJ4sRznsXEMHSm_JazbXggd4ibxQsVsYAXWxNmv2jhsIURsRv8Ybu1GxC4Xc4MUFDMZf8SS09lvIBAIvspO8CyVBDkpTA/s320/IMG_1917.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Join me same time tomorrow, for the penultimate part of Kenty is Plenty, then we'll get stuck into Gwenty is Plenty, which I might finish by Christmas! </p><p>Si </p><p><br /></p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-63760620061890829612022-11-02T20:50:00.001+00:002022-11-02T20:50:52.654+00:00BRAPA in ..... NEVER MIND THE JORROCKS : Kenty was Plenty Part 8/11<p>Wednesday was to be my penultimate day's ticking of this Kentish holiday. It was unfortunate to cut it short, but I was required in Ilkley on Saturday for the wedding evening do of a Bradford City fan whom I used to work with, and I wanted to be on top form.</p><p>On my final Kent day, a lovely man called Richard had offered to drive me around 'outer Faversham' so today was my last chance to spread my wings and do some crazy mid-Kent nonsense.</p><p>There were a few amendments to the breakfast menu, a weird purple juice had appeared, pomegranate had replaced blueberries, and a Muller light yoghurt came from nowhere. Why not have a fry up? Makes me tired and bloated before I've even started.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcUzYJ9a6RutXfMar78Zg0GiTrzSWbOSefFvqYtzzrCgvmmqM0lT0LxjMFdiNz_wY-COuOe1UJuC5Unnca_RNxRk2ZTV5-xMUFR89d5DDtfzOsMM47FznU5QGbCVqTYPdU5qHGSIiDWKahEyF_g4rq7fOCgbl0-3hVLb1U5Is0T5EMcExGp8VaNfe57A/s4032/IMG_1913.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcUzYJ9a6RutXfMar78Zg0GiTrzSWbOSefFvqYtzzrCgvmmqM0lT0LxjMFdiNz_wY-COuOe1UJuC5Unnca_RNxRk2ZTV5-xMUFR89d5DDtfzOsMM47FznU5QGbCVqTYPdU5qHGSIiDWKahEyF_g4rq7fOCgbl0-3hVLb1U5Is0T5EMcExGp8VaNfe57A/s320/IMG_1913.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>After the well-trodden path to Maidstone, I changed trains for a funny sounding place called Headcorn, but it fitted the local tradition of being a pretty but slightly twee town ruined by much through-traffic. </p><p>From Headcorn, I walk to pub one. A good two mile yomp, one scary bit of roadwalking at the beginning only lasting a few minutes, before it opens into a wide and relatively trouble free, picturesque country lane, although the cars I did see were absolute speed demons.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg-A7CMJ8SMIl_M7VCQ1_pa_DAFW7BZ7n8gSrbU44UbH97eN-B2vcB1B5IKNP7qrW8NxCFO7tH4iJUOCHtXZDqVy9HgN1IT8_ajaXWlufS_zxpbH9rggfZIflzB5p3_mKAb2xKikOppkz7SLlqCE7oUFy48i8VocZicbrba4Z8mvlsckGp9Zz0psKgFg/s4032/IMG_1882.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg-A7CMJ8SMIl_M7VCQ1_pa_DAFW7BZ7n8gSrbU44UbH97eN-B2vcB1B5IKNP7qrW8NxCFO7tH4iJUOCHtXZDqVy9HgN1IT8_ajaXWlufS_zxpbH9rggfZIflzB5p3_mKAb2xKikOppkz7SLlqCE7oUFy48i8VocZicbrba4Z8mvlsckGp9Zz0psKgFg/s320/IMG_1882.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXAnmd-EcdA5up_fGzeYlA0-C-1-Vkqx8jp4ewsS43earLRMn8CJV_OO0JmViCs0xvxPIm3UfvD9bUKDXV2K8bQ5eY7VuI67mzXN1uGfqKZLp2h-n47jjH_wBsvYnSoJ1KZD2oEh4gldASPrA3EPbf8YFveN3hjLASod3aBCQYA0kvVaPzpQ6tEbC5A/s4032/IMG_1883.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieXAnmd-EcdA5up_fGzeYlA0-C-1-Vkqx8jp4ewsS43earLRMn8CJV_OO0JmViCs0xvxPIm3UfvD9bUKDXV2K8bQ5eY7VuI67mzXN1uGfqKZLp2h-n47jjH_wBsvYnSoJ1KZD2oEh4gldASPrA3EPbf8YFveN3hjLASod3aBCQYA0kvVaPzpQ6tEbC5A/s320/IMG_1883.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><p>It was 12:01 when I arrived, so my heart started fluttering when I saw the pub was shut. I start exploring side entrances, and just when I'm starting to panic, 12:04pm, the pub door creaks open and I try not to look too desperate or too relieved. I wish pubs wouldn't scare me! I mean I COULD ring ahead but where's the fun in that?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2Kl1LW1JoXnCtF_xm20eG_ZgGvbK23v7NL33hwtqpycjbZHPzqWhLesBQ6iORKDG1gh0vpkMyrLVQiFMasD7-D9_0MGKVRuZlE6NWLRdrMTVsE7KfU-eUCy9RnPisDZPQaXClrpJnhg3A5U5gIWYw9DrH-SxiDfmUeA0K9Xqg3Jvp6dtamo7S-mXkA/s4032/IMG_1884.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc2Kl1LW1JoXnCtF_xm20eG_ZgGvbK23v7NL33hwtqpycjbZHPzqWhLesBQ6iORKDG1gh0vpkMyrLVQiFMasD7-D9_0MGKVRuZlE6NWLRdrMTVsE7KfU-eUCy9RnPisDZPQaXClrpJnhg3A5U5gIWYw9DrH-SxiDfmUeA0K9Xqg3Jvp6dtamo7S-mXkA/s320/IMG_1884.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-UBuXz37BZpqeaG1Ha2usQqabbdSFuZWdfRW0E33_q9XeUsbYSEtMFmHoWwL7ii-PEH3OmqWxDzGbS8FtauewF1BS5-bTDgUpaqur1Ag5Z2iD_B_t7Cwj8ikKnMfBjxnHAj0i73J09AMH72gHekRjPHKbcUb5nlsum4Uc2JAPLfRvioqlkRDfgU5pg/s4032/IMG_1885.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5-UBuXz37BZpqeaG1Ha2usQqabbdSFuZWdfRW0E33_q9XeUsbYSEtMFmHoWwL7ii-PEH3OmqWxDzGbS8FtauewF1BS5-bTDgUpaqur1Ag5Z2iD_B_t7Cwj8ikKnMfBjxnHAj0i73J09AMH72gHekRjPHKbcUb5nlsum4Uc2JAPLfRvioqlkRDfgU5pg/s320/IMG_1885.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><b>Bell & Jorrocks, Frittenden (2405 / 3969</b> - read it and weep Si!<b>) </b>was one of the strongest Kent pubs I visited this week. Harvey's Sussex Best has, over the years, either been very satisfactory, or left me rushing for the dunny, so always an exciting one to order. Luckily, there were no lowly stirrings today, which was almost a shame because the gents contained one of the prettiest loo seats I've seen in BRAPA history. The landlady sounds Scottish close up, Irish when she's stood further back. Acoustics. We get chatting. She is not only super friendly, but incredibly useful. She recommends me a Headcorn pre-emptive. She gives me a more picturesque route back, which cuts out that scary bit of road walk. And most significantly, she reveals that the other Frittenden GBG entry (actually on the main A229 bus route), The Knoxbridge, where I just avoided getting off a bus on seeing it closed yesterday, is shut long term as they cannot find anyone to run it. This though, is a lovely village pub of some history, but it is great people like her who really make a place special. </p><p><b>Still in the GBG? </b>Of course. I'd be fuming if not (Knoxbridge isn't, so well done local CAMRA).</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihwqNtWW36xaA6xnAgBd-V0H1ojqUoAJeehb1NAxPpPhWLNQYdEIO0hJnAhiP5KDhSE9tyVHZ0VaAnrJv_OePfdglEvRLfYxIRYBpIDzK20f0w260tagN15oHiNt9NLP2QEHFBheST2RJgYpa85rc441YZnE1QDQFO3p45hCLfmcGaTk4nqmIgTY2kug/s4032/IMG_1886.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihwqNtWW36xaA6xnAgBd-V0H1ojqUoAJeehb1NAxPpPhWLNQYdEIO0hJnAhiP5KDhSE9tyVHZ0VaAnrJv_OePfdglEvRLfYxIRYBpIDzK20f0w260tagN15oHiNt9NLP2QEHFBheST2RJgYpa85rc441YZnE1QDQFO3p45hCLfmcGaTk4nqmIgTY2kug/s320/IMG_1886.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvakICnH24gtnccbJZQRqptRJHOKMgZ--TjQeVCXAr4dUdMzq0ojpCOrlLxPLTGMsEHQvyQ50LyRsQP1zfzDHArRAW1RnMIajur6r38pto37BL_Ym5wIXMAVIPpE2i-jCN-YQ1cFNGTS2i6HVCVDJdvsCwSbKxOgGdRqQIY6nlghmIF2u3mpXixzcIQ/s4032/IMG_1887.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicvakICnH24gtnccbJZQRqptRJHOKMgZ--TjQeVCXAr4dUdMzq0ojpCOrlLxPLTGMsEHQvyQ50LyRsQP1zfzDHArRAW1RnMIajur6r38pto37BL_Ym5wIXMAVIPpE2i-jCN-YQ1cFNGTS2i6HVCVDJdvsCwSbKxOgGdRqQIY6nlghmIF2u3mpXixzcIQ/s320/IMG_1887.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlcLyHZ6zNIqNe4vVy7-ztrrcvaW_WEHlgbOcComg-bSiX48WErsUoh9GkgOFmzwBiYfBH6-0HkZnWL7dBh4rM6WU5d-G5iQIm9uiieoQxxdEZBqttj0AtwmfOwEYNi3VMWncBkhTnePifmlnx-5U_6RQbnM5dVE2g1RwQFiHYdO2VZD5E-ekhCMHXOw/s4032/IMG_1888.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlcLyHZ6zNIqNe4vVy7-ztrrcvaW_WEHlgbOcComg-bSiX48WErsUoh9GkgOFmzwBiYfBH6-0HkZnWL7dBh4rM6WU5d-G5iQIm9uiieoQxxdEZBqttj0AtwmfOwEYNi3VMWncBkhTnePifmlnx-5U_6RQbnM5dVE2g1RwQFiHYdO2VZD5E-ekhCMHXOw/s320/IMG_1888.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3ZmWxrVGzTXB-2kJC33ynwWNhT9zESj5BbkYFJUaM62GfjxP0zsyamZ006qNqc8cJEYosR54JOKYFfROy4i5DEK1xfB5onoflgDJ10pB5oMng4qUvTE289feVI2MtT6E6GTWDo8pLFV751p-PYLVijDYtQV1IwS8DyhFRIgMtmncgULu01RX6q-qtw/s4032/IMG_1889.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp3ZmWxrVGzTXB-2kJC33ynwWNhT9zESj5BbkYFJUaM62GfjxP0zsyamZ006qNqc8cJEYosR54JOKYFfROy4i5DEK1xfB5onoflgDJ10pB5oMng4qUvTE289feVI2MtT6E6GTWDo8pLFV751p-PYLVijDYtQV1IwS8DyhFRIgMtmncgULu01RX6q-qtw/s320/IMG_1889.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />The directions she gave me were bob on, I even recognised the description of a couple of sheep .....<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjPxNW5kFyaQhZTcFHgERix-YDaMVEQTtnxLeV6oueQk-BeRktpsK_SZdxvTPsWapkcjxd_HkO01eZLFNmZiixl8Oy-2y2_e_j8mQXtThuRKDLAmYzeV6MZ1oASe9snqEl6boKnO_cmvF8GSzBnXwZfSCkdNFElIVimdOf7b9_MYnOx_3Sgp29BMsag/s4032/IMG_1890.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLjPxNW5kFyaQhZTcFHgERix-YDaMVEQTtnxLeV6oueQk-BeRktpsK_SZdxvTPsWapkcjxd_HkO01eZLFNmZiixl8Oy-2y2_e_j8mQXtThuRKDLAmYzeV6MZ1oASe9snqEl6boKnO_cmvF8GSzBnXwZfSCkdNFElIVimdOf7b9_MYnOx_3Sgp29BMsag/s320/IMG_1890.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I entered Headcorn from behind the churchyard, nodding at a couple of locals as I emerge onto the High Street as if to say 'yes, I know my way around Headcorn lads, what of it?' and find the unassuming little micropub she'd recommended across the road.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWa844wueqxXPaks01X4dvrAUXxeMA-W4pQ3WHlM_apSurSRKslc_G3Mt9oMnvprh41JA-lpfJtjx1yjomEzFtFcrdQxEjFqS3yr0BZ7voeamKu_qffTq_drujyO89p7iH4REGbdYOg2_9G_neXzXfflNIT-YejWa-mBG_PNolk46whlGU5kcAxvNJ9Q/s2386/IMG_1891.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2386" data-original-width="1951" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWa844wueqxXPaks01X4dvrAUXxeMA-W4pQ3WHlM_apSurSRKslc_G3Mt9oMnvprh41JA-lpfJtjx1yjomEzFtFcrdQxEjFqS3yr0BZ7voeamKu_qffTq_drujyO89p7iH4REGbdYOg2_9G_neXzXfflNIT-YejWa-mBG_PNolk46whlGU5kcAxvNJ9Q/s320/IMG_1891.HEIC" width="262" /></a></div><br /><p><b>Tap 17, Headcorn </b>seemed to me like just the kind of place to make a future GBG, well that was until I ask about the cask and I'm told they don't currently have any on. What a shame. For once, I wanted to be the WhatsApp group pub ticker who had a new recommendations to wow my more experienced colleagues! No matter, the two ladies who greet me are fantastic. "Do I detect a Yorkshire accent?" asks the main one. I confirm it might be the case. "I know these things, I'm from Lincolnshire" she replies, a sentence I don't think I've ever heard uttered before. I take some crazy keg offering to the cute little astroturfed garden, with a long mirror so I can admire my drinking technique. I'm drinking well. I eventually return indoors for a half of something else, due to badly timed trains, and we have a lovely chat. Her passion for Boston and the South Lincs Fens is admirable, and I tell her I'll have to stop viewing it has a drab, flat wilderness full of boring pubs and pay it a bit of attention in 2023.</p><p><b>In 2023 GBG? </b> No, but no surprise, considering the lack of cask today , or EVER according to Whatpub! Nice Bacon fries though.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPV4uh2y9Ms6hQyS3kAttGXo3kPlAomn3bMqVjNvfVTi6Vh_Row0FPXjY_BG3JaWOOuzQBykaIKsBQFKDLlV0sZRmSy8n37PotorzSKk4lhcFCmOs3AObIMeaGZP_2RO0JRaA3e-81Z_C1o-p_Wrp4jbZHRY2QB-YVeq5Hl0YuQJmONyS563owT8REg/s4032/IMG_1892.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYPV4uh2y9Ms6hQyS3kAttGXo3kPlAomn3bMqVjNvfVTi6Vh_Row0FPXjY_BG3JaWOOuzQBykaIKsBQFKDLlV0sZRmSy8n37PotorzSKk4lhcFCmOs3AObIMeaGZP_2RO0JRaA3e-81Z_C1o-p_Wrp4jbZHRY2QB-YVeq5Hl0YuQJmONyS563owT8REg/s320/IMG_1892.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3-MsUcpa60NYC-poKnv3ujJ3SS0Ntp9YQH5rvhWxSDqKoYwTk2lla6ujjwq_uWMFbUU2eA_qC7_2Srz5TSVRHXq8t8nJUjudf5LS1vhq9Vi0Awk316nFqPLirYskRrIL9kaHDcB_TFgYEbEtuJEKZC0C6dDldcohN4XWS0AKQdEAHhhtXoRgZduwLg/s4032/IMG_1893.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF3-MsUcpa60NYC-poKnv3ujJ3SS0Ntp9YQH5rvhWxSDqKoYwTk2lla6ujjwq_uWMFbUU2eA_qC7_2Srz5TSVRHXq8t8nJUjudf5LS1vhq9Vi0Awk316nFqPLirYskRrIL9kaHDcB_TFgYEbEtuJEKZC0C6dDldcohN4XWS0AKQdEAHhhtXoRgZduwLg/s320/IMG_1893.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7CeS4QwcP2ukWkm1w0hvRVS3MZsssT0pBhXSqObWCESV-82-h5o-P6XIANtiLjqW2tAAakn8QrveSZRsT_bgjXrpC6oE5SWJ_6EOJrM58ggVvnzM84niALCQ2-kf0aAG-IUHpIHPd_qwDmiCY8gq0WhL4jwA9DQhbffvdd1Qt9rId5HMiDdOM78NdmQ/s3381/IMG_1894.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3381" data-original-width="3023" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7CeS4QwcP2ukWkm1w0hvRVS3MZsssT0pBhXSqObWCESV-82-h5o-P6XIANtiLjqW2tAAakn8QrveSZRsT_bgjXrpC6oE5SWJ_6EOJrM58ggVvnzM84niALCQ2-kf0aAG-IUHpIHPd_qwDmiCY8gq0WhL4jwA9DQhbffvdd1Qt9rId5HMiDdOM78NdmQ/s320/IMG_1894.HEIC" width="286" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1br90HSoQpDkOCIoAlRn0QS6pl1StdWutO0lTkaiq87SU2nWtT8NlDHLnddiHde5oTeq3yaKQAa95rZuSb_igrMnEq7n6geczvKnKiBtR1IQJVj-O1K0ftxwlxkT4sVjIlRv9Eu2_-ptOy49RuvKFzCiYXbaGWPwajvrEXtMmWlm0sDG7rqZU-Ve3Ew/s4032/IMG_1895.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1br90HSoQpDkOCIoAlRn0QS6pl1StdWutO0lTkaiq87SU2nWtT8NlDHLnddiHde5oTeq3yaKQAa95rZuSb_igrMnEq7n6geczvKnKiBtR1IQJVj-O1K0ftxwlxkT4sVjIlRv9Eu2_-ptOy49RuvKFzCiYXbaGWPwajvrEXtMmWlm0sDG7rqZU-Ve3Ew/s320/IMG_1895.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>With Laddingford and Staplehust both closing mid afternoon (the latter, I was warned, may be limited even further due to a poorly landlord), and Marden not opening til 6pm (all of which would make the 2023 GBG by the way) I found myself back in Maidstone for my final tick.</p><p>I'd heard a bit about it, none of it good, but a recent pale green and cream lick of paint suggested that they are trying to make the place appeal to a wider crowd, and not the chavvy hell hole which any sane person would avoid on a Fri or Sat evening (so I'd been told!) I could barely wait.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNd_iVJjbosizex7LPjpVBNkuU3VZrEZvmYU3aA6j0t8m96ELLfA7JlGa_rg1G728n680kVv5uIVfa4iydov4ZovfXCKf_QkHur6sahMQmNL_4AZknEOaNzz0PCqGoaIGPIwkMQTqcnQuh3Nm2jEhWhPyl8hqK7VXVu2hUJ5c2ztEMrK-92_H96XcPQQ/s3541/IMG_1896.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3541" data-original-width="2891" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNd_iVJjbosizex7LPjpVBNkuU3VZrEZvmYU3aA6j0t8m96ELLfA7JlGa_rg1G728n680kVv5uIVfa4iydov4ZovfXCKf_QkHur6sahMQmNL_4AZknEOaNzz0PCqGoaIGPIwkMQTqcnQuh3Nm2jEhWhPyl8hqK7VXVu2hUJ5c2ztEMrK-92_H96XcPQQ/s320/IMG_1896.HEIC" width="261" /></a></div><div><br /></div>I can only presume that the reason for the inclusion of the <b>Stag, Maidstone (2406 / 3970) </b>in the '22 GBG was their one cask ale is a rare one called Reliant Robin by Rockin' Robin, who run the pub. I'm the only customer despite being the GBG pub most central to town, and dance music blares out boom boom boom as the most bored ever looking barmaid, all huge eyelashes, collagen implants and stick on finger nails taps away on her phone. Her mood brightens briefly when two men, who I think are her Dad and boyfriend although I couldn't tell which was which and neither could she, come in for a lager and take the micky out of her. Even they though, end up supping their pints around the corner. At least I've found a nice red leather armchair, and I'm surprised and pleased to find that the ale is lovely full malty thing. In some ways, the pub reminds me of that peculiar one in Thatcham that got in. Getting up to leave wasn't a wrench , more a relief.</div><div><b>Still in GBG? </b>Don't be silly (although Thatcham still is, and you could argue purely on beer quality today, why not?)</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0h00ys52EgmtRvsiAX3vRlzy4FX31BLGatbIyXFp6RreRIiWvfNj6sMtJCpd3D31uuscjLlagR6TrucXLgl-0cP2rF4ypgpZgqo3cVRpMJvy3npvNaQObrebMpzKCghyjQ7StlbMHl-TUKNGi_P5GUZ9P0H9m5pPgG84Jvd0ZgN7njW3yplhqItCPA/s4032/IMG_1901.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA0h00ys52EgmtRvsiAX3vRlzy4FX31BLGatbIyXFp6RreRIiWvfNj6sMtJCpd3D31uuscjLlagR6TrucXLgl-0cP2rF4ypgpZgqo3cVRpMJvy3npvNaQObrebMpzKCghyjQ7StlbMHl-TUKNGi_P5GUZ9P0H9m5pPgG84Jvd0ZgN7njW3yplhqItCPA/s320/IMG_1901.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aSlw-C4-Ub3HrbweuetSOyDRLJvIiYDoGeWdNr3r3cuR3aPsI7zh9gtdv4Ac92wia-COUsKJW7p-nQR4hXFH9v97xRlCSL6jwsoQCo-Vd-vT3XNAAaQRhnbdWTkAhKoz5RwogqLPzUmnAWgHoG6PhdpGmSmXzqFIdReBmQWC3NynVWImwd1Sg3hFMQ/s4032/IMG_1900.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4aSlw-C4-Ub3HrbweuetSOyDRLJvIiYDoGeWdNr3r3cuR3aPsI7zh9gtdv4Ac92wia-COUsKJW7p-nQR4hXFH9v97xRlCSL6jwsoQCo-Vd-vT3XNAAaQRhnbdWTkAhKoz5RwogqLPzUmnAWgHoG6PhdpGmSmXzqFIdReBmQWC3NynVWImwd1Sg3hFMQ/s320/IMG_1900.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgE4tlaNsFpOzLj64W9eoTCqbfDIz8bxKHGhstCvszs88538Xhb-n7TnzNgIH2AoEXxnJcbp9A9UKP_pWdvpOeAibhb4wroPn41KgRe9dbWaHsEqLXTm5XIfnECbiTsNgCL6DMe-MToJsbbDfBy65AWGz4LRfeHsvHJDOFeQoaGxAcjW9rrwPQvRGlwQ/s4032/IMG_1898.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgE4tlaNsFpOzLj64W9eoTCqbfDIz8bxKHGhstCvszs88538Xhb-n7TnzNgIH2AoEXxnJcbp9A9UKP_pWdvpOeAibhb4wroPn41KgRe9dbWaHsEqLXTm5XIfnECbiTsNgCL6DMe-MToJsbbDfBy65AWGz4LRfeHsvHJDOFeQoaGxAcjW9rrwPQvRGlwQ/s320/IMG_1898.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div>Fully greening Maidstone for the first time was the most satisfying moment, but I'll need to come back in the 22/23 season. Time to hop back aboard the number 5 bus and try and get a couple of outliers done before an early night. </div><div><br /></div><div>I'll tell you about them and the start of my final day, on Sunday now (busy week due to pubs and bonfires, the two nicest things) in Part 9.</div><div><br /></div><div>See you then, Si </div><div><br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-40475252875995712272022-10-31T20:28:00.001+00:002022-10-31T20:28:06.316+00:00BRAPA MONTH END REVIEW : OCTOBER 2022<p>Good evening, happy Hallowe'en, Samhain and all that jazz. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2UiE6KBvPK_KcMRaoj1kXhBvjUnCDeOmI9Ah2OMI1Rx7QTOXo3s_zNMaZuYPDfgdeB9zZPabdBvZRqp0I4i241o-_Ug5bdn4uA6fGarnGGEhp-E0cYDYyUIycTLkqZJJ0xKyHBhgq5fFvGu7XLc_Wa4D1uGeiN14-GA9HdgImkf3zZpA_EYASMwom7A/s4032/IMG_2581.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2UiE6KBvPK_KcMRaoj1kXhBvjUnCDeOmI9Ah2OMI1Rx7QTOXo3s_zNMaZuYPDfgdeB9zZPabdBvZRqp0I4i241o-_Ug5bdn4uA6fGarnGGEhp-E0cYDYyUIycTLkqZJJ0xKyHBhgq5fFvGu7XLc_Wa4D1uGeiN14-GA9HdgImkf3zZpA_EYASMwom7A/s320/IMG_2581.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>I might still be reeling from that dodgy GBG churn that we don't like to talk about (the new 'dodgy knee'), but I can report a record <b>66 </b>new ticks for the month, eclipsing the previous record of 61 set in November 2021. Plus <b>7 </b>pre-emptives. <b>3 </b>of which are now in the current GBG. Ooof, anyone got a spare lizard?</p><p>Remember when Rishi got made PM, and reporters shouted "cheer up pal" and his face remained stoic? I feel much the same. Far too much work to do to replenish my numbers and get back up past the 50% mark to indulge in any facial muscle twitching.</p><p>At the time of writing, I've clawed it back to <b>2164 </b>(48.09% completion). <b> </b></p><p>Important to remember why I do BRAPA. Best hobby in the world. Love pubs, love visiting different parts of the country, love not knowing what you are going to encounter when you push/pull open that pub door. And if I must insist on a pint / 27.5 mins a pub in the hope of an 'experience' every single time which you then write about, well I'm not going to make crazy progress am I? You can't have it all in this game. If I live another 25 years, then I think the dream is still alive!</p><p>But with the dawn of a new ticking year comes plentiful Yorkshire options, stuff in Central London not far from Kings Cross and folk taking pity on me offering my lifts between pubs. Gotta focus on the positives!</p><p>So how on earth do you pick a top 5 from 66 to go through into the New Year's Eve BRAPA pub of the year ceremony. I'll give it a go (though to be honest, the standard wasn't fabulous throughout the month, Gwent being the exception). </p><p><b>1. Y Cantreff Inn, Abergavenny</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM494Kb8_x9-KZND6hdokbK1uXe0nIqX-hxo8b7A0-D5515Syr0-fl5c04l41q-MF438OJjj7aECxdsQ9EayWU76OKhjs8VlUrH5zIg4cwTrKxFhRfgw0YFZuCFAvyKYv0LqDQ1uTRraso-0-NiCpv-D3CwRi-EST9CNYDi_tx48HEPVosauVEzaa15w/s4032/IMG_2035.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM494Kb8_x9-KZND6hdokbK1uXe0nIqX-hxo8b7A0-D5515Syr0-fl5c04l41q-MF438OJjj7aECxdsQ9EayWU76OKhjs8VlUrH5zIg4cwTrKxFhRfgw0YFZuCFAvyKYv0LqDQ1uTRraso-0-NiCpv-D3CwRi-EST9CNYDi_tx48HEPVosauVEzaa15w/s320/IMG_2035.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><p><b>2. Wheatsheaf, Llanhennock</b></p><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWr_uf6eEppYcpLW7kaMG7QKhTdhLQhuo5T7Ncd5F_aJ2PMgprgdK4JC_ZEzO1NN9Rqoe2Zw_ztq30eKwtoyNyLie1CbiR9NTaDq0SmUZpWh_lnZHDoNqFLxmD41iBYGBn4ZqtdIZie0LVDfie4reTqrPPgwffrWzephBtNwKtihRM9ZwIcli07oA_Wg/s3396/IMG_2240.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3396" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWr_uf6eEppYcpLW7kaMG7QKhTdhLQhuo5T7Ncd5F_aJ2PMgprgdK4JC_ZEzO1NN9Rqoe2Zw_ztq30eKwtoyNyLie1CbiR9NTaDq0SmUZpWh_lnZHDoNqFLxmD41iBYGBn4ZqtdIZie0LVDfie4reTqrPPgwffrWzephBtNwKtihRM9ZwIcli07oA_Wg/s320/IMG_2240.HEIC" width="285" /></a></div><br /><b>3. Royal Oak, Pencelli</b><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2aEmHIQ_yDzQNcTn2QWiZL__iuYM51GforIXrIKADI5UJrRsYa2urs4OTmcDsWnEacpumajlcIBzVyY50YvW6u0pcuxuV7sE3YUPz7GuF4lUdWS5V6LG_X6fXN5jdH8fnRbvfNx0SYpbXvj0fkNvzoJtfcnxeaSmS0C14yXeIEQb8Xx3Nci-nkZwFJA/s4032/IMG_2281.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2aEmHIQ_yDzQNcTn2QWiZL__iuYM51GforIXrIKADI5UJrRsYa2urs4OTmcDsWnEacpumajlcIBzVyY50YvW6u0pcuxuV7sE3YUPz7GuF4lUdWS5V6LG_X6fXN5jdH8fnRbvfNx0SYpbXvj0fkNvzoJtfcnxeaSmS0C14yXeIEQb8Xx3Nci-nkZwFJA/s320/IMG_2281.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b><br />4. Questors Grapevine Bar, Ealing</b><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyQe4EQA9rcL-ypOhJJWIErGatkftbVqO66QTYsh60NSUb0zKDqeogepEotktVP542cq5dD1nUdgR0LH0jIAjmKdjVieT082hpmeenGksRC-blpkYfzwpKu2n5X3Jr1ZBuX77knx9IKYihfwpTY15_0RK3S1IJR-KpMm-SY5izQwvAL8cVRaqb4n7QEQ/s3488/IMG_2325.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3488" data-original-width="2655" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyQe4EQA9rcL-ypOhJJWIErGatkftbVqO66QTYsh60NSUb0zKDqeogepEotktVP542cq5dD1nUdgR0LH0jIAjmKdjVieT082hpmeenGksRC-blpkYfzwpKu2n5X3Jr1ZBuX77knx9IKYihfwpTY15_0RK3S1IJR-KpMm-SY5izQwvAL8cVRaqb4n7QEQ/s320/IMG_2325.HEIC" width="244" /></a></div><br /><b>5. Anchor, Sevenoaks</b><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXwpiURPE0V5DR9B2dsn7bmbOWC7NGURNaskcHVg9tMSuJoyuOpJN74-RBO7zsqORqD3tQebcQOnMDnmQ_14GN1AUWQwPERKQNPMcMoWWjVP9FbzOHczajsD1jXJLa4Enf-3gCWYiUQIRq_1KU0y7JAVcl4BTUjPe89H36OQV2titunzjKCQ5MxRX5g/s4032/IMG_2560.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpXwpiURPE0V5DR9B2dsn7bmbOWC7NGURNaskcHVg9tMSuJoyuOpJN74-RBO7zsqORqD3tQebcQOnMDnmQ_14GN1AUWQwPERKQNPMcMoWWjVP9FbzOHczajsD1jXJLa4Enf-3gCWYiUQIRq_1KU0y7JAVcl4BTUjPe89H36OQV2titunzjKCQ5MxRX5g/s320/IMG_2560.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />Plenty of honourable mentions too. Especially the <b>Greedy Pig </b>in <b>Eccleshill</b> near Bradford, who had closed not long after 8pm on Wednesday due to no customers, but agreed to let me in for a pint when I begged at the window! <p></p><p>George IV in Sawbridgeworth, McGlynn's at St Pancras, Goose & Cuckoo at Upper Llanover, Kentish Belle Bexleyheath, Kirkstall Brewery Tap, Owl & Pussycat West Ealing, Boat Inn Penallt, Foxhunter at Nant-y-Derry , Beaufort in Raglan, Bridge Inn Llanfoist and Queen's Head Cmwyoy all were a cut above as well.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEja38dUbCQp4grJoRgd8JIHIkABOwAUjdKOcqgfV-HiHGjW0IN5jE48pn7WDgFQzAtW3_9H0vOeSLQ-vzgtVHItXRdgNTuVUtKGy745fD46XzEXMdYB8WwXauhx0Hs4PS0Bhqnnq1zSdSNZ-X-BxScWzGS-ooLzF8QYivHUKvh9jeULTeArSiOIccsQ/s3021/IMG_2206.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2825" data-original-width="3021" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEja38dUbCQp4grJoRgd8JIHIkABOwAUjdKOcqgfV-HiHGjW0IN5jE48pn7WDgFQzAtW3_9H0vOeSLQ-vzgtVHItXRdgNTuVUtKGy745fD46XzEXMdYB8WwXauhx0Hs4PS0Bhqnnq1zSdSNZ-X-BxScWzGS-ooLzF8QYivHUKvh9jeULTeArSiOIccsQ/s320/IMG_2206.HEIC" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Foxhunter Inn, Nant-y-Derry</td></tr></tbody></table><p>Dishonourable mention for the Westbury at Wood Green/Turnpike Lane, for being one of the most abominable pubs I've visited all year, but it is still in the 2023 GBG so there is that! Goose & Cuckoo isn't. Just as a means of demonstrating it really is a 'Guide' and not an absolute definitive best 4500 ale outlets in the land.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE4zTNk0qOHlzXVEf0PaSoKDrHl9sFgjgGMYOyaB8jZcNglMPDndA9ZPBaz8oc5h8xhQAcfUTNwYHE7uAxoxnrEs4v6r_iah68q64y7rCfexn-pVIgnDMXCFt2-i5WIokqGX2koesl1iVNnVq18APp_cJah3YhyGGI1SeOKJ99n38q1r3S5E2b-1ChA/s4032/IMG_2438.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitE4zTNk0qOHlzXVEf0PaSoKDrHl9sFgjgGMYOyaB8jZcNglMPDndA9ZPBaz8oc5h8xhQAcfUTNwYHE7uAxoxnrEs4v6r_iah68q64y7rCfexn-pVIgnDMXCFt2-i5WIokqGX2koesl1iVNnVq18APp_cJah3YhyGGI1SeOKJ99n38q1r3S5E2b-1ChA/s320/IMG_2438.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p><b>Mascot Watch </b>- Colin is having his quarterly wash, but whilst he smells lovely, he'll never be whiter than white again. But we won't ditch him, don't worry! Oscar the Owl has been doing some heavy lifting of late, shame he's Snowy and not Tawny but never mind. And Naughty Little Cousin Pumpy has been enjoying his favourite time of year. Alex the Apple is on the transfer list, Pedro the Plum is lacking match fitness, too much porter. Brekkie the Sheep is recovering from a twisted trotter.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxtYtOvnW5RI-ydDwwrGvwE_ukHr-IWE2ZfheeWI7mo4z5a8upr1rC_rBqqThUgqA0grTN_W6wrRQmsHbtQZpKWn4RCGtSFmIcjhiEd14oU23XCYcTDi7fC0ivZFZ1f_hbK-nN9w02A7NT7YswEVsOU4J4nMGC9_-lY_PynPQ8YztDiXj2mF4ezdgIfg/s4032/IMG_2516.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxtYtOvnW5RI-ydDwwrGvwE_ukHr-IWE2ZfheeWI7mo4z5a8upr1rC_rBqqThUgqA0grTN_W6wrRQmsHbtQZpKWn4RCGtSFmIcjhiEd14oU23XCYcTDi7fC0ivZFZ1f_hbK-nN9w02A7NT7YswEVsOU4J4nMGC9_-lY_PynPQ8YztDiXj2mF4ezdgIfg/s320/IMG_2516.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oscar on his way to Oakworth</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b>November Plan - </b>Lancashire and South Yorkshire are my Thursday focus areas. I'm tantalisingly close to West Yorkshire completion (one pub, we only want one pub) but we have to wait for a chap to become available who wants to meet me there. Train strikes are blighting me yet again (5th, 7th and 9th so far, I suspect 19th will be too looking at trains) , but Daddy BRAPA is on hand to be a be a chauffeuring hero. I'll be hoping for more Kentish and London progress, and the month ends with my final holiday of the year, in a county where I only have 4 ticks, so that'll be exciting!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qVACYeVlhSOserDC6NuGOZe6TsUwEzcXW_64Yn_hwZAahAPt0f_KgeD78hmL02eMidQaRY2cm_MxFXGXM4I8SjHWL_p9LnDXg6Dtf56hs2-J8kDKp7GCK69doSYdF8I8lrTQF-XGWhwKx5EpdgOjMC7al8YWgIVA4-3EdLxo7OId-NDJyu5yMYKQvA/s3088/IMG_2385.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5qVACYeVlhSOserDC6NuGOZe6TsUwEzcXW_64Yn_hwZAahAPt0f_KgeD78hmL02eMidQaRY2cm_MxFXGXM4I8SjHWL_p9LnDXg6Dtf56hs2-J8kDKp7GCK69doSYdF8I8lrTQF-XGWhwKx5EpdgOjMC7al8YWgIVA4-3EdLxo7OId-NDJyu5yMYKQvA/s320/IMG_2385.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Could Daddy B hold the key to November glory?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Have a nice November, and keep visiting the pubs (if you want, I mean I can't force you).</p><p>Si</p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p> </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-73548873411867740912022-10-30T21:01:00.002+00:002022-10-30T21:01:12.842+00:00BRAPA in .... AN APPALLING MAULING IN MALLING IS MY CALLING : Kenty was Plenty Part 7/11 <p>As I dart through the mean streets of Maidstone with #PubWoman and BRAPA debutant, Pauline Sharp in tow, she comments on my fast walking pace. I try to slow down but fail. When any GBG tick is on the horizon, it is the most exciting thing in the world, you have to admit.</p><p>Olde Thirsty Pig had impressed me, just as Cellars Alehouse and Rifle Volunteer had a couple of days before. Maidstone might be a bit of a shithole, but it has some damn good pubs.</p><p>And it probably helps that the town that it isn't too inward looking. It is happy to slate its rivals. Some might call that a case of 'the pot calling the kettle black' but some of the nicknames it gives its neighbours is fascinating.</p><p>Shittingbourne, Gashford, Shitstable, BenDover, Chaversham, Cunterbury, Herpes Bay, Twatham, Crotchester, Gizzingham, Poood, Ramshate, Margaylord, Queerness, Jolkestone. They couldn't think of anything for Rainham so just call it Bollockface. #BRAPAFact</p><p>Pub four was found at the end of a surprisingly attractive street littered with cute terraced houses, standing alone whilst all manner of horrible high rise stuff springs up around it, leaving you fearing for its long term future. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4T-CQHc3LWHlLXTr02jDKMo36PrhO908h6iVpu3Hl4UlPaOkZW0mBCiYQVWlvQimOuF9iDwbCiDQf__e4ips1eE_zVFe5UeVKeCsYL5PW2InHahO44n80ylGaNcaS_qB_-qSH8qUw1GwMHtfp-uzUK0Rwv0w7Yb3ckdZzm1ZlhYrqNiAto7kWbVZNnw/s4032/IMG_1864.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4T-CQHc3LWHlLXTr02jDKMo36PrhO908h6iVpu3Hl4UlPaOkZW0mBCiYQVWlvQimOuF9iDwbCiDQf__e4ips1eE_zVFe5UeVKeCsYL5PW2InHahO44n80ylGaNcaS_qB_-qSH8qUw1GwMHtfp-uzUK0Rwv0w7Yb3ckdZzm1ZlhYrqNiAto7kWbVZNnw/s320/IMG_1864.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There she is!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b>Flower Pot, Maidstone (2402 / 3966 - ah, those were the days!) </b>was a reassuringly basic boozer in the same ilk as the Rifle Volunteers, though this evening at least, it never conjured up the same magic, despite some green walls, a pool table and some pretty windows. I'm in a dark beer mood, Pauline kindly buys, and the friendly guv'nor tells me that the Musket Powder Burn 'evokes earthy sweet aromas of times gone by'. I think he's read that somewhere. He asks my thoughts on it as I return from the loo, I tell him that I'd have to conclude that it evokes earthy sweet aromas of times gone by. Pauline, ably assisted by Col, gets her debut Stabilo'ing done, and after some amiable chatter, I can tell that she's pining for her tea and home, so I try to force down the porter I'm conscious I've been nursing a little too long due to its earthy sweet evocation. Passed me by a bit this pub, but if I lived here, I'd return regularly. <b>Still in the GBG? Yes, I'd have been shocked otherwise.</b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTVY13R_0BYsFVnFT93Ox6_FiNygR4Q7jKbWqA07fbuaNA12lRDFFBBSs_4JnY2a_XpZTakrhcsb1RB9AlCtUrh2VFYGslfZ8ohWayuVRKAjviLQMKneWgPDA2iC30dbkMiJPDOT5wE2nkn5ln_5f--l37oNAwJkOWXNReGK_rYwTlLgSRuWmmfkP3g/s4032/IMG_1869.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihTVY13R_0BYsFVnFT93Ox6_FiNygR4Q7jKbWqA07fbuaNA12lRDFFBBSs_4JnY2a_XpZTakrhcsb1RB9AlCtUrh2VFYGslfZ8ohWayuVRKAjviLQMKneWgPDA2iC30dbkMiJPDOT5wE2nkn5ln_5f--l37oNAwJkOWXNReGK_rYwTlLgSRuWmmfkP3g/s320/IMG_1869.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2yhcTAqErPC1NBLidVPBDcYY7gaTfe7uJ9HI2qQesoSRbYGagqEoV2RuuNyuEVglpaK3MHFWnMz-0h4gJFMytu6abCMYogSSPYB5rM9cBaXnHWSs5tcLu4DSzQipAoQG2vSEnCau85T5maY8jvtju3xwO5gN13uZSnABNV862HEawJFBaQWuyxy7jiA/s4032/IMG_1867.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2yhcTAqErPC1NBLidVPBDcYY7gaTfe7uJ9HI2qQesoSRbYGagqEoV2RuuNyuEVglpaK3MHFWnMz-0h4gJFMytu6abCMYogSSPYB5rM9cBaXnHWSs5tcLu4DSzQipAoQG2vSEnCau85T5maY8jvtju3xwO5gN13uZSnABNV862HEawJFBaQWuyxy7jiA/s320/IMG_1867.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaj0m7brl_64AMIczJyZxCM6gxQf7bBeKGPzVA1e9Ouf5Q-k0zaWNuElv_N2k38a19hqJ7saxdKwJpTBDM5xG3NKKlMWwdsRa4swxn0J5pZdgL1ZOF2lTTAHSgmP4akLxAPa2ui4tKfc8AjLUIpHTyF9ARWS01_V0wD4hIUg6nReytaSxLL6CFkWg7Q/s3348/IMG_1866.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3348" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizaj0m7brl_64AMIczJyZxCM6gxQf7bBeKGPzVA1e9Ouf5Q-k0zaWNuElv_N2k38a19hqJ7saxdKwJpTBDM5xG3NKKlMWwdsRa4swxn0J5pZdgL1ZOF2lTTAHSgmP4akLxAPa2ui4tKfc8AjLUIpHTyF9ARWS01_V0wD4hIUg6nReytaSxLL6CFkWg7Q/s320/IMG_1866.HEIC" width="289" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkU8StwXpK5UClOt58Mm7bb6wjQ2V2CaHf2SjyVByQIrDmYJu6h3zsm9Exycxj_j8OQBxMsC5yY2iQ0R3qDgcFOYnTVNqImqn7lLbiiT3zbGH-W-5GZi4OE9bTDM9eorSIGjCahbnqgmrcghvvmer_By2vvywDbmiL9DVPKAXWIpJFrKzUglvLclF5DA/s4032/IMG_1868.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkU8StwXpK5UClOt58Mm7bb6wjQ2V2CaHf2SjyVByQIrDmYJu6h3zsm9Exycxj_j8OQBxMsC5yY2iQ0R3qDgcFOYnTVNqImqn7lLbiiT3zbGH-W-5GZi4OE9bTDM9eorSIGjCahbnqgmrcghvvmer_By2vvywDbmiL9DVPKAXWIpJFrKzUglvLclF5DA/s320/IMG_1868.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>Pauline helps me find Maidstone West, her side of town, with a bit of local commentary en route, but my day isn't done yet. It has been one of those frustrating stop/start types, and I need to work hard to salvage my six tick quota so get myself off to West Malling, where two GBG entries are waiting. </p><p>Autumn is really approaching now, it is suddenly pitch black, and with not another soul in sight, it is all a bit eerie. The station is a bit of a walk from the town which I'd failed to realise. At least the train announcement helped me realise that 'Malling' is pronounced 'Mauling' like wot Tigers do very infrequently. </p><p>I tackle the micro first, hidden down a narrow alley like something off Jack the Ripper .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Q7hEIOpBCK3EfG4A9p4BUNrCVy_na3YFTWCj9bie4_LjjXK8NDPBLejtTfPG9qsZtLN7C1GoEEQTeCftvIDaVWxKQzAdcB-1kil1KDaWqoyckroAZ8D5E5lUJueQyd5oSsDZq6zFd_PXULCRodX-p7HqkFClresG8vHE40QOprxPBpiejrOyJS2chg/s4032/IMG_1870.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_Q7hEIOpBCK3EfG4A9p4BUNrCVy_na3YFTWCj9bie4_LjjXK8NDPBLejtTfPG9qsZtLN7C1GoEEQTeCftvIDaVWxKQzAdcB-1kil1KDaWqoyckroAZ8D5E5lUJueQyd5oSsDZq6zFd_PXULCRodX-p7HqkFClresG8vHE40QOprxPBpiejrOyJS2chg/s320/IMG_1870.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>The smell of paint is the first thing that hits me at <b>Malling Jug, West Malling (2403 / 3967), </b>the weakest micropub I'd go to all week. I don't know how new it is, presumably not 'that' new if it has made the GBG, so perhaps it has had a recent touch up. The front door is open, and the cold night air is blowing in, quite gusty out there now. Perhaps this was to stop the paint smell being overwhelming? But it doesn't help a pub already low on comfort. The place is wooden and a horrid shape, so despite only one well-fed group of three middle agers being present, seating options are hard to come by. I perch by the draughty door. Thankfully, they know how to keep a great pint, and a Salopian I've not seen before is always a delight. The young barman is nice too, shame our Salopian appreciation exchange hadn't taken place a bit sooner, for I'd have lingered for a chat, to bolster the chances of a more positive pub experience, but I needed to scoot. If ever a pub had left me cold, both literally and metaphorically, it was here. <b>Still in the GBG? Yes, no real surprise. Great pint, CAMRA love a Micro and this isn't the strongest part of Kent for pubs.</b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1cnAMZfMNxSqDHD0d2PKC5DekuZPrCxX6_U3Vb-G2rmYUrzJIfMZFIFEgREoLjKVghMeVJn6z7UdiQn-Mg1csNAXlgjQSui3Uqx-Efq7OduZYH9cgQrEd8L-zOHD2DxXX2BOdB-wJGd_u4Q-4pJi2MgcbP_G6asBwORGkNT9zQpyKvC5kRaTL3b_VIQ/s4032/IMG_1871.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1cnAMZfMNxSqDHD0d2PKC5DekuZPrCxX6_U3Vb-G2rmYUrzJIfMZFIFEgREoLjKVghMeVJn6z7UdiQn-Mg1csNAXlgjQSui3Uqx-Efq7OduZYH9cgQrEd8L-zOHD2DxXX2BOdB-wJGd_u4Q-4pJi2MgcbP_G6asBwORGkNT9zQpyKvC5kRaTL3b_VIQ/s320/IMG_1871.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju164vi-vzljG3UPezqnkh5tnLd6Y4oqIAuFytzasEd7w6GTekTEyqBfwBZguwgX8Ys2ZkGv4FEV6MmGRSKbYWPZnzJFOSpWDpCTOkxA13_j64MKeyr9AUkUCsjudPD2invu3qdQd82lZmAHmCBVmfg0DatO5fu-fIYRzuwINme7Sqo8cyCBujAKhQvg/s4032/IMG_1872.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju164vi-vzljG3UPezqnkh5tnLd6Y4oqIAuFytzasEd7w6GTekTEyqBfwBZguwgX8Ys2ZkGv4FEV6MmGRSKbYWPZnzJFOSpWDpCTOkxA13_j64MKeyr9AUkUCsjudPD2invu3qdQd82lZmAHmCBVmfg0DatO5fu-fIYRzuwINme7Sqo8cyCBujAKhQvg/s320/IMG_1872.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgG9ZhNEkZw_IAWpKkFAjyanJCmft9xs1QlGODFlLlS-0HmwFuzqTIF6nMUqNVSNkU1P8Mxa7twfc_16x8l4LNa4x8CjrSuAmlfeIuXUf2JKiVB--KGgmnqvghmDZCoYu0RDlX-gVLxoNab9xKZSMNCvAV1P3ZtDAixIkS2fetmJKpB7HR_D6p4tDj-g/s4032/IMG_1873.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgG9ZhNEkZw_IAWpKkFAjyanJCmft9xs1QlGODFlLlS-0HmwFuzqTIF6nMUqNVSNkU1P8Mxa7twfc_16x8l4LNa4x8CjrSuAmlfeIuXUf2JKiVB--KGgmnqvghmDZCoYu0RDlX-gVLxoNab9xKZSMNCvAV1P3ZtDAixIkS2fetmJKpB7HR_D6p4tDj-g/s320/IMG_1873.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VXDrTUv7zOJOIeHE5ORd4agDgYltBTj-B65TpaWkN5IcdrTDQj2vXls2h5nWz6E3qDBofiVPleGnhFv-vysfgJTVfh8IWJqTJUfdgUVQhgNUaM6XwhCz6sZFyhKfeqBkltQJ8aTvfndUlZHbIJ-et4RFaltguYhNB0NNvnIMZ7WyPk6vyVEeQzBFzw/s1024/IMG_1875.JPG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="794" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8VXDrTUv7zOJOIeHE5ORd4agDgYltBTj-B65TpaWkN5IcdrTDQj2vXls2h5nWz6E3qDBofiVPleGnhFv-vysfgJTVfh8IWJqTJUfdgUVQhgNUaM6XwhCz6sZFyhKfeqBkltQJ8aTvfndUlZHbIJ-et4RFaltguYhNB0NNvnIMZ7WyPk6vyVEeQzBFzw/s320/IMG_1875.JPG" width="248" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wNBLlHMuGTb426reyZmhXm5-40JB7y9G8R_AdAZYxUQX50j0cjXwzioSIYh0gDqp2y1rFtWCWjYawK8vYUCaqwnJ658J7-xxwz8y83QmdoX6IzRDJvgzDxv_iN8a7lMDRx9lHelcVbQJqpr737_yTAPvQ2-_d0rijSu_OUu4BopBlxTlBg5_MNzhIw/s4032/IMG_1876.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wNBLlHMuGTb426reyZmhXm5-40JB7y9G8R_AdAZYxUQX50j0cjXwzioSIYh0gDqp2y1rFtWCWjYawK8vYUCaqwnJ658J7-xxwz8y83QmdoX6IzRDJvgzDxv_iN8a7lMDRx9lHelcVbQJqpr737_yTAPvQ2-_d0rijSu_OUu4BopBlxTlBg5_MNzhIw/s320/IMG_1876.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>And scoot I'm glad I did, because it was becoming alarmingly evident that I'd serious miscalculated the time I needed to walk, have a pint and walk again to catch the final connection to Sittingbourne. </p><p>Not sure if that is connected to my oversight re. the outdoor photo for the next pub, I just took this instead, and we'd need to consult FormerSi to explain why because CurrentSi can't. Was I considering applying?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcs2InR0X1uNZp2llYQ1hB1aO8OdvHYNO7JbDqZfjYITCYhKd6N61YGZ88iS6nUaNnZq87n4aNikihmuZ-Pc93SuqS3pU8B_r2ez4YWR0pNAneEi_vXlWtdCEqyy1GuFUgFgaNiNm5GVxnch9YTF2GV1mDXB_4AQYhOwevx8c0FFUpeu5qliYPkxmrw/s2681/IMG_1877.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2681" data-original-width="2350" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEcs2InR0X1uNZp2llYQ1hB1aO8OdvHYNO7JbDqZfjYITCYhKd6N61YGZ88iS6nUaNnZq87n4aNikihmuZ-Pc93SuqS3pU8B_r2ez4YWR0pNAneEi_vXlWtdCEqyy1GuFUgFgaNiNm5GVxnch9YTF2GV1mDXB_4AQYhOwevx8c0FFUpeu5qliYPkxmrw/s320/IMG_1877.HEIC" width="280" /></a></div><br /><p><b>Bull Inn, West Malling (2404 / 3968) </b>is the name, and if I was expecting something a lot more sturdy, pubby and dependable than the Jug, I'm afraid to say that I was left disappointed again. I breeze in with my usual chirpy demeanour, but the landlord and locals seem a gloomy bunch. West Malling wasn't doing very well by me. Have you ever been to West Malling? Was I unlucky, or were you left wanting more too? Again, beer is the saviour, Pale Ale Mary by Northdown, chosen because there is a tiger on the pump clip, grarrrrr. I sit on a high stool because this makes up about 90% of the seating in what was probably once a cosy, traditional pub. A large group of late night cyclists are chatting, saggy lycra bulging where it shouldn't. They are animated but detached from reality, a bit like the trio in the Jug. I wonder if West Malling considers itself posh? Another calculation of my timings leads me to the conclusion I have about 12 minutes left to drink my pint. Ooops, good job it slips down easily and the pub isn't one for getting settled in. I return my glass with a flourish, and it probably is my imagination (well, I'm 99% sure it is) but for a split second, I thought the landlord eyed me with a certain reverence. <b>Still in the GBG? Yes! Making it a 'zero churn' episode. Hurrah. </b> </p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqcfpzeqU8PdqjfhHBbDYwRcUFxj1jKEV4es1j1aDQk-gjYxt2t-KZCD7NoVMy6ZR38rNi73032IG5nQPFb4O0VxvuWHi9dHRRi5yz0clRYqZ_M2q8BLB88iVq7oto9eiPieYTwpNVw0YlGwRst9SprGsopRYfJP1wAZTMh2UP-SFsax62nqomGHXiJA/s3024/IMG_1879.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2812" data-original-width="3024" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqcfpzeqU8PdqjfhHBbDYwRcUFxj1jKEV4es1j1aDQk-gjYxt2t-KZCD7NoVMy6ZR38rNi73032IG5nQPFb4O0VxvuWHi9dHRRi5yz0clRYqZ_M2q8BLB88iVq7oto9eiPieYTwpNVw0YlGwRst9SprGsopRYfJP1wAZTMh2UP-SFsax62nqomGHXiJA/s320/IMG_1879.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieTcYv828UCIBjqbO5mlwDlLrxn-_thZ_Iq6RimJTfByuxFi4UCNTxv3tLs65MYP4OCt6djw5ygsR5xAH9Mq4mY6jhrU9wZgRKT_xfYnd6vCM5mq4st_9VBKfJjnFmxXvYTkCP5NQcNL0mA6vCCb8IrwwR-Eh4eUyKpHboNG4kA_Ep5IEE4h2Op1BO6g/s4032/IMG_1880.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieTcYv828UCIBjqbO5mlwDlLrxn-_thZ_Iq6RimJTfByuxFi4UCNTxv3tLs65MYP4OCt6djw5ygsR5xAH9Mq4mY6jhrU9wZgRKT_xfYnd6vCM5mq4st_9VBKfJjnFmxXvYTkCP5NQcNL0mA6vCCb8IrwwR-Eh4eUyKpHboNG4kA_Ep5IEE4h2Op1BO6g/s320/IMG_1880.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59oSwULq1z8lzHLFlLLeggKwLzigdG5_RZPcwTRtpLMiuHfMKi7OFJG1JRBmVCSlM8aG05IQjV5z3Z5G7BccxkpEZkZLvSfHaCWBbNG8ERoOKFvK59x4Rj8p2pPMv-gAC6XkW0yQ-XEnv-U-XhfihvMFdDl8jIXi-qiodi3yQyOLGphzs3PnhJJw3mw/s4032/IMG_1881.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi59oSwULq1z8lzHLFlLLeggKwLzigdG5_RZPcwTRtpLMiuHfMKi7OFJG1JRBmVCSlM8aG05IQjV5z3Z5G7BccxkpEZkZLvSfHaCWBbNG8ERoOKFvK59x4Rj8p2pPMv-gAC6XkW0yQ-XEnv-U-XhfihvMFdDl8jIXi-qiodi3yQyOLGphzs3PnhJJw3mw/s320/IMG_1881.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>As I dash for the train, I now notice it is two minutes delayed. I know it sounds unlikely, but that takes quite a bit of the pressure off! Every second counts, as Paul Daniels once said. </p><p>I manage by hook or by crook (I don't mean I changed at North Hants or County Durham) to get myself back to Sittingbourne, and just like yesterday, I marvel at the fact that I took six ticks from what had been a really trying day.</p><p>Si </p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-37195212268061900102022-10-27T10:05:00.001+01:002022-10-28T16:04:11.107+01:00BRAPA in .... HAPPY NEW (GOOD BEER GUIDE) YEAR : TOUGH CHURN / PRE-EMPTIVES COME GOOD<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhO4obbgd9gdNr8zVMV8LF8AgfzeWt0T7Xlb3e3acLpP0ExhBYEfjHXetUCbffmEhyQUtmSrBQW77pJ7UkqCrYkyuhnFNnXr5s-tOF0Fay4UX8W5v7nAjAKR_rte_69861ik_ECvbW6H0CRQ55cJfH-tzv4i9PLiAFSisBzcr467ckB4saaINvPHsluw/s4032/IMG_2461.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhO4obbgd9gdNr8zVMV8LF8AgfzeWt0T7Xlb3e3acLpP0ExhBYEfjHXetUCbffmEhyQUtmSrBQW77pJ7UkqCrYkyuhnFNnXr5s-tOF0Fay4UX8W5v7nAjAKR_rte_69861ik_ECvbW6H0CRQ55cJfH-tzv4i9PLiAFSisBzcr467ckB4saaINvPHsluw/s320/IMG_2461.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Another one back on the shelf.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>Good morning and happy new Good Beer Guide year!</p><p>The cross-ticking is complete and I've just got one word for you ..... OUCH.</p><p><b><u>The Damage</u></b></p><p><b>312 </b>pubs lost, bringing me down to <b>2152 </b>(47.82% GBG completion). A 12.7% loss isn't unprecedented, but it still stings. Colin (currently having his quarterly wash) has already sent me a "sorry for your loss" card. </p><p>To put it into context, my 'original' <b>2,152nd</b> tick was achieved in Binfield (Victoria Arms) in Berkshire on 3rd April. That is nearly 7 months of pubbing to make up.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitvwnF3ZT_04VLFFBW_ihEcbm8dMrWnprcz2bEMAsarFae82RmIjgFOJ-xeRe89OyJ_HUsA5A5UbFFWr8766fVpQRuPCrircRYojWFUwgtrbcqHffpRyf5eCaceL0zqASU6b6oKIFt5eklTQCKFC9uUlaaeoT2ea0wKvNwHERJaJ7BYbS6mk1y61QpRA/s980/IMG_2513.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="980" data-original-width="743" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitvwnF3ZT_04VLFFBW_ihEcbm8dMrWnprcz2bEMAsarFae82RmIjgFOJ-xeRe89OyJ_HUsA5A5UbFFWr8766fVpQRuPCrircRYojWFUwgtrbcqHffpRyf5eCaceL0zqASU6b6oKIFt5eklTQCKFC9uUlaaeoT2ea0wKvNwHERJaJ7BYbS6mk1y61QpRA/s320/IMG_2513.PNG" width="243" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At least this one is still in the new GBG</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>I completed the cross-tick on Monday evening, so I've had time, as the football twitter kids say, to 'give my head a jolly old wobble', 'dust worself down' and 'go again'. </p><p>Good job I do it for the love of pubs, eh (he says through gritted teeth!) </p><p><b><u>Churn and the Reasons Why</u></b></p><p>'More churn than a giant dairy', as one fellow pub ticker with a dreadful love of puns, put it. Truth is, we were spoilt last year with the minimal Covid induced churn. I lost 150 or something ridiculous. I remember even joking that last year's GBG was just the 2021 edition with a different front cover. </p><p>It seems those lockdown shackles are now off, the CAMRA branches feel liberated, have released their inner minx, and spread their wings.</p><p>27 down in North Yorkshire and Hants, 26 in Greater Manchester, whilst London has been beastly.</p><p>The 'kind' counties this year are Essex, South Yorkshire, Staffordshire, Berkshire and Cambridgeshire. Well done them. I'll reward you by generally leaving you alone (apart from SY).</p><p>It is unusual churn too. Sour Cherry Kefir or something. The big 2015-18 churns were a result of micropubs popping up for the first time in every town. But what I'm noticing this time is a lot of older pubs that haven't been in the GBG since long before the advent of BRAPA.</p><p>I've been waiting for the Goat & Tricycle in Bournemouth to appear since my 2004 visit. Loved it. Accidentally chatted up a married lady. Armoury in Shrewsbury was done in 2005 on a holiday with my mate John where we accidentally stayed a few nights in a gay boutique. Plymouth has popped in loads of stuff I did drunkenly in the mid noughties like Admiral MacBride, Providence and Lounge when Stuart Elliot and Dean Windass were knocking the goals in. </p><p>So really, the cross-tick could've been even worse!</p><p><b><u>The Vague Plan</u></b></p><p>So let the world's booziest game of Snakes n Ladders recommence today. It is Thirsty Thursday after all. </p><p>Filling in the Yorkshire gaps should be a nice morale boosting start. I want to get Lancashire fully green after failing last year. HOW many more trips to Preston? What did I do in a former life to deserve this? Then I'm going to start looking at Notts/Leics. That's my more 'local' plan for the year. </p><p>Saturday's will still be Kent/London based for the foreseeable future, both WILL be fully green by Oct 2023, of that I can guarantee, but I'll do a 'strategy' update in the early New Year cos it's tradition.</p><p>My gross tally has risen to <b>4057 </b>at the time of writing. That has been helped by a record number of pre-emptives come good (usually about 10, but 19 I've counted this year). So we'll end this blog with the roll of honour for those who helped make it happen. And a few pics. You like pics don't you? </p><p>Keep it pub, Si </p><p><b>Pre-Emptives Come Good</b></p><p><u style="font-weight: bold;">1. Magnet, Colchester </u>- So new, it smelt of paint and looked like something off a Dulux advert. A man on a bike acted very oddly. I didn't like it til a funny bloke started chatting to me about homelessness in Glasgow or something. Thanks to the Colchester Twitter person who recommended it, sorry I can't remember your name but you get a point.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCYE3VqII_7ijbd2xJnh08TeYEBFr1fote72Hn82d6RehZ5LDeZT0On9M9CMZXQjxUbz3IDUHiAMviUswjHjiG80MkKmzO-_NabqHVCTkIALeHpLVZtgScYRAVOFY_EUOw4-e9L9XpnTB8dE8ruEWnbIHG4upNeAGdFdEnZbBvJlQk8AuPEOHklOc8Q/s958/IMG_2466.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="958" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpCYE3VqII_7ijbd2xJnh08TeYEBFr1fote72Hn82d6RehZ5LDeZT0On9M9CMZXQjxUbz3IDUHiAMviUswjHjiG80MkKmzO-_NabqHVCTkIALeHpLVZtgScYRAVOFY_EUOw4-e9L9XpnTB8dE8ruEWnbIHG4upNeAGdFdEnZbBvJlQk8AuPEOHklOc8Q/s320/IMG_2466.PNG" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I wonder if it has a more 'lived in' feel yet?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><u style="font-weight: bold;">2. Woodman, Bishopthorpe - </u>Ah, accidental pre emptives are the best! I'm awarding a point to Humphrey Smith for this one. I was on a walk with work mate Karl back in April, I wanted to show him the beautiful Sam Smith's Ebor pub even though he only drinks Smirnoff Ice, but it was unexpectedly shut (like what happens with so many S.S. pubs at the moment), so I chose this because it was next door and the only one in the village I hadn't done. Wasn't expecting much, but the quality on that Ossett White Rat is up there with the best pints I'd had all year. Then I started seeing local CAMRA meetings being held here, and I thought 'ey up, that was actually a pre-emptive'.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKM5p1jq2UQEckmNK5mZHUzKUNHwkW87_HFDJsKS8A3YI2w9OQ-88j6VF4UxA5aA8VGm2HaeHiBanjbaQTrRI6ReIXuUxeogofsg6kmC4q73HK0gwpYXLi6e16X1ESMXXfmUZBf3zdwZbpTG9-RD8bZVJgDfaNTRmMPOwcyeDABVeuVmoy-xfyza1Vw/s983/IMG_2467.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="983" data-original-width="741" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioKM5p1jq2UQEckmNK5mZHUzKUNHwkW87_HFDJsKS8A3YI2w9OQ-88j6VF4UxA5aA8VGm2HaeHiBanjbaQTrRI6ReIXuUxeogofsg6kmC4q73HK0gwpYXLi6e16X1ESMXXfmUZBf3zdwZbpTG9-RD8bZVJgDfaNTRmMPOwcyeDABVeuVmoy-xfyza1Vw/s320/IMG_2467.PNG" width="241" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Accepting a point on Humph's behalf who sadly couldn't be with us today</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><u style="font-weight: bold;">3. Craft Bar, Scarborough - </u>Think I Whatpub'd Scabby options when I knew I'd have time before a train. Still, I sounded out the locals in the Welfare Club, who said it was definitely worth a crack. And even though the barmaid was incompetence personified and no one had cleaned a glass for the past 7 hours, it had that 'future GBG' feel about it. </p><p>Giving myself a point for my obvious genius and forward fashion look.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUkSLaA49oop2AlsoDuIsCebcDmLwlFm6PKqGilPRCDBWlFuYeMJWkpZFVVXb2NZokZhB8GRzM8lMs8GtzaXjEXX_nmvPDQAGAZTb5WeZj0HhT8K7zpU1rwBAfi1l04wysLrh_PQf8Ukc8IOpEvR76-_u0ht2GhjubL5AF_nn6o_9Fra_EjKQlcPvBPw/s871/IMG_2468.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="871" data-original-width="689" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUkSLaA49oop2AlsoDuIsCebcDmLwlFm6PKqGilPRCDBWlFuYeMJWkpZFVVXb2NZokZhB8GRzM8lMs8GtzaXjEXX_nmvPDQAGAZTb5WeZj0HhT8K7zpU1rwBAfi1l04wysLrh_PQf8Ukc8IOpEvR76-_u0ht2GhjubL5AF_nn6o_9Fra_EjKQlcPvBPw/s320/IMG_2468.PNG" width="253" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you spot the ghost?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b><u>4. Travellers Rest, Meltham</u> - </b>Fellow pub ticker Jim Brunt gets a point here. He'd heard a whisper, and gave us a clue on Whatsapp that a pub in the Huddersfield area was in the GBG for the first time since 1974. And being a saddo, I worked out he meant this one! Jim then drove me and Eddie F on a dark wintry Feb night, I even took my 1974 GBG but the general consensus was that highlighting it green would be wrong, even though my copy isn't a 'plague edition'.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6_-L2c_XrNNUnIck3OSRoxeU_YiTpSgfxHPgC2wL_8PFh2Cmf6_122D1uc9UGBd_Gsj7bY2daM9VX3DUjB0RPlrwLcXpWuv9wHv0zRTUd4sjq8YzPsUz-e5t4NalwqOQBaQfTCtXBWrhw0mDXdueUEjgI5UX7w6qDDM01hgJ6QwmD6nhsCVluCFQXA/s946/IMG_2469.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="946" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV6_-L2c_XrNNUnIck3OSRoxeU_YiTpSgfxHPgC2wL_8PFh2Cmf6_122D1uc9UGBd_Gsj7bY2daM9VX3DUjB0RPlrwLcXpWuv9wHv0zRTUd4sjq8YzPsUz-e5t4NalwqOQBaQfTCtXBWrhw0mDXdueUEjgI5UX7w6qDDM01hgJ6QwmD6nhsCVluCFQXA/s320/IMG_2469.PNG" width="254" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Low key candidate for best loo sign of the year</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><u style="font-weight: bold;">5. Prop Ur Baa, Ossett - </u>And it is Eddie Fogden himself who gets a point here, I was well impressed, a stark contrast from Jolly Tap in Wakefield (and horrid pub in Horbury I was staying!) Heaving, funny, crazy drunk locals, there'd been some town beer festival to mark the Platty Joobz celebrations. I even stayed for another and nearly missed the cake cutting at Eddie's wedding, which would've been his fault for recommending me it the previous January, if indeed, me being present for cake cutting would've made any difference to anything, which obviously it didn't.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtdyAYLeemw-IJe8JsXIHtBQwLf19uFfv3ZlaKptRBi8A16WYaBWnvbny-LLsRJKdsBtECDafiWC5P0cXgWOrhhvJXvApkwI6NP8ahX8q7iTgYnyQLHy965B3joJQSNQ0EYvkFquMPjRq0CwTk5LsYm3aQYQqyMsJsf_jievtND5OVkShN9YCbwIIJA/s948/IMG_2483.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="948" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgtdyAYLeemw-IJe8JsXIHtBQwLf19uFfv3ZlaKptRBi8A16WYaBWnvbny-LLsRJKdsBtECDafiWC5P0cXgWOrhhvJXvApkwI6NP8ahX8q7iTgYnyQLHy965B3joJQSNQ0EYvkFquMPjRq0CwTk5LsYm3aQYQqyMsJsf_jievtND5OVkShN9YCbwIIJA/s320/IMG_2483.PNG" width="253" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making new friends in the Prop</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><u style="font-weight: bold;">6. Dog Inn, Belthorn - </u>My mate Ian S. of Blackburn and beermat collecting fame gets the plaudits for this. I'd seen it in GBG's before, I even got locked out at 10pm one night when they shut early. Felt as much a village shop as pub with postcards, jelly snakes & tins of beans n stuff. Lacked something 'pubby', but the beer was perhaps the best of eight I had on this day and as so often in this part of Lancs, the people were spot on. A small girl was going around cleaning the tables, citing 'child labour'. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkyUmweMuUbRyzxyMscXTp1xaSggI8dwaLoVtOL3TFuPz0TyHMAlGg6B9FqcjbPurP6WKbuTQ72AxG46FPsfMTb1L4Ns64NtWapm5TrmCeYQgrfOjE2RzZPEfv2aIwuFNVuqz7RBl4V1Pm_rDUOYxif0_NrDlDh3MoXAwzEEv5iS3u_rTWQP9iDBSqZA/s1003/IMG_2470.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1003" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkyUmweMuUbRyzxyMscXTp1xaSggI8dwaLoVtOL3TFuPz0TyHMAlGg6B9FqcjbPurP6WKbuTQ72AxG46FPsfMTb1L4Ns64NtWapm5TrmCeYQgrfOjE2RzZPEfv2aIwuFNVuqz7RBl4V1Pm_rDUOYxif0_NrDlDh3MoXAwzEEv5iS3u_rTWQP9iDBSqZA/s320/IMG_2470.PNG" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ian looks like a man who knows he's just got a point in the pre-emptive league table</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><u style="font-weight: bold;">7. Cask & Tap, Blackpool - </u>Oh Blackpool Jane, a bit like Ian Ashbee, she's neither here nor there she is everywhere, recommending me this absolute quality micro mid Rebellion punk festival, and bagging herself a point. And I met fellow punk and pub ticker Ian/Alfie here too. So impressed was I, I took Daddy BRAPA the other week and he liked it too. Staff are incredibly switched on. Like Admiral Lord Rodney, Criggion levels, but that is an obscure Mid Wales 2016 pub reference. Everyone will chat to you here too cos West Lancs is like that.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62cZTdJabJgVXWh5nzc_S_-lE-HQC4Lxi6y9icoCFaz0OtY5icTV7AO_LhrPOb0QfuJhPBgcAg84iQPhIN7abUZi2WE5YL0OPQ_IofnWM1Sdt6B96aM3y92Hp_-GYzmH3ZJjKVY5nidySEzSyn304x45WTardeJH9uwFf7Anv859TsE0q3zDTTzIO-Q/s862/IMG_2472.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="862" data-original-width="647" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg62cZTdJabJgVXWh5nzc_S_-lE-HQC4Lxi6y9icoCFaz0OtY5icTV7AO_LhrPOb0QfuJhPBgcAg84iQPhIN7abUZi2WE5YL0OPQ_IofnWM1Sdt6B96aM3y92Hp_-GYzmH3ZJjKVY5nidySEzSyn304x45WTardeJH9uwFf7Anv859TsE0q3zDTTzIO-Q/s320/IMG_2472.PNG" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oooh looks busy, let's blame the punks</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><u style="font-weight: bold;">8. Thirsty? Alehouse, Blackpool - </u>Felt much less nailed on than C&T, but again Blackpool Jane gets the plaudits, moving her top of the pre-emptive league, with her second point. Peculiar, a quite unfriendly barman despite our best chirpy efforts. 'Themed' rooms don't really translate. Fabulous cuckoo clock in the 'Swiss/Alps/Euro' room was the highlight, and got us away from an angry ill punk woman from Batley and her naughty L**ds fan probable brother. Still, the stout I had was excellent.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQye0P9ecaKMqOXzaGEW_0BwIj3Zbs6HitaNyAEIIZBnbuhJGyFAiq3O6c9gOAUXQ1iwXTZHJIhnmTDUhEcVYWE53IZVNU_ublKqCQ0_5Bukqbdu2Xuzo87Dlnr5fdq11Edxum3l3msp1Kqaj9Z4ZzZhXPrPdVnpIr-5Wp91JrT3mDKZ6InHrJLJms3Q/s996/IMG_2473.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="996" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQye0P9ecaKMqOXzaGEW_0BwIj3Zbs6HitaNyAEIIZBnbuhJGyFAiq3O6c9gOAUXQ1iwXTZHJIhnmTDUhEcVYWE53IZVNU_ublKqCQ0_5Bukqbdu2Xuzo87Dlnr5fdq11Edxum3l3msp1Kqaj9Z4ZzZhXPrPdVnpIr-5Wp91JrT3mDKZ6InHrJLJms3Q/s320/IMG_2473.PNG" width="241" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before the Batley/Lds invasion</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b><u>9. King George V, Brompton</u></b></p><p>Thanks to the landlord of Rainham's excellent Prince of Ales for the heads up on this. Walked across a park in Gillingham to get there. It was a cracking old pub but the ales Daddy BRAPA and I ordered (different ones) were well below par. Dad took his back and got something drinkable but tepid. The lady was nice and apologised for our 'bad experience' but no pump clips were turned around at any stage, and the locals didn't care cos they were all on the fizz. Still, delighted it is in the GBG if it means I don't have to go back to Gillingham, although sort of ironically, there's a new one in Rainham!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34xsHw3iv1qCfkbAeKQx3t_d5ss_wAPmjEpECymlRorDEeIpEkJX7wTy0UBidvKIwOO4dLDTsxEJ2aiZhp5ZNWhVrCqrZZDQpCAGPAxLRxChEsvIIPQqeTo6XV4XNhwv6f0Qgrcs798sYuxakaRF681HdiUWl0FFmE6kdiH5Zx6oTh08_qBC1XwBbNA/s891/IMG_2474.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="891" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg34xsHw3iv1qCfkbAeKQx3t_d5ss_wAPmjEpECymlRorDEeIpEkJX7wTy0UBidvKIwOO4dLDTsxEJ2aiZhp5ZNWhVrCqrZZDQpCAGPAxLRxChEsvIIPQqeTo6XV4XNhwv6f0Qgrcs798sYuxakaRF681HdiUWl0FFmE6kdiH5Zx6oTh08_qBC1XwBbNA/s320/IMG_2474.PNG" width="269" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy B. won't be smiling once he's tried that beer</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><u style="font-weight: bold;">10. </u><u><b>Bell & Crown, Canterbury</b></u></p><p>A point for Maidstone's finest, Pauline Sharp. They're sharing the points around today the #PubMen and #PubWomen aren't they? It was all a bit 'hopeful' when, on seeing Thomas Tallis closed and having time to kill before the New Inn opened on that tricky Queen funeral bank holiday, I saw this pub was on a list of Canterbury pubs she'd enjoyed recently. It was close to the bit of street I was hovering in. So I went, the beer was solid, it felt about 40% pubby, I thought "it's actually got a chance of inclusion" and guess what, it did!</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIcJiL_2BfzX9GVrNqup8TbbZZlcOhHIxK4h03zFKCDOPg8LB_w_kjLNjwJxYZ3DV0bLgL-jQYzff3NQJA44Xjv_EJaFVHUO3RuyguRs_DcwzRvEdgImM7Io8ZUVVAoW3kz_QEp7svQcI0oxsbUW6J_iqdp4x7EJdt9FSaRGnxYgbC6hLMy088bWvwA/s919/IMG_2475.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="919" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIcJiL_2BfzX9GVrNqup8TbbZZlcOhHIxK4h03zFKCDOPg8LB_w_kjLNjwJxYZ3DV0bLgL-jQYzff3NQJA44Xjv_EJaFVHUO3RuyguRs_DcwzRvEdgImM7Io8ZUVVAoW3kz_QEp7svQcI0oxsbUW6J_iqdp4x7EJdt9FSaRGnxYgbC6hLMy088bWvwA/s320/IMG_2475.PNG" width="261" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Forgot about the almost face-sitters - John Bell and Jim Crown (maybe)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b><u>11. Pot Kiln, Frilsham</u></b></p><p>The lovely Tim Thomas of all things West Berkshire CAMRA helped me celebrate BRAPA's 8th birthday by driving me out to this small, hidden away rural gem. The road felt like it was going to run out, and we'd fall into the abyss, or Wiltshire as it is sometimes known. #TeamWestBerkshire. The Indigenous brews were good, staff welcoming, and this lovely man in a suit who Tim knew was actually helping compile the GBG entry as we spoke, and if that's not a sign of a nailed on pre-emptive, I don't know what is! </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4aXsvcyvDnB0BN6sQuDdCSXiBeh1oOEQmpvr5U8MU479147F5lQnFD2OdVZagjko-aBhIJ5omeU4ujF9yVMDwONVorOOtawaLp_bvdPBBFr8GQrawRgoOr5WM03AoRjPfPCXlcbyP2JeoZmExw7P97BZL-8wCgRg7aRDH0uapKPt_d1PGYKYCg6dh_Q/s750/IMG_2476.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="553" data-original-width="750" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4aXsvcyvDnB0BN6sQuDdCSXiBeh1oOEQmpvr5U8MU479147F5lQnFD2OdVZagjko-aBhIJ5omeU4ujF9yVMDwONVorOOtawaLp_bvdPBBFr8GQrawRgoOr5WM03AoRjPfPCXlcbyP2JeoZmExw7P97BZL-8wCgRg7aRDH0uapKPt_d1PGYKYCg6dh_Q/s320/IMG_2476.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating BRAPA's 8th birthday in style</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b><u>12. Bowler's Arms, Wash Common, Newbury</u></b></p><p>Tim joins Jane on two points (tight at the top!) with a second genius recommendation, not too far from his home. A recently refurbed cricket club, so a glorious setting, and although you beer experts might not think the range was exciting, the quality on that Tim Taylor Landlord was like being up in peak Keighley. Colin made a new friend, and that was that.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJNyM76UnF4nvcdDFYfQhJdprm5hQ8dNLd_CzSFQLk4BO61JqhEhvWCdgDa6lKIqOuEthcaosVzoCeSJ6PuWc0uMXN9bRYhhcLFr33aEm6L6phWacKYQFbZpwB4HWIq1RwmSyZvcba7ZUoDXCWB22Tff3OuJqfO1HUp5yfzXJBVuMaEVvOkHFvc8uWQ/s801/IMG_2465.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="801" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeJNyM76UnF4nvcdDFYfQhJdprm5hQ8dNLd_CzSFQLk4BO61JqhEhvWCdgDa6lKIqOuEthcaosVzoCeSJ6PuWc0uMXN9bRYhhcLFr33aEm6L6phWacKYQFbZpwB4HWIq1RwmSyZvcba7ZUoDXCWB22Tff3OuJqfO1HUp5yfzXJBVuMaEVvOkHFvc8uWQ/s320/IMG_2465.PNG" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p><b><u>13. Station Hotel, Abergavenny </u></b></p><p>I'm going to give TheWickingMan a point here. I'd seen this pub in previous GBGs, I was staying in Abergavenny which I thought was a beautiful town, so the pub was in my thoughts, then a few locals recommended it in another great pub, Y Cantreff, but seeing it on the Bass spreadsheet was the final push I needed, as I like reporting back on the Bass. Gorgeous pub, and this particular Bass was the best of quite a few I had on my Gwent holiday. I'd have rioted if it hadn't made the 2023 edition.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESLCPIX5vSzvGxj6KBljz1bbhkjeO9SP9uV-tTKPzVKqF6dojsNqMxb2jdtZ5uVE1k9z4ylzm7HfV5gOFYhGRF4EsCh1uxJYkgcXgxO79zQ7ZixSpndlRFEd-Zt5saZpQfUy38QS_krTDgHEH2U_QHPD7VB2CmtcFqZtwYH9zsw5mIxZM7MR9_oJ4tg/s834/IMG_2477.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="834" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiESLCPIX5vSzvGxj6KBljz1bbhkjeO9SP9uV-tTKPzVKqF6dojsNqMxb2jdtZ5uVE1k9z4ylzm7HfV5gOFYhGRF4EsCh1uxJYkgcXgxO79zQ7ZixSpndlRFEd-Zt5saZpQfUy38QS_krTDgHEH2U_QHPD7VB2CmtcFqZtwYH9zsw5mIxZM7MR9_oJ4tg/s320/IMG_2477.PNG" width="288" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Low bench or short body?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b><u>14, John Wallace Linton, Newport</u></b></p><p>Another totally accidental tick, basically I needed a wee (as I so often do late on, or early on, or silly mid on) and had 40 mins til my next train, so popped around the corner to this handy 'Spoons, the first Welsh 'Spoons I read, but a few locals came on my Twitter and told me in stern Welsh terms that I was wrong. The quality on the Bristol ale was so good, it made me do a double take like 'wow!', having had a dreadful pint in the Cwmbran 'Spoons the night before. I still had no expectations for it making the GBG, especially as another local 'Spoons is in, so this was a nice surprise. I won't give myself a point though as it involved very little skill on my part and I'm beautifully modest.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWxqWMxR0RLwKqZr7PdsUtyvzzUa9AhCggzWZEhmbt_SOA0w-7WjF3k9i6uyrJiLV7pWS7siig1E2zg2UEYZABKcuiHPryNkK2XfZwxxeRBtBrVKoFhC84OnS7P_J8GGYWREzxdrXNpcMo1qFGX_mw8TT_FKgiVcbS1_kMTyqvfzsBQfNxxNjipZz0g/s952/IMG_2478.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="952" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEWxqWMxR0RLwKqZr7PdsUtyvzzUa9AhCggzWZEhmbt_SOA0w-7WjF3k9i6uyrJiLV7pWS7siig1E2zg2UEYZABKcuiHPryNkK2XfZwxxeRBtBrVKoFhC84OnS7P_J8GGYWREzxdrXNpcMo1qFGX_mw8TT_FKgiVcbS1_kMTyqvfzsBQfNxxNjipZz0g/s320/IMG_2478.PNG" width="252" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And 'Spoons carpet of the year contender</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b><u>15. Weird Dad Brewery Tap, Newport</u></b></p><p>A point for both the guv'nor of Newport's micropub of limited hours, the Cellar Door, and for Twitter legend Rhys Wynne who had given me the heads up on this earlier in the week.. Mr Cellar Door bonded with me when we both saw each other singing along to Fun Lovin Criminals (I prefer Fine Young Cannibals but he doesn't need to know that). He thought my plan to go out to Chepstow at this time of day was a bit outlandish, so recommended this, and I deferred to his better judgement, and when I found a well kept Yorkshire Heart beer amongst their own crafty offerings, I thought 'yes, this might have half a chance'. And it had more than half a chance, it had a full one.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioP6WkdYe45rNkwxF60tFGTUab6WvOCkFiuYIIMqIE85-0XaZbsixq694LVCIDd2qu9amBrMBpR9hm6OXRuTFnZAR0U5T7WhACZ1TaL6BuBdQ5fg-MlPH7bNOPMDrnRfSYOneUHAQ9KnhNZatvbG4vEpnNc5jlC5jt0cs1Slhp7bAuEgrr1adxugnzZQ/s992/IMG_2479.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="992" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioP6WkdYe45rNkwxF60tFGTUab6WvOCkFiuYIIMqIE85-0XaZbsixq694LVCIDd2qu9amBrMBpR9hm6OXRuTFnZAR0U5T7WhACZ1TaL6BuBdQ5fg-MlPH7bNOPMDrnRfSYOneUHAQ9KnhNZatvbG4vEpnNc5jlC5jt0cs1Slhp7bAuEgrr1adxugnzZQ/s320/IMG_2479.PNG" width="242" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Also contained second smallest loo of the BRAPA year. I like the sink cistern set up.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b><u>16. Nursery, Stockport</u></b></p><p>I'd heard a few Twitter murmurings months before but ultimately, Pub Curmudgeon gets the point as he said he'd meet me here which gave me the final push to keep my discipline and actually do it, along with Daddy BRAPA and Tom Irvin, towards the end of a long hot day of GMR ticking. I liked my Hyde's, and the pub in general seemed a good solid multi-roomer despite some obvious modernisations. A couple of comments afterwards gave me reason to believe it might not be the 'nailed on' entry I'd hoped, so was relieved and pleased to see it had made it.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3HsXyX2LAOQ6mZZIsDqmMtCqL-PbkbmSbFeMp97ZwhbWY4DBTXWA6R0cqz0P0xKM691ZwgBdLPc3E4vrZ4djOZyiGvPdqExaBXyTviQTI3GsYivpamws27Z15OwYjjXgXihNtxHagfn_i89CotcuCPrsPRTaJO4Cfu2FFrv-GePC4pUTnro_8e9tIQ/s969/IMG_2480.PNG" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="969" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl3HsXyX2LAOQ6mZZIsDqmMtCqL-PbkbmSbFeMp97ZwhbWY4DBTXWA6R0cqz0P0xKM691ZwgBdLPc3E4vrZ4djOZyiGvPdqExaBXyTviQTI3GsYivpamws27Z15OwYjjXgXihNtxHagfn_i89CotcuCPrsPRTaJO4Cfu2FFrv-GePC4pUTnro_8e9tIQ/s320/IMG_2480.PNG" width="248" /></a></div><p><b><u>17. Nelthorpe Arms, South Ferriby</u></b></p><p>We're going back to 1st Feb 2020, or 'the day I met Duncan' as it is most commonly known, but this North Lincs entry, recommended by our Hull City friend Christine Andrew who was having a big birthday do later on took its sweet time in making the GBG, but we got there in the end. I liked it, very good pint, Blind Sooty always a good sign, kid in Hull City top, a weird Dad (not the Newport place) and some fascinating photos from the war we didn't understand. Will this be the pub that lights the blue touch paper on a first concerted Lincs push in the 2022/23? </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheyOxxjckiGTXsa4lo4eqZk1uhEujYIGvZ5U3jdSQVuH11Rwnz4eFHrmkGdaVqqtITnbLSlgTlhGfAjCTuDIj4KUH97kIe6waVTuHlBdzR6QnFHpWDEI6o3_k10-S2MIrwRrsL4HvNufYA34XPeqP_NdHfEaYJst0sa5px40SbSwCi75C-Xkrft_aaDQ/s895/IMG_2481.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="895" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheyOxxjckiGTXsa4lo4eqZk1uhEujYIGvZ5U3jdSQVuH11Rwnz4eFHrmkGdaVqqtITnbLSlgTlhGfAjCTuDIj4KUH97kIe6waVTuHlBdzR6QnFHpWDEI6o3_k10-S2MIrwRrsL4HvNufYA34XPeqP_NdHfEaYJst0sa5px40SbSwCi75C-Xkrft_aaDQ/s320/IMG_2481.PNG" width="268" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The moment a Dad of crazy Hull City kids gets prodded in the side by a ghost</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p><b><u>18. Shrewsbury Hotel, Shrewsbury</u></b></p><p>And if you thought that was tardy, I've been waiting for this giant 'Spoons to make the GBG since 28/6/14 , one of my earliest BRAPA away days before I caught a bus to Baschurch, just killing time. Didn't recognise it as a 'pre-emptive' til years later cos I hadn't come up with the term then. Every 'Spoons is pre-emptive, well apart from the Last Plantagenet in Leicester and the Gate Clock Greenwich, and this did nothing wrong on my visit so a nice bonus tick to get. I won't give myself a point though cos it was a total fluke and I don't deserve to win.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1R_YyA94w5Shw9phIc6kPH_HV0pNh_3rfK9Chh0N86n1cRILnZuymrxC24RRx0SWTMBeMkzE5b1hRas7xdj1kK24ELiKstVNIqDFf7zwE4I_Nd37JSNcuQTBPAXNdp0aPODXj7CmUPkOKS27ph_I4As1Jm3Yw3oWq5mQczgaQekgXJ1QpU0kswFj_CA/s750/IMG_2484.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="473" data-original-width="750" height="202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1R_YyA94w5Shw9phIc6kPH_HV0pNh_3rfK9Chh0N86n1cRILnZuymrxC24RRx0SWTMBeMkzE5b1hRas7xdj1kK24ELiKstVNIqDFf7zwE4I_Nd37JSNcuQTBPAXNdp0aPODXj7CmUPkOKS27ph_I4As1Jm3Yw3oWq5mQczgaQekgXJ1QpU0kswFj_CA/w320-h202/IMG_2484.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not my pic cos it is actually good so thanks to Spoons website. I didn't do photos as much in 2014.</td></tr></tbody></table><p><br /></p><p><u style="font-weight: bold;">19. </u><u><b>Paper Mill Inn, Whitehough</b></u></p><p>Another historic tick I've been waiting to get in since 2018. It was one of our summer days out with Tom and his parents, and we'd gone around the Hope Valley, eventually crossing into Derbyshire. Chinley was the nearby station. We'd done the GBG regular Old Hall Inn where I'd got into an argument with the staff about indoor seating limitations /dining. It was summer, so we sat outside, I was finally calming down when a few of us noticed this pub over some greenery in the background. "Would be rude not to" I remember us saying, feeling Daddy BRAPA and Tom's Dad Chris might've been the main instigators. But not enough for any point awarding. It was decent, a bit like the Old Hall but with more pizza and a less green outdoor area.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjb53T8i6FNV6aGiUoqPCtA8pJeysd_qrspmVxeaJ-4HeVpJKkRjpmu4W9XgcXw640UlalryXDyLbtlEvk6SyA4wQD2tj7ErhTAlKu4vXA0hHVZ2DULYTXokELCgHT77ZgMApgj2tFtclAqCqC6oiBJhGR3YWtNnLFTg8LXxGSc9VKONjwsIaf7-s1Uw/s825/IMG_2482.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="825" data-original-width="704" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjb53T8i6FNV6aGiUoqPCtA8pJeysd_qrspmVxeaJ-4HeVpJKkRjpmu4W9XgcXw640UlalryXDyLbtlEvk6SyA4wQD2tj7ErhTAlKu4vXA0hHVZ2DULYTXokELCgHT77ZgMApgj2tFtclAqCqC6oiBJhGR3YWtNnLFTg8LXxGSc9VKONjwsIaf7-s1Uw/s320/IMG_2482.PNG" width="273" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not sure if the man in white was with us but he's in all my photos here. Were Daddy B or Tom taken ill and played by a stand-in actor? </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>So there we have it, well done Tim Thomas and Blackpool Jane, a 2-2 draw. Prizes on the way, next time I see you.</p><p>Si </p><p><br /></p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-24923699375125365292022-10-21T21:20:00.001+01:002022-10-21T21:20:38.930+01:00BRAPA .... THE 2023 GOOD BEER GUIDE IS HERE<p>Well, you could've knocked me down with a feather! Jury service finished, and I'm sat in BRAPA Towers having a leisurely late lunch, watching 1986 Neighbours, before logging onto work for the first time in three weeks to say hello to Baldwin, Coates, Ninh, and Johnson, and catch up on my 1,000 emails in readiness for Monday.</p><p>This new character, 'Madge' (she'll never catch on) is nagging the Ramsay boys, I stuff a third ricotta stuffed pepper into my gob, when comes the gentlest knock at the door.</p><p>I answer whilst still chewing, and it is only a man from Yodel who looks a bit like a bearded Yoda. He gives me a book shaped package. "But I've not ordered a ...ohhhhh .... ooooooh". Well, I'd not heard of one other person getting the GBG to date, so I am shooketh to the coreth. </p><p>Despite the temptation, I lay it to one side (sort of) for an hour or two, but I've been ticking and helping my less fortunate ticking chums who've not received it*, ever since. I'm normally amongst the last to get it, so about time I was amongst the first.</p><p><i>*Even those who've completed the GBG, are in Cornwall, but are still moaning.</i></p><p>As the afternoon has gone on, I've heard that it (the GBG, not RetiredMartin) is popping up in places as diverse as Poppleton, Barton upon Humber, Brighouse and Wakefield. I've lit a candle for those who haven't got it, I've felt that frustration many times.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ol9QxxBWNcGxMuFhh-i3GEOf_KfAQKfWGiJ12RBYD88f55h5Ol1iyToXPklVENwzAxA4FGxNPD-MfkcIfmMfKRp807uD_BNpYoD9MfDwdDO5ITRbAy2YsRQD72N-weARwy_NHDdoHqC2NpLcxZ5pyAF7B3wsWgVvljzeCK1SRZ8hV_pkGq4R13hhew/s2494/IMG_2419.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2494" data-original-width="2248" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_ol9QxxBWNcGxMuFhh-i3GEOf_KfAQKfWGiJ12RBYD88f55h5Ol1iyToXPklVENwzAxA4FGxNPD-MfkcIfmMfKRp807uD_BNpYoD9MfDwdDO5ITRbAy2YsRQD72N-weARwy_NHDdoHqC2NpLcxZ5pyAF7B3wsWgVvljzeCK1SRZ8hV_pkGq4R13hhew/s320/IMG_2419.HEIC" width="288" /></a></div><br /><p>Obviously, we are under embargo until next Thursday but here's a few initial thoughts without giving anything away about the contents.</p><p>I like the cover and design. To be honest, just having a 'cover' again is nice. </p><p>People think I'll be upset that the brewery section is now between counties, but I actually think it works better this way, less jarring than having what I see as 300+ erroneous pages clumped at the end, and it is worth remembering I've not errrm 'extracted, hacked, burnt or sawn' a brewery section since 2019 now! </p><p>The one thing I'm struggling to get used to is the counties being regionalised. I will, but after years of them being in A-Z order, flicking straight to say 'Devon' only to find it half way back is confusing so far.</p><p>The 'churn' looks bad this year! To be honest, last year, we got away with one. Probably something to do with Covid, but the churn was laughably low. I made insane progress as a result. This is a return to the familiar heart wrenching churn where you know you are going to lose big!</p><p>After Wednesday's Knott End on Sea finale, I declared on the 2021/22 season on <b>2464, </b>confident I'd remain over 2250 (50%) after cross-ticking. Now I'm not so sure. Even in counties where I've built up solid bases over the years, I'm haemorrhaging pubs! 27 down in North Yorkshire, 17 in Cornwall, 18 in Hertfordshire. Essex has been kind, South Yorkshire not too bad. West Yorkshire felt bad but wasn't really. But it is early days.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2r5T6uFYuiC_D7rBBNmTCQTN3TjkiGmRezwH9uYbRhQQRpJ9oN7EKmjKPKiDDvEt8Q4L_xxUcp79wOYdrtjJhjOOtnoqdxNuITRuzzPjyUZcT06MUB5mbdX-j59lwlG0iKIfMu3Fq_LO3fMWNX-ajc8fDaIOoRJj1gJDk_3qUMeCNy1LRb8RnE1DCA/s4032/IMG_2380.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl2r5T6uFYuiC_D7rBBNmTCQTN3TjkiGmRezwH9uYbRhQQRpJ9oN7EKmjKPKiDDvEt8Q4L_xxUcp79wOYdrtjJhjOOtnoqdxNuITRuzzPjyUZcT06MUB5mbdX-j59lwlG0iKIfMu3Fq_LO3fMWNX-ajc8fDaIOoRJj1gJDk_3qUMeCNy1LRb8RnE1DCA/s320/IMG_2380.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oscar the Owl and Daddy BRAPA made history in Knott End with the final tick of the 21/22 season</td></tr></tbody></table><p>I'm having a beer break cos my back and head are aching, you get yourself into some weird postures in this cross ticking malarkey. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEbZ8haCPqjUtEsb4nTKbY6qbJSRwrRn7_eSFAlTwNlvrExyCGIFDHvQXaSLak1e1U-vbQjDYJVV8Otgo4G7xUiA90Njrl3pMlyz3dTTUXUeoOt30jqlwewoN5GiL4ZEGCrUS8vKgjx1ZhzRWY3uhGJCAevwIzgvqxiK-2b6dtp2OZrfYDzLb89k--cQ/s4032/IMG_2416.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEbZ8haCPqjUtEsb4nTKbY6qbJSRwrRn7_eSFAlTwNlvrExyCGIFDHvQXaSLak1e1U-vbQjDYJVV8Otgo4G7xUiA90Njrl3pMlyz3dTTUXUeoOt30jqlwewoN5GiL4ZEGCrUS8vKgjx1ZhzRWY3uhGJCAevwIzgvqxiK-2b6dtp2OZrfYDzLb89k--cQ/s320/IMG_2416.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>A couple of changes to my ticking this year. I'm using a YELLOW highlighter for my 'legacy ticks' (thanks to my friend Crispy for that term, thanks to Newbury's Tim Thomas for the idea), and will be using GREEN for my new ticks. If my GBG ends up looking like a Norwich City kit, I'll just have to deal with it. </p><p>Remember, any ticks I do between now and next Thursday should be viewed as pre-emptive and they will not be given a number until I've finished the full cross-ticking exercise, which I'd love to get done by Thursday. Blogs on hold til then.</p><p>And I think that's about it. Time to have a look at Central London, Kent and Lancashire before bed. </p><p>See ya in a random pub some time tomorrow lunchtime.</p><p>Si </p>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-56895326993897859072022-10-20T21:02:00.000+01:002022-10-20T21:02:56.043+01:00BRAPA is .... CHARING CROSS, BIG PIG, PLOP LARKINS : Kenty Was Plenty Part 6/11 <p> "Phew, back to normality, or whatever normality means in the world of BRAPA lolz!" I cry to my fluffy cauliflower as I rise from my slumber at 8:30am on the Tuesday. I boil the mini kettle and make myself a thoroughly inadequate mug of PG Tips. Those removal monkeys from the adverts will be turning in their graves if they knew this once great brand had plumbed to such depths. The Dark Star Hophead of tea, if you like.</p><p>'How do I know they are dead?' you may be asking. Lugging pianos up and down stairs everyday for an entire decade is never going to end well. </p><p>After a hot shower, cornflakes, blueberries, a pathetic pain au chocolat, fresh orange juice, and some continental meats and smoked cheeses, I was all set for the day ahead. Pub ticking is about starting the day in the right way.</p><p>The now familiar bus service from Sittingbourne to Maidstone was negotiated, and I once again cursed myself for not choosing to stay in the latter, being the hub for all places 'awkward mid-Kent'. </p><p>Following hot on the heels of last night's dramatic 'GBG cover dropping off' in Whitstable, I notice the ink is draining alarmingly from my green Stabilo. Luckily, Maidstone WHSmith's provides the answer. In its extensive selection of individual highlighters, I eventually find these two lurkers.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxrLsAqbz3nEnQO_CJbPBf7rdfB7Ojvni7swcNKHd3K5AqVLAEL_FdAbANxZTyHLY64l7csNHbZTicdSGYKt4tofRXOZpu7IjlEjeUbc2h3OEGUbF_EysHN8BtcHVeQOW8wlW475ZKBpDNloOhDtuMe5J6DrkYgLJKD9fPMm1PPE91kMGXRntpKvY8Xw/s4032/IMG_1844.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxrLsAqbz3nEnQO_CJbPBf7rdfB7Ojvni7swcNKHd3K5AqVLAEL_FdAbANxZTyHLY64l7csNHbZTicdSGYKt4tofRXOZpu7IjlEjeUbc2h3OEGUbF_EysHN8BtcHVeQOW8wlW475ZKBpDNloOhDtuMe5J6DrkYgLJKD9fPMm1PPE91kMGXRntpKvY8Xw/s320/IMG_1844.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>I also bought a WHSmith's own yellow one for when it comes to my '2023 Legacy Ticks' (more on that once the new GBG finally arrives, if ever), ruffled the thinning hair of the depressed elderly checkout cove, and hop, skipped and jumped back into the sunny Maidstone thoroughfare, all set to jump aboard the 10X with a smattering of Maidstonians who certainly won't be alive to see the BRAPA conclusion in 2039.</p><p>The driver seems slightly intimidated by my 'Hart Hill Crossroads' specificity, so I smile kindly and tell him I'll press the bell well in advance if he can play his part by putting his foot on the brake. He agrees that this seems the most sensible course of action.</p><p>The 'manoeuvre' (as my old chum Tom 'Clag Monster' Irvin) would put it, goes smoothly, and it is only a 20-25 minute winding walk through some quite beautiful Kentish countryside in the direction of today's first pub, though I do suspect that whoever put the pub in this location was having a laugh at the pub tickers expense.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZoloqzyadrEZfaR2xWQJJXra3CMoxQaHmV8lmEkwiOJD-FtdSCVgjKlGqyHVPWjxu9ep44mcCjoylVKoFu8cuLB-GMtHuWp421SxDJwzJ-zfPGPlCjRuCJ118JSKjt8wKN8FaaLja3We7FXoF6kFozh-PizIILekt-tiNB2eY9itJk0yx3No5MHkcHA/s4032/IMG_1845.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZoloqzyadrEZfaR2xWQJJXra3CMoxQaHmV8lmEkwiOJD-FtdSCVgjKlGqyHVPWjxu9ep44mcCjoylVKoFu8cuLB-GMtHuWp421SxDJwzJ-zfPGPlCjRuCJ118JSKjt8wKN8FaaLja3We7FXoF6kFozh-PizIILekt-tiNB2eY9itJk0yx3No5MHkcHA/s320/IMG_1845.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR1GBpkKag3A3oDQMEOKiK3XSV4gH9eWLWPPs_hJM2EoRQfNLkcSVLYAEEnZZWSP2YLzhVYJSxEH6X78J8zkDEhnknK5m0eLpVRFmXZL45Ao-HnmiNwBhhZFxt0KvN7bKo1C_Wdtyvc1TCkdbniAAIB-a7I7SYpzvrRNk-G49PzSOwHo2BtupOJNsi4g/s4032/IMG_1846.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR1GBpkKag3A3oDQMEOKiK3XSV4gH9eWLWPPs_hJM2EoRQfNLkcSVLYAEEnZZWSP2YLzhVYJSxEH6X78J8zkDEhnknK5m0eLpVRFmXZL45Ao-HnmiNwBhhZFxt0KvN7bKo1C_Wdtyvc1TCkdbniAAIB-a7I7SYpzvrRNk-G49PzSOwHo2BtupOJNsi4g/s320/IMG_1846.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKFT62lSnU0XgkS47PCUgniIUR_q2AKK_rXE9b__S1vVVsThUG-DavfVbF3YA9u3AB174o3QcZOU_r52mjM5GKeStR1NSA26XpyfCmoFrJsHncigPPFc1ZqW55Gl0dQS7O2S9AXoDa4d5p3qxhSlsq3acjb2Z-Ccv7UDpnXztTGWtpJZLv33J7vnVZw/s3024/IMG_1847.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2913" data-original-width="3024" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYKFT62lSnU0XgkS47PCUgniIUR_q2AKK_rXE9b__S1vVVsThUG-DavfVbF3YA9u3AB174o3QcZOU_r52mjM5GKeStR1NSA26XpyfCmoFrJsHncigPPFc1ZqW55Gl0dQS7O2S9AXoDa4d5p3qxhSlsq3acjb2Z-Ccv7UDpnXztTGWtpJZLv33J7vnVZw/s320/IMG_1847.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA_KOugehYSsFLHbgf7v0I77cuB8l3ik8FksF6Q7RDCRA0Qmp3QX6S-vPBkEuD0uDcZTfa2QnA6XWAAzyYoxLc05Wpth1GMavgkmhTA0CjEHg8Lth26LimahZh7eIowWj8M3AN9tRTglc3kRJLSjJtn2ojTR6H1zIuPfTBmtnpXYQw5gJAejiCfGN1gA/s4032/IMG_1848.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhA_KOugehYSsFLHbgf7v0I77cuB8l3ik8FksF6Q7RDCRA0Qmp3QX6S-vPBkEuD0uDcZTfa2QnA6XWAAzyYoxLc05Wpth1GMavgkmhTA0CjEHg8Lth26LimahZh7eIowWj8M3AN9tRTglc3kRJLSjJtn2ojTR6H1zIuPfTBmtnpXYQw5gJAejiCfGN1gA/s320/IMG_1848.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>I suppose an idyllic location, warm sunny weather, the twittering of all manner of finches and tits, a mooing cow and a baaing sheep isn't a guarantee that the greeting you receive is going to be one of chirpy bonhomie, and just as well, because here at the <b>Bowl Inn, Charing (2399 / 3963) </b>the two youthful specimens behind the bar are glumness personified. Sleep walking through their jobs with all the ease of Hull City sleep walking through another defeat. No effort, no fight, no vim, no vigour, no personality. As my latest Canterbury Ale is being pulled, they do spark up a 'banterous' exchange between themselves, which only irks me further as eye contact isn't made with me at any stage. The pub website has you believe this is the most wholesome pub to visit in Christendom. So either someone is lying, or someone is not following the 'brand values'. Within five minutes, the general gloominess, random piles of logs and low slung leather couch is dragging my mood down, so I retire to the benches out front. A sunburnt local has got the right idea, he is leaning against the pub with his eyes closed, occasionally blindly groping for his nearby pint. I'm happier after this, the ale is well kept, I can hear nature, and I'm removed from the pub.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCah5_SlpwQLc1Ihfyff1IHkCvc9f9g3NAOjLjIwPBQKh2qNp0hBnq4N7U-q8geM2JYNahQ_zIC1qW-6YYOF3nviHWxQowg03zxgpAaWm0vOENkiGgeEzBFQqcNClKbTuDJU6imvPrrvHCfKKUlsaw-4lKiBFTvkc2zcjHDvV6JneVfzfDNgZVZAsoMw/s4032/IMG_1850.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCah5_SlpwQLc1Ihfyff1IHkCvc9f9g3NAOjLjIwPBQKh2qNp0hBnq4N7U-q8geM2JYNahQ_zIC1qW-6YYOF3nviHWxQowg03zxgpAaWm0vOENkiGgeEzBFQqcNClKbTuDJU6imvPrrvHCfKKUlsaw-4lKiBFTvkc2zcjHDvV6JneVfzfDNgZVZAsoMw/s320/IMG_1850.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfRqXR6lt6MtXJ2vuVSCs3onIQKQUtxhvxAdz0FrT1jNkRBpQf0oi4gfXJJUVSBpg71C_6V8mWt0sCig3dHvP76SU1RnqQFuMPw6PbwGSjiSa0BEev7jaxJ6Z8Im0XoGYWD_B0mP8crFZ_5Kfmo-jzlS7UQJRUNS3Hnf1iaWnFyeSaFTfv0FVPwumGg/s4032/IMG_1851.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirfRqXR6lt6MtXJ2vuVSCs3onIQKQUtxhvxAdz0FrT1jNkRBpQf0oi4gfXJJUVSBpg71C_6V8mWt0sCig3dHvP76SU1RnqQFuMPw6PbwGSjiSa0BEev7jaxJ6Z8Im0XoGYWD_B0mP8crFZ_5Kfmo-jzlS7UQJRUNS3Hnf1iaWnFyeSaFTfv0FVPwumGg/s320/IMG_1851.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP8kZv6215QO72s_cULRtBX-qWixymOlDnzth0QSi5IwNu_Yq7rCGbyaRy6Uknw_ZtPExGX2IZdlU3Sm9McK5nIpyRnoJ5ZY3m_NDvE-LiG3GQJh4awB8ilSQhE8Hkqv50aMe8baPUfMT5J0QR0cGYzArZWPvxGMP4iVFGyRuKmhPl_Z7AiyHDeX2-Q/s4032/IMG_1852.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP8kZv6215QO72s_cULRtBX-qWixymOlDnzth0QSi5IwNu_Yq7rCGbyaRy6Uknw_ZtPExGX2IZdlU3Sm9McK5nIpyRnoJ5ZY3m_NDvE-LiG3GQJh4awB8ilSQhE8Hkqv50aMe8baPUfMT5J0QR0cGYzArZWPvxGMP4iVFGyRuKmhPl_Z7AiyHDeX2-Q/s320/IMG_1852.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>I take the controversial decision, in my own head at least, to walk onto Charing village which is twice the distance of the bus stop. This is because there is a railway station at Charing, and the bus timings are a bit out of kilter at this current hour.</p><p>I soon realise my pub options aren't quite as plentiful as I'd been expecting. Tuesday is not a great day to be in rural climes. If pubs open at all, it might not be until 4pm. And if they did open at noon, they may well be closed by 2:30/3pm. Stymied from many angles (they don't call me StymieSi for nothing) I decide the best course of action is a return to Maidstone and a connecting bus 5 which on a good day, has plenty of GBG ticks to go at.</p><p>The furthest point south of interest on this route is a curious little town called Cranbrook. Not un-Tenterden like in its pretensions of being slightly more special than it really is. Though slightly reminiscent of Cornish classic Helston with peculiar raised pavements designed to trip up drunken losers who've had too much Spingo Special.</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6c_jhz64fGlU4N0UUCWygj462Qhgz1wd317RI5PMTgsa43hfLA6Ogmggj4JUS0ccQ0PYpzg0aJjidY9pJbuAEkUL3RcMSqxpWnRT2OLfZCiFnC0LgTgPKUYD-64khC0cW3NXyLPoobG00_2byaZMmYkLCggNHjyOM7zCYJZTMyXRzSl5NR0CIGXqLCQ/s1898/IMG_1853.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1898" data-original-width="1606" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6c_jhz64fGlU4N0UUCWygj462Qhgz1wd317RI5PMTgsa43hfLA6Ogmggj4JUS0ccQ0PYpzg0aJjidY9pJbuAEkUL3RcMSqxpWnRT2OLfZCiFnC0LgTgPKUYD-64khC0cW3NXyLPoobG00_2byaZMmYkLCggNHjyOM7zCYJZTMyXRzSl5NR0CIGXqLCQ/s320/IMG_1853.HEIC" width="271" /></a></div><br />Don't let the jolly bald head glimmering in the sun fool you, <b>Larkins' Alehouse, Cranbrook (2400 / 3964) </b>was the cringiest, most awkward pub I would visit this entire week. 'An award winner!' someone on my Twitter cried. Jeez, slow year for good pubs in this part of Kent? A micro of course, you have probably guessed. But let us be fair, no blame should be attached to the three young men who were running the show. A zippy trio, not a bungle amongst them, jumping around the pub like their pedometers depended upon it. I was served with a smile. "Corr, we've ran out of sausage rolls" is the first thing I heard. They laugh, they joke, they frolic like lambs in the meadow, the ale was good, the pub did nothing wrong whatsoever. It was the customers. As one, they cut a tragic figure. A more lugubrious, haggard faced, gloomy bunch I've never before witnessed outside of an Ember Inn. I normally find that in micros, the clientele take their lead from the staff. So happy outgoing staff rub off. But not here. I don't know what to do with myself. I'm conscious of every molecule in my body. At least wolfman with his wolf howling at the moon t-shirt reading a dark fantasy novel at the front is 'doing something'. The rest just blink into the middle distance, occasionally staring at me. The place is narrow and tight. It creates a pressure cooker of doom. I'm just about to do the unthinkable and preside over a ten minute long 'live' Untappd check in, when the old bloke I've long since suspected had most potential whispers something at me. Whispering to avoid waking the dead? Reminds me of the time I upset Dr Phil in Middlesbrough. I jump at the chance of any chat, though he keeps throwing nervous glances at his sour wife who doesn't enjoy the intrusion. We soon bond over Tenterden however, and even her face softens from its original granite form. And then all of a sudden, wolfman stands up and says to me "if you are wanting a lift to Tenterden, I'm heading that way now". Sadly, Tenterden is about the only Kentish place I don't need a lift to but I thank him. "So kind!" I say to our whispering baldie, who replies "oh yes, the folk in here are always spot on". If you say so mate, if you say so. <p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJHpBdAfIOyF6bBSrJN_XBS2lwMe_I9Sep95GHrVp7_dbNml50SMD3vUwpCXVZjoCWSxjP_hGcCC4pvS2Ct-Pw94ssg8088U5mdyF66Z-TX2O5bZ-LHmsqHZJQB9Buat-zZeS36KrFrfzE-pIg3U0SGbhWz68TK2HiwU--syfPdo3qAdPPx_BTW1hvA/s3541/IMG_1854.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3541" data-original-width="2969" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMJHpBdAfIOyF6bBSrJN_XBS2lwMe_I9Sep95GHrVp7_dbNml50SMD3vUwpCXVZjoCWSxjP_hGcCC4pvS2Ct-Pw94ssg8088U5mdyF66Z-TX2O5bZ-LHmsqHZJQB9Buat-zZeS36KrFrfzE-pIg3U0SGbhWz68TK2HiwU--syfPdo3qAdPPx_BTW1hvA/s320/IMG_1854.HEIC" width="268" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBh2pAlQKWL29O98jkW8n2BzT5mBPRWPqiCPk8OBEC1VWnmarx2dV6vD0n6fUiHKzQLYcJJXoir3-tifII99aMha3yEW1-zoxOmMQq64gMQGkd_MCCIzDkQEWQscANgLYlzKBqnc-ZSb5Uxyz_iLLH9erHE_U7_0zZpZPdwNYhmnnx8yqz210XiyNbLg/s4032/IMG_1855.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBh2pAlQKWL29O98jkW8n2BzT5mBPRWPqiCPk8OBEC1VWnmarx2dV6vD0n6fUiHKzQLYcJJXoir3-tifII99aMha3yEW1-zoxOmMQq64gMQGkd_MCCIzDkQEWQscANgLYlzKBqnc-ZSb5Uxyz_iLLH9erHE_U7_0zZpZPdwNYhmnnx8yqz210XiyNbLg/s320/IMG_1855.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6pk8entUL1E4Jlfr2OYdnmogszIo5VJDH-cH8gu2K3h2hgWjhIERzO-krf0GfE9ApEV51Wy0QBvQQXxm8a557pxt4hccVif452fX6g51XQhXTmkguI8ttN0hLVdCxM3O1KKpS1eA-yeMHwaTcSzw0x7EonSrMvWbtRlm4f46hi47CWs6aTiOvxhGxw/s3284/IMG_1856.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3284" data-original-width="2978" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu6pk8entUL1E4Jlfr2OYdnmogszIo5VJDH-cH8gu2K3h2hgWjhIERzO-krf0GfE9ApEV51Wy0QBvQQXxm8a557pxt4hccVif452fX6g51XQhXTmkguI8ttN0hLVdCxM3O1KKpS1eA-yeMHwaTcSzw0x7EonSrMvWbtRlm4f46hi47CWs6aTiOvxhGxw/s320/IMG_1856.HEIC" width="290" /></a></div><br /><p>Time to head back north on the number 5 bus. A random Geordie (there is one in every town) pushes in front of me, apologises, saying he thinks he lost his wallet on this bus earlier. "What does it look like?" asks the driver. "Brooooon and leatha" says random Geordie. "Good enough for me, mate" says driver, handing it over. RG looks so relieved, I'm actually really pleased for him.</p><p>Next stop, the <b>Knoxbridge, Frittenden </b>on the main road. The bus rapidly becomes a school bus, it is that time of day, and no BRAPA holiday would be complete without the dreaded school bus experience.</p><p>I press the bell, but I check myself just before I hop off. "Hang on, it doesn't look very open, does it look open to you?" I ask the driver. "HOW THE BLOODY 'ELL SHOULD I KNOW?" barks the driver impatiently. I resist the temptation to say "errrm, look at it?" but the shutters, darkness and Castle Duckula-esque cobwebs hanging off the closest door and window are a giveaway. I tell him I'll stay on to Maidstone and decide to research it further tomorrow.</p><p>I'm expecting the kids to rip the absolute Michael out of me, but no, as I do the walk of shame back to my seat feeling like a prize turnip, I even get a couple of sympathetic glances off the more studious ones as if to say "the perils of GBG ticking, eh?" #PubKids </p><p>With Staplehurst and Linton not open today (and Boughton Monchelsea pairing well with the latter), I have no choice but to get myself back into Maidstone and abandon my rural plans. It has been a lot of effort for very little reward, but hey, it happens! </p><p>Time to hastily message Mrs Maidstone herself, Pauline Sharp, to see if she wants to come out n play (well, meet Colin) at short notice, and I'm delighted and a bit surprised when she says yes. </p><p>There are certain Twitter pub legends who need three months written notice and a specific BRAPA arrival time. </p><p>My third pub today, and final one in Part 6 is this ......</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIz7kmRXW7WTfXSmN5gJOsNAm2To-kGBIwBIDrC7QJyTZCbIDl3wKEQcE67cgJ12uDQydm7zLVMVJM-MCPz0VKRjYkx7BGsV1lbMj8cuiFb7zjpYyz5JPleQhvS8Wx4WNNAnabMZ2tcl_d03YjW-k9xiTQfM-WESXmzYCwzTFQwcziOpmPmnszBYNsXw/s3753/IMG_1857.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3753" data-original-width="2775" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIz7kmRXW7WTfXSmN5gJOsNAm2To-kGBIwBIDrC7QJyTZCbIDl3wKEQcE67cgJ12uDQydm7zLVMVJM-MCPz0VKRjYkx7BGsV1lbMj8cuiFb7zjpYyz5JPleQhvS8Wx4WNNAnabMZ2tcl_d03YjW-k9xiTQfM-WESXmzYCwzTFQwcziOpmPmnszBYNsXw/s320/IMG_1857.HEIC" width="237" /></a></div><br /><p>'Gorgeous Tudor fronted old building ruined by a ridiculously oversized comedy pub sign' is my first assessment of <b>Olde Thirsty Pig, Maidstone (2401 / 3964) </b>, a pub of hidden depths (and heights!) though it'd take a trip to the loo to realise. The tiny front bar is lined with friendly, boisterous folk sat uncomfortably close together on adjacent stools. You know, 'thighs touching' close. The barmaid is buzzy and lively, conversation is peculiar and after obtaining what'd prove a very impressive pint of the Tonbridge Ebony Moon, I balance my pint, bag and jacket on the one remaining stool, and go in search of a toilet, with the intention of bracing myself for some overly intimate local chatter (a culture shock after my Cranbrook experience). But to my surprise and joy, steep steps (enough to make Mount Everest or even a Central London pub blush) lead up to some empty, beautifully vaulted rooms, and it is the same story downstairs, a hidden back room - this was like York's House of The Trembling Madness (Stonegate edition) but with room to swing a Cauli. I return to the bar to grab my things, luckily the locals are too engrossed in a tale of a child with the body of a cat who has been brought up in a forest (or something) to notice, and before long, Pauline arrives. Meeting Colin is the highlight, even if he is a bit 'grey' at present he still gets a cuddle. She tells me how she'd had to nip into 'the club' to tell Mr Pauline ("oooh the wife's here, yer in trouble" the other blokes say) that she was coming to meet the Cauliflower Man off Twitter, which no doubt left him a bit gobsmacked! Time to come to another pub with me? Pauline says yes. A good pub this, another one to add to Maidstone's strong suit of GBG entries. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9M-xKLuk2EFYyv9k48XYwkc22yRLsFm1CUtzjwbMDWZu_RBoGhVr9l0eb0JVLMemYjY5CwUFSm8nJcxvYo2E3bmzzwi1G9KO5-QGfuviQd8yJuJ-QAw9dH8ofGr38x_cIBhdYMU30DPmsOmrtk5SFtIlL6DZp3HHh2PsvYOZiTAK3Em7uf6crQ5B67g/s4032/IMG_1858.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9M-xKLuk2EFYyv9k48XYwkc22yRLsFm1CUtzjwbMDWZu_RBoGhVr9l0eb0JVLMemYjY5CwUFSm8nJcxvYo2E3bmzzwi1G9KO5-QGfuviQd8yJuJ-QAw9dH8ofGr38x_cIBhdYMU30DPmsOmrtk5SFtIlL6DZp3HHh2PsvYOZiTAK3Em7uf6crQ5B67g/s320/IMG_1858.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUmvWG1wVXnzlhbtt20EJjrxKEpwtYREeAXmthlho0BCR7AM4kId9TlMYYJC0HWEWBV44YNMxFzkki54W2aB5b3YMNGGKw6zYt0KZWMMuWKoHkYYKUFegiM5oYNOYYNIYxKBYMvv5D1v71OVcYohczkb82tUY0CDAe3QjkbxRnbHIC6D4CzRUDhQIbA/s4032/IMG_1859.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUmvWG1wVXnzlhbtt20EJjrxKEpwtYREeAXmthlho0BCR7AM4kId9TlMYYJC0HWEWBV44YNMxFzkki54W2aB5b3YMNGGKw6zYt0KZWMMuWKoHkYYKUFegiM5oYNOYYNIYxKBYMvv5D1v71OVcYohczkb82tUY0CDAe3QjkbxRnbHIC6D4CzRUDhQIbA/s320/IMG_1859.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Surprise upstairs joy at the Thirsty P.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdspglPjGdSiUIg0cvPHFYnEUntnCnDgRkDPSzGakKh8c--Hz3OQtbAgef1TqjPaD4AbTIXkcfTY1EBe6xfT7T1NXvVeJDqqvRIvl-uKZa9EXaUw19oKk8nEEpc_P6XAFPrJfzbOMNrxuZVuwn6FUisEU6Np1AwPL-uVAuLXlEaXl4Orx-fre39Cs0g/s4032/IMG_1860.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRdspglPjGdSiUIg0cvPHFYnEUntnCnDgRkDPSzGakKh8c--Hz3OQtbAgef1TqjPaD4AbTIXkcfTY1EBe6xfT7T1NXvVeJDqqvRIvl-uKZa9EXaUw19oKk8nEEpc_P6XAFPrJfzbOMNrxuZVuwn6FUisEU6Np1AwPL-uVAuLXlEaXl4Orx-fre39Cs0g/s320/IMG_1860.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">More upstairs joy in the Thirsty P.</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJog2b3aRBopCpJEVb4cqD4GNxNE3JM3we9LBg2wqcC1bARkokiUwXEekKVCLMU-Adv5ZTKBKcQYMbwplF2fFjrMbluoJtiZrxvhXIagw8UOqCDCfpm42YBpj6Tj6oHQ3xopSVhGhyHZnpKc94HuPPtmDXCVD7chge7n578t7EGJvTtY_PVte2LYttQ/s3749/IMG_1861.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3749" data-original-width="2606" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhJog2b3aRBopCpJEVb4cqD4GNxNE3JM3we9LBg2wqcC1bARkokiUwXEekKVCLMU-Adv5ZTKBKcQYMbwplF2fFjrMbluoJtiZrxvhXIagw8UOqCDCfpm42YBpj6Tj6oHQ3xopSVhGhyHZnpKc94HuPPtmDXCVD7chge7n578t7EGJvTtY_PVte2LYttQ/s320/IMG_1861.HEIC" width="222" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">What a fabulous pub room (ignore Mr Nike traffic lights)</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lhe_9pVJSyKTZ61cZocEjX4NgISy3eRrfeRmBp7xD1nGgs7DQOXYHPlKP0pwuYMz6CT_nefy1qtuzw0uMJOmd5NHJlznnNqDQy6NTrwsbUALRToKCTrbdFCyYzFSuFEhI6Taz_4qBMPMygoimiV1k77uGjD0Wwdd3uBabjLPuVDo7614uwgrJ3jqMA/s4032/IMG_1862.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1lhe_9pVJSyKTZ61cZocEjX4NgISy3eRrfeRmBp7xD1nGgs7DQOXYHPlKP0pwuYMz6CT_nefy1qtuzw0uMJOmd5NHJlznnNqDQy6NTrwsbUALRToKCTrbdFCyYzFSuFEhI6Taz_4qBMPMygoimiV1k77uGjD0Wwdd3uBabjLPuVDo7614uwgrJ3jqMA/s320/IMG_1862.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stop showing off for Auntie Pauline, mate</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiSUQ0Y4objUQKwOeGaMPaRYc_XkQZKt2uA8Mmj4OULYya9rh-OEAfYcYLtRxdxWPdtTxsk2GsVHNbz0REL76kG1nDFchOKlFU5BCIrzYQNRL6jJOpIiH-fxA5TSFmShk7xowWPoPQ9oKfWWg5tDfFTRkZ9qNFfGLwkmUWJEPWYjOcdmpD2nrlc76hw/s4032/IMG_1863.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWiSUQ0Y4objUQKwOeGaMPaRYc_XkQZKt2uA8Mmj4OULYya9rh-OEAfYcYLtRxdxWPdtTxsk2GsVHNbz0REL76kG1nDFchOKlFU5BCIrzYQNRL6jJOpIiH-fxA5TSFmShk7xowWPoPQ9oKfWWg5tDfFTRkZ9qNFfGLwkmUWJEPWYjOcdmpD2nrlc76hw/s320/IMG_1863.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Aaaahhhh</td></tr></tbody></table><br />Join me tomorrow for part 7 where we will hear about the rest of my Tuesday in Kent.<div><br /></div><div>Where IS this flippin' GBG? The official release date is 27th Oct (a week today) so we are already in 'shortest embargo period ever' territory. It is ordinarily sent out just over two weeks before. I'm starting to suspect it isn't anything to do with the postal strike and they are deliberately sending them out later this year, which is poor form if so. Oi, where's mi privilege?! </div><div><br /></div><div>Si<br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-76524802466359225992022-10-18T22:09:00.003+01:002022-10-18T22:09:57.329+01:00BRAPA in ..... DON'T JUDGE A GBG BY ITS MISSING COVER : Kenty was Plenty 5/11<p>Canterbury had done me pretty well on this most difficult of State Funeral ticking days. Three pubs down, one to go. I'd had to hang around until 17:30 opening, which hadn't been ideal, but at least they'd been clear about their intentions on Facebook, which was a helluva lot better than most. </p><p>It appeared in the late afternoon sun, twinkling up at me with a cheeky air of menace about it.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQlkkCacgi4cbehA-j5myYVp0YCGKB81n_GGRFRWuXH7d8fyeL_IdLYcTz-VvZ-OgTRuwK2aOZ3Nox4nkT17yzn5v9CxkAxf4kTLqlHOQ7LKt_v5y7T9Vwx7k13N0HILCgvLHrMBFJNWgKpc5WUN7gZKvj3fmDlbL8qbzhpUN21Nd4P9-9icFFouhdg/s3081/IMG_1823.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3081" data-original-width="3021" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGQlkkCacgi4cbehA-j5myYVp0YCGKB81n_GGRFRWuXH7d8fyeL_IdLYcTz-VvZ-OgTRuwK2aOZ3Nox4nkT17yzn5v9CxkAxf4kTLqlHOQ7LKt_v5y7T9Vwx7k13N0HILCgvLHrMBFJNWgKpc5WUN7gZKvj3fmDlbL8qbzhpUN21Nd4P9-9icFFouhdg/s320/IMG_1823.HEIC" width="314" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Have you ever seen anything more cheeky menacing?</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I'm one of the first customer's inside the <b>New Inn, Canterbury (2396 / 3960). </b>On first glance, it is very much a basic, locals boozer like the Eight Bells, but it is immediately apparent that it has a lot more depth - and I don't just mean literally. It snakes all the way back to a light conservatory where the loos are, but for the most part, it is pure pub theatre. A barman serves me a hazy but very pleasant Arbor Shangri-La, the kind of thing you see in York Tap. I take it to a seat by the front so I have a good vantage point of any occurrences. The good thing about occurrences is that they have a good chance of occurring. It isn't long before the 'characters' start rolling in, and it is only because this is my 5th pint of the day that my recollections are hazier than the Arbor. Patrick is the first to stamp his personality on proceedings, a sort of richly drawn Harry Enfield posho stuck in a different era. He is upset that the Guinness isn't on. He's recommended a beer I really liked up in Droylsden called 'Stout Detectives'. "Tastes a bit medieval, like me!" he comments, tying in with my assessment of him. A young lady who can't be much older than 25 walks in. She complains about her current working hours , orders a pint of St Austell Tribute and sups it off on a nearby table. I've never seen the like! And craziest of all, this lady who sat on the end. Sadly, I made no notes and had already done my Twitter check in at this point but she was a really impressive, highly intelligent but terrifying individual. Colin had to return to his bag for fear of being seen or we'd never have got away, let us just put it like that, a real rarity. But what a smashing pub. <div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkYwRvwfuCnmIzOaofzqlwXnijKtH5ik3isQrt4kWzNr-7Ii3APinLKyhRLlY4v7KXdcE98y2wJ-0JphYqKLUSRY4fEqmr2xaArxbTyLtwuAIwKN1kwihr_URgYq-j2gAc5H4bbyw6ufqM-9FoYGoTi-PXCBLmGYGVZ882aaXyaG5KON_3pNqGZaalA/s4032/IMG_1826.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfkYwRvwfuCnmIzOaofzqlwXnijKtH5ik3isQrt4kWzNr-7Ii3APinLKyhRLlY4v7KXdcE98y2wJ-0JphYqKLUSRY4fEqmr2xaArxbTyLtwuAIwKN1kwihr_URgYq-j2gAc5H4bbyw6ufqM-9FoYGoTi-PXCBLmGYGVZ882aaXyaG5KON_3pNqGZaalA/s320/IMG_1826.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Shhh Colin, hide!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWSuI49eIPwXqVptB9tRDhzL_n1xldmdm3AUssaxnqA3iKUuRLTo6jXmyh4K5pGeDfx5AcWmKvgXUYN16fo-U83wZwIkBDBJGB4OVv7gbzAsJTz0y3bpY0b0RSE56_vcLGWVknQTgopiAmuJ9nfQNvP2T4w7ptNbeG43uFH5wHgw1yN182zidZ8aSJw/s3232/IMG_1825.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3232" data-original-width="2471" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVWSuI49eIPwXqVptB9tRDhzL_n1xldmdm3AUssaxnqA3iKUuRLTo6jXmyh4K5pGeDfx5AcWmKvgXUYN16fo-U83wZwIkBDBJGB4OVv7gbzAsJTz0y3bpY0b0RSE56_vcLGWVknQTgopiAmuJ9nfQNvP2T4w7ptNbeG43uFH5wHgw1yN182zidZ8aSJw/s320/IMG_1825.HEIC" width="245" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It could've actually have been the Surrey Hills Collusion but I don't think so</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM5L_f5yKF966TKwaDh-JgWUzF8l2DVy2t_hbdC9GH7QELpbSLOTdoafyBsidgrlTTmyjT-wdibWlnTrJl5IBUYkeL8Lhzm_qof7pY0VlSAG_jJtrSd-bhlNh85TYrFv5RSdWDdk26v5WL_OkhwzB_DoILvlwLWgjYqLPFSD-HkR9rdYl8__teVt2O1Q/s3465/IMG_1824.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3465" data-original-width="2875" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM5L_f5yKF966TKwaDh-JgWUzF8l2DVy2t_hbdC9GH7QELpbSLOTdoafyBsidgrlTTmyjT-wdibWlnTrJl5IBUYkeL8Lhzm_qof7pY0VlSAG_jJtrSd-bhlNh85TYrFv5RSdWDdk26v5WL_OkhwzB_DoILvlwLWgjYqLPFSD-HkR9rdYl8__teVt2O1Q/s320/IMG_1824.HEIC" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Oooh, those bar towels will be collectors items soon</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>At this stage in the day, my thought was that if I could take six ticks from a day like this, that'd be quite the achievement. </div><div><br /></div><div>So it was back to the North Kent coast to see if I could eke two more out. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNU7tTjqnGeo6q8A0OJhcQUqaqoMF1yqz-cPB14iXJEFomPWQUKRqVTMuKFTK_ESMYplFScviPIy2itYGLyE0ktv5Wux1NHLFaCl5Np29t7VhRdTKJgXDLHbP7ZdXFoLd4ffSz1-Sr6LKRCFHO_XsuC8fC6Y0Z8zWNI4SmO-Jwp38MB0-5uUDL9tsKYw/s3088/IMG_1827.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNU7tTjqnGeo6q8A0OJhcQUqaqoMF1yqz-cPB14iXJEFomPWQUKRqVTMuKFTK_ESMYplFScviPIy2itYGLyE0ktv5Wux1NHLFaCl5Np29t7VhRdTKJgXDLHbP7ZdXFoLd4ffSz1-Sr6LKRCFHO_XsuC8fC6Y0Z8zWNI4SmO-Jwp38MB0-5uUDL9tsKYw/s320/IMG_1827.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"Two more, we only want two more, so go on BRAPA score"</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>That photo was taken from an underpass just outside Faversham station. It smelt of wee. But on the whole, I'd find Faversham one of the more salubrious places I've visited in Kent to date. </div><div><br /></div><div>Faversham had 4 GBG ticks. Shipwrights was way too far out to try tonight. The Elephant looked unlikely. But I had high hopes for the other two. </div><div><br /></div><div>The <b>Bear </b>had mentioned on Facebook (another nicely 'transparent' pub effort) that they were opening at 2pm, and remain open depending on 'demand'. That gave me cause for optimism. But as I approached, it was very much shut. Boo.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_EVhsviod-l25MyQNJ0CpOguRgwoJt-8nvcEbqZWXOAYzDPQUO_hkcBkk7gKYE7mMloWg9UExuVhmPOjKkpSQW8ObvIGbQNo4PDi3_0PThOV118l9-uWuDXtPD5kr6V9HJuZtIibd9kl3JVWkGXp7fFFkn3AoH68uEHFksffZckhRLrswxZ25s9Wnw/s4032/IMG_1828.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip_EVhsviod-l25MyQNJ0CpOguRgwoJt-8nvcEbqZWXOAYzDPQUO_hkcBkk7gKYE7mMloWg9UExuVhmPOjKkpSQW8ObvIGbQNo4PDi3_0PThOV118l9-uWuDXtPD5kr6V9HJuZtIibd9kl3JVWkGXp7fFFkn3AoH68uEHFksffZckhRLrswxZ25s9Wnw/s320/IMG_1828.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Thankfully, the pub which I'd rated as 'most likely' was open .....</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxm9wfKowcnly8dMnO5Hw6XGKEpjdMG4Cc7bu549z-M7B_OBJSi16LznWKlPdPyUZ6598x3NVAGoEEAOLClBmGzSMSIWBq_f7B4sXAlknWIZBp0zPRRAYGRDPsYNQ_DeHhuOOSe8gdD1TH-YNGXylIjtMeIjYEIFUiHQRiamJX4Ns8-bbMr8RNRWttcw/s3608/IMG_1829.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3608" data-original-width="2622" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxm9wfKowcnly8dMnO5Hw6XGKEpjdMG4Cc7bu549z-M7B_OBJSi16LznWKlPdPyUZ6598x3NVAGoEEAOLClBmGzSMSIWBq_f7B4sXAlknWIZBp0zPRRAYGRDPsYNQ_DeHhuOOSe8gdD1TH-YNGXylIjtMeIjYEIFUiHQRiamJX4Ns8-bbMr8RNRWttcw/s320/IMG_1829.HEIC" width="233" /></a></div><div><br /></div>A narrow, wooden, vaguely nautical scene of bonhomie greets me at <b>Furlongs Ale House, Faversham (2397 / 3961) </b>and I'm wondering if this is where all the Bear's customers have shifted to, because I don't believe people think "oh, Queen funeral, let's curtail our drinking out of respect" though I guess they might be remembering they have work in the morning. A confusing 'pumps hidden behind the bar, and behind a screen' set up has me sweating like an imp, but the lady is nice, and the Iron Pier Old Ale, like all Iron Pier ales I've tried so far, is a thing of perfection. I climb up a weirdly raised bit to sit on a weirdly raised bench, a bit like being in York Crown Court, and eventually, the couple to my left, Luke & Lorraine, spy my battered GBG and comment "that looks serious" and so a BRAPA chat commences. They are well travelled across the UK, and soon we are chatting on pubs of Derbyshire, Cumbria and another county we both know but which is too inconsequential to remember, so I'm thinking Beds or Bucks. I tell me them about my quest for one more pub tonight to get up to six, and they give me renewed hope that the Elephant WILL be open ... "And if it isn't...." comments Lorraine, " it is a lovely pub to look at from the outside". Errrm, not sure that'll be much consolation but cheers!<div><br /></div><div> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4u3IgZ7ySBMd0_yJDhZLOaajtofqrO-KCCZW23wO_8BoED4Hw0dsGZN7w_H2m684hUK8CZaNcCsg7vR17IM-wdP6rqz4-zmi95iNOmLvFEO6d9SQ1vEHAIs50FVGM1cBFJ-DdSeTivdZIpWN_AWrmQj-1CquLEB7o_zCEJ3I7HG8UEPZqZhah0upKqg/s3688/IMG_1834.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3688" data-original-width="2609" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4u3IgZ7ySBMd0_yJDhZLOaajtofqrO-KCCZW23wO_8BoED4Hw0dsGZN7w_H2m684hUK8CZaNcCsg7vR17IM-wdP6rqz4-zmi95iNOmLvFEO6d9SQ1vEHAIs50FVGM1cBFJ-DdSeTivdZIpWN_AWrmQj-1CquLEB7o_zCEJ3I7HG8UEPZqZhah0upKqg/s320/IMG_1834.HEIC" width="226" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZp8N2td-n6idD7ZmVIJrzkvb_IY5hZl7i3w8_rLfLdIZ3C94OTCkq3uJtEe3NkFLv4nFkrNRLdKVz7ZXvq7KzeqErCQgAKJq59kI9ON0lbx5AeGrMqo_4UZmoAMqfvAepliWHncwJLN1eHz6E9kO-8Bwf49GTYBxqJ7U-Qxc9NeEwPluDwUpRXFhmAg/s3054/IMG_1833.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3054" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZp8N2td-n6idD7ZmVIJrzkvb_IY5hZl7i3w8_rLfLdIZ3C94OTCkq3uJtEe3NkFLv4nFkrNRLdKVz7ZXvq7KzeqErCQgAKJq59kI9ON0lbx5AeGrMqo_4UZmoAMqfvAepliWHncwJLN1eHz6E9kO-8Bwf49GTYBxqJ7U-Qxc9NeEwPluDwUpRXFhmAg/s320/IMG_1833.HEIC" width="317" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirGec7_ocSOZMIUJnitdnf4uJHddSWiz1Re3M1Okv-SxFh3haAoo_Qod3lwPtPo5wn5Fg42GIFTKJpp8KTHEA8QP5AxN6nvWwP9223q81odGVdGcmlJ-XhGlj-_2SXMB5OaruPL9hNFCobzJtx85eV_PovAO76SwzpF5NLdw7bcoZvpB7gODZTUQLt5Q/s4032/IMG_1832.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirGec7_ocSOZMIUJnitdnf4uJHddSWiz1Re3M1Okv-SxFh3haAoo_Qod3lwPtPo5wn5Fg42GIFTKJpp8KTHEA8QP5AxN6nvWwP9223q81odGVdGcmlJ-XhGlj-_2SXMB5OaruPL9hNFCobzJtx85eV_PovAO76SwzpF5NLdw7bcoZvpB7gODZTUQLt5Q/s320/IMG_1832.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingt5nDDXYDzT7CNzk-lInh2tmLV9UEK6LP69rHsuIMev1IyVWe35Mts842Vd0UoBB8E9t9P3fPcs8HiyOI0JiE6V-9k8UcrpXB2Ct-DwdSrOKoWghgQ6mXcoJ---s8j7prLGJT-YdXrMFP2EUG9QV5qyQ6k4CkRIvbxLZVplrBVU0soe7JJAetHDDDw/s4032/IMG_1831.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEingt5nDDXYDzT7CNzk-lInh2tmLV9UEK6LP69rHsuIMev1IyVWe35Mts842Vd0UoBB8E9t9P3fPcs8HiyOI0JiE6V-9k8UcrpXB2Ct-DwdSrOKoWghgQ6mXcoJ---s8j7prLGJT-YdXrMFP2EUG9QV5qyQ6k4CkRIvbxLZVplrBVU0soe7JJAetHDDDw/s320/IMG_1831.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />Well, Lorraine was right to some extent. It was a very attractive pub to look at from the outside.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU_0Lz9gKFZOHeKRe9JleQgFKD5XSbPrBz6hb2VPxS2WkZcvfQeRz1kSCBsnbZJKUzugGWQXPLX99DmN8aVzY4-V7U_JTCBcIJ1rImIIAmmHEEmdQSKh6iBm_S1u3i6kRaJ947JEmDQLKBoN5S-URSxXSWsP_Zo3bjZuVpFqTTTPbdqOO2BZIGLrSWKw/s3024/IMG_1835.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2831" data-original-width="3024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU_0Lz9gKFZOHeKRe9JleQgFKD5XSbPrBz6hb2VPxS2WkZcvfQeRz1kSCBsnbZJKUzugGWQXPLX99DmN8aVzY4-V7U_JTCBcIJ1rImIIAmmHEEmdQSKh6iBm_S1u3i6kRaJ947JEmDQLKBoN5S-URSxXSWsP_Zo3bjZuVpFqTTTPbdqOO2BZIGLrSWKw/s320/IMG_1835.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>But as I said, not much consolation. Unless I change my rules so that the tick counts if you've viewed it from the outside? But no, I'm not the Red Lioness. Ooops, did I say that out loud? </div><div><br /></div><div>Faversham, you really need to be more Canterbury. Fav would make it up to me on the Thursday, but that was a long way off as I trudged back through piss alley to the station.</div><div><br /></div><div>But I wasn't giving up on this sixth pub, even if it did mean heading even further west at what was becoming quite a late hour, so now I even had 'early last orders' to contend with!</div><div><br /></div><div>Whitstable was the next stop out west, and my morning research hadn't been conclusive but Ship Centurion looked a decent possibility. Twelve Taps less so. Failing this, Herne Bay. The pressure was on and it was with a great deal of trepidation I rounded that last corner. </div><div><br /></div><div>But lights were on, it looked very open, and it wasn't quite 9pm .....</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSV5ml3iDmob0uJqH08wVa2_BHZU_-IzB6OoYr4VS6-oI0lC1rVgOKgHOis6ULKobqfKqG2R3BZuBBy8bM-vW0rBbESyb0LdL2VdZpYW9FCOUsUwIfoYXhhLKwtw4w0TSgnJrbSkxdSEeHnSspsd0EpVlywMP2tj32lx2tmf8wZhqicmZCS4nTtqyKA/s3609/IMG_1836.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3609" data-original-width="2331" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvSV5ml3iDmob0uJqH08wVa2_BHZU_-IzB6OoYr4VS6-oI0lC1rVgOKgHOis6ULKobqfKqG2R3BZuBBy8bM-vW0rBbESyb0LdL2VdZpYW9FCOUsUwIfoYXhhLKwtw4w0TSgnJrbSkxdSEeHnSspsd0EpVlywMP2tj32lx2tmf8wZhqicmZCS4nTtqyKA/s320/IMG_1836.HEIC" width="207" /></a></div><br /><div>And with plenty of folk within, I didn't hesitate as mine beret-clad host (I thought they were more French, but the pub flag was German, so who knows) serves me a London Pride - it just felt right for that time of night. I nearly went Adnams Southwold but the Goachers Fine Light and Hophead were never in my thoughts. <b>Ship Centurion, Whitstable (2398 / 3962) </b>surprised me further by not being a micropub. Had I just assumed by this point that every pub on the Kent coast was a micro? Is that an unreasonable assumption? Ok, so it had board games but it also had a nice juicy understated carpet of good shag (9/10), plenty of plush seating and was just generally, spectacularly unfussy. The crowd were quite 'eclectic', one minute Deftones are the flavour of the month, then it is Barry White serenading his goat. In all my jubilation, I jubilantly pluck my GBG from my bag rather too jubilantly, and the cover comes clean off .... well, it was hanging by a thread anyway, and we aren't long til the new GBG (he keeps saying!) so it was no great loss. The main thing was six ticks achieved on a most difficult day.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGaVOaoxHlVQvZMCE7VUFwAMYUKfEWtwisYvv_KxPtFKSJ3_Wqul4vriHII2LkbqmoXauYEyOoGAYvAqC0a7LZtGBkzBVQbtMWdzRXnP8_wdPvnATl6e8PqU1iHyM4sV_F-CWY1MZZT4YBOFHoWq6C1L08VsfeMErItOmBFT_YY-O31wOLops-T_yNw/s4032/IMG_1841.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrGaVOaoxHlVQvZMCE7VUFwAMYUKfEWtwisYvv_KxPtFKSJ3_Wqul4vriHII2LkbqmoXauYEyOoGAYvAqC0a7LZtGBkzBVQbtMWdzRXnP8_wdPvnATl6e8PqU1iHyM4sV_F-CWY1MZZT4YBOFHoWq6C1L08VsfeMErItOmBFT_YY-O31wOLops-T_yNw/s320/IMG_1841.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJGsffnhNStMSUNIdbOjNnTtZtmdngLO4EurpdF2-b0r4R3M8Fi85Hu20iqvEgk9nU-oe2Xj4XEnOW26AM30Ldt_BE4OYDjR5ALT0RMleauVr-y7b8yB_I_q8b9fSK_Fg7afevMgYbIn1oDZ2oYG2lbdLqzFFhUCZEVeKOsWZy37P1XhOswQjJQKtrMg/s4032/IMG_1839.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJGsffnhNStMSUNIdbOjNnTtZtmdngLO4EurpdF2-b0r4R3M8Fi85Hu20iqvEgk9nU-oe2Xj4XEnOW26AM30Ldt_BE4OYDjR5ALT0RMleauVr-y7b8yB_I_q8b9fSK_Fg7afevMgYbIn1oDZ2oYG2lbdLqzFFhUCZEVeKOsWZy37P1XhOswQjJQKtrMg/s320/IMG_1839.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7L6wJyOX9hmCnavG7srciLRxjjOK7VbIVQXu7GXZAbTfhk9jOCs1B-J8KvRBJQZrnyuOZ-5DkI-X3RJQRRHepjFaAhyLMsOUtXzzben8y1pQaPIn6ONNtzZepw4Bfo0zEneSPAtT3uYGXguYP-TCWP6yMFWh7OsGe9-s3iz2U9zIirTg76m24e2vm1A/s4032/IMG_1838.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7L6wJyOX9hmCnavG7srciLRxjjOK7VbIVQXu7GXZAbTfhk9jOCs1B-J8KvRBJQZrnyuOZ-5DkI-X3RJQRRHepjFaAhyLMsOUtXzzben8y1pQaPIn6ONNtzZepw4Bfo0zEneSPAtT3uYGXguYP-TCWP6yMFWh7OsGe9-s3iz2U9zIirTg76m24e2vm1A/s320/IMG_1838.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3z04Y5cGYOT-jRws4CmBwOE0dA01QAuMmiiVLFkrSnb5alLV1sL5zmoyfGKz7DSVtSdAZMRYrrjDFV_W-5YtKPKWlAY706OtGgETNUWdDaobQjq1ijnz8w25H2dDdMq0llpDldtIRhcldjGR5QX_s-JojiJBeNUoaSpqXegvCT_I4A--Y1NBmmf48kg/s4032/IMG_1837.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3z04Y5cGYOT-jRws4CmBwOE0dA01QAuMmiiVLFkrSnb5alLV1sL5zmoyfGKz7DSVtSdAZMRYrrjDFV_W-5YtKPKWlAY706OtGgETNUWdDaobQjq1ijnz8w25H2dDdMq0llpDldtIRhcldjGR5QX_s-JojiJBeNUoaSpqXegvCT_I4A--Y1NBmmf48kg/s320/IMG_1837.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-GeLtvfxk5rh79mT7flUeECbFoZQcRFjBIIazbMPNeWrMXaVDKG-ks1c_hMyAdFYU_HjCfYUGaNspJXkl5aj2OPwzmy7gaUKF-b9adR9lD9PdhwzuGKLW-uQIPPRIfMfWcDu61HRdpSrdC2XH7rXnEISecppqTpkSfKp388zK83kwXad9tFURNGwGg/s4032/IMG_1842.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-GeLtvfxk5rh79mT7flUeECbFoZQcRFjBIIazbMPNeWrMXaVDKG-ks1c_hMyAdFYU_HjCfYUGaNspJXkl5aj2OPwzmy7gaUKF-b9adR9lD9PdhwzuGKLW-uQIPPRIfMfWcDu61HRdpSrdC2XH7rXnEISecppqTpkSfKp388zK83kwXad9tFURNGwGg/s320/IMG_1842.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXbubCP7oB9S54TO2kiwlbEeMe_pJd3Tpv7MUWAFshqVwanHFjZhU07Nw5o-zIWGyuDJYia-hfOXoS4ySy1DWFU93VvPsy2w_KNySD0URvohsu4V0YHPRPXm5R5P2PeSIx2OWo17fiY5JO9CORAwXn2EuU3HkrQJu_aGs3wOqrXMZBwS8Cx4gl1sXi2w/s4032/IMG_1840.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXbubCP7oB9S54TO2kiwlbEeMe_pJd3Tpv7MUWAFshqVwanHFjZhU07Nw5o-zIWGyuDJYia-hfOXoS4ySy1DWFU93VvPsy2w_KNySD0URvohsu4V0YHPRPXm5R5P2PeSIx2OWo17fiY5JO9CORAwXn2EuU3HkrQJu_aGs3wOqrXMZBwS8Cx4gl1sXi2w/s320/IMG_1840.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>And there we have it, back to Sittingbourne for snacks and bed. Back to some kind of normality tomorrow on the Tuesday .... buses running, pubs opening when they should, bliss.</div><div><br /></div><div>See you on Thursday most probably for that one (unless the GBG plops onto my doormat tomorrow morning, we can dream).</div><div><br /></div><div>Si </div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-70879802795140207292022-10-17T21:11:00.002+01:002022-10-17T21:14:38.413+01:00BRAPA IS ..... LYING-IN-STEAK (BAKE) : Kenty was Plenty Part 4/11 State Funeral Special<p>Ticking on a Bank Holiday Monday is generally the hardest of days to be a pub ticker. But a Bank Holiday Monday due to a State funeral? Peak difficulty levels. Impossible to predict what pubs would be open.</p><p>Nearly every GBG pub in Kent has a Facebook page. The problem is, hardly any of them update it. And when they do, it is with useless stuff like Jazzy Geoff has won tonight's quiz, a red bobble hat has been handed in, calamari rings are now on the menu or a kitten has gone missing in Snodland. 'Pub opening hours? Why would we update those?'</p><p>It wasn't worth getting out of bed til 11am. I showered and breakfasted slowly, popped on my Sittingbourne Travelodge TV where the coffin's progress was in full swing, and I sat down to plan where I could possibly go pubbing.</p><p>It was enough to throw anyone out of their Keto regime.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH3-YRVNiT5woxX6xX-tDj7fJe0SCWLJ5OPKeSIqpUHXP69GbB_LCMKxS_3y66Iay2aYRMeEBxIciKmkMCGhQAYtJTBtHpEaIHcdMSdgrmlFsSTiLVUODJsFjiuuS5A7-pSDIfMnsJhs9zv3h1jyMB2mqwtcViwHLp02F8Zz1F7BCST1Q46juUOB_o9g/s3077/IMG_1794.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3077" data-original-width="2666" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH3-YRVNiT5woxX6xX-tDj7fJe0SCWLJ5OPKeSIqpUHXP69GbB_LCMKxS_3y66Iay2aYRMeEBxIciKmkMCGhQAYtJTBtHpEaIHcdMSdgrmlFsSTiLVUODJsFjiuuS5A7-pSDIfMnsJhs9zv3h1jyMB2mqwtcViwHLp02F8Zz1F7BCST1Q46juUOB_o9g/s320/IMG_1794.HEIC" width="277" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFNcbPVJDLpZ2ng-uDb5i-8pdXBuaIqoeoVl-ZpTo-ghhPDM5jRWPZWxdIqQ2q0R1nyTleb2fsKKrpjTw_fdM4nxzHTdmSb9T9Mq0q4zt7JPhZlt0yeC6dFKDBFht4_Ulo49UE5BbBCSqed8moGNQAeuI7ltIf1BC7XxqE4EG2Utv_wXotIFRVqxrFpw/s3024/IMG_1796.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2874" data-original-width="3024" height="304" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFNcbPVJDLpZ2ng-uDb5i-8pdXBuaIqoeoVl-ZpTo-ghhPDM5jRWPZWxdIqQ2q0R1nyTleb2fsKKrpjTw_fdM4nxzHTdmSb9T9Mq0q4zt7JPhZlt0yeC6dFKDBFht4_Ulo49UE5BbBCSqed8moGNQAeuI7ltIf1BC7XxqE4EG2Utv_wXotIFRVqxrFpw/s320/IMG_1796.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Maidstone had been my initial plan, but when #PubWoman Pauline Sharp told me the Thirsty Pig wasn't opening til 4pm (not listed anywhere I could see online), I lost confidence. The other two ticks I needed were giving nothing away.</p><p>The North Kent coast seemed sensible with its plentiful train route going west. But being mainly micros which rarely open Monday's as a rule, there wasn't much cause for optimism here either. I researched 11 pubs going out as far as Margate, only 4 looked semi-likely. </p><p>To give you an idea of what I was up against, one pub posted "we are opening today as a mark of respect" whilst another wrote "we will be closed all day as a mark of respect". </p><p>I hope Charles 3 lives til about 120 and all those Duchy organic biscuits are life-giving cos I don't wanna go through this again for another 40 years. </p><p>But then I struck on a plan I'd not even considered. CANTERBURY. It had specific information on 4 of its 5 pubs almost certainly being open. Gawd bless you Canterbury GBG pubs. </p><p>Okay, so the Archbishop was otherwise engaged preventing him from giving me the 'Audience with BRAPA' he'd have conducted under normal circumstances, but them's the breaks. </p><p>I arrive in town to find a typically Kentish busy one way system. I had to walk five minutes in the wrong direction, just to find a crossing point, and then a subway, and finally, it became the pretty town full of tourists a bit like York that I'd been expecting.</p><p>Three Americans hovered outside pub one got in my way. I loitered patiently until they decided the place looked too full. Too full? I'd not been expecting that today.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_X_6iaek8YTAu6kHQydAGf4z65x_GycFKA5j30_MKQeniSnwXUfgmSOcOvO6aCyuaEIWOXlJ4w5tz-psouhGRn5dkaq840Ij2UBd3cLwoGXIsgusktmH4Ng9EKuL78sduNSB7vHTBFp3glkvWkZ23GOpomzA0bZJOtWwh2hjyN8Tu68jAKeHHNrjhA/s4032/IMG_1797.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK_X_6iaek8YTAu6kHQydAGf4z65x_GycFKA5j30_MKQeniSnwXUfgmSOcOvO6aCyuaEIWOXlJ4w5tz-psouhGRn5dkaq840Ij2UBd3cLwoGXIsgusktmH4Ng9EKuL78sduNSB7vHTBFp3glkvWkZ23GOpomzA0bZJOtWwh2hjyN8Tu68jAKeHHNrjhA/s320/IMG_1797.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYlYxZ9fq_vC88gF0x47Lk4vsmg48itAcIO0cDnJSQjv1kywyG-ixxHTE2k6oWRNOTNy9nRbHvpumdOZwcNn3k4wyrvN3ABJMuZltFjt5qN6VCcvUI-BQt7VWoLacyfvh-wEGCdFR1pWWFOTupr8ayD-REVyR77IDo8itQFIMehGXZnQedcLnODnfVxQ/s4032/IMG_1798.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYlYxZ9fq_vC88gF0x47Lk4vsmg48itAcIO0cDnJSQjv1kywyG-ixxHTE2k6oWRNOTNy9nRbHvpumdOZwcNn3k4wyrvN3ABJMuZltFjt5qN6VCcvUI-BQt7VWoLacyfvh-wEGCdFR1pWWFOTupr8ayD-REVyR77IDo8itQFIMehGXZnQedcLnODnfVxQ/s320/IMG_1798.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>'Please wait to be seated'. Ugh, I hoped those days had gone. But glancing past the blackboard, wow the tourists weren't wrong, every seat was taken ......</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOhmAWxshGMGCyHqZFexflT9VRfu6wg4ZFK_W4CAud0DxiC985U1ToiyYB6XSyxrm1CgKagfTTebbaqHWdRs212ah-RaM12zFKqVBU9TUWn1NpJKopixAdacCNpyztAIjGnND6IVQbvve0o-7N_yqk_nydnJqsApareJ1XwAQhyqbHu4P-MFzIp1rcA/s4032/IMG_1799.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOhmAWxshGMGCyHqZFexflT9VRfu6wg4ZFK_W4CAud0DxiC985U1ToiyYB6XSyxrm1CgKagfTTebbaqHWdRs212ah-RaM12zFKqVBU9TUWn1NpJKopixAdacCNpyztAIjGnND6IVQbvve0o-7N_yqk_nydnJqsApareJ1XwAQhyqbHu4P-MFzIp1rcA/s320/IMG_1799.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><b>Foundry Brew Pub, Canterbury (2393 / 3957) </b>was the name, serving local beers and looking suspiciously like a restaurant is their game. "I just want a drink" I wail hopefully to a Competent Olly Murs (COM) who bounded over, tongue half out, to seat me. He takes me down some steps and I'm seated all on my lonesome in the 'brewery area'. An old couple glance back and stare, worried they are missing out on a better experience, so I try and look important. COM passes me a laminated beer menu, I pick a pint of 'Gold' as it is cask and not too strong, and when he brings my beer, I beg him to let me pay now as I won't be staying for another as "I'm on a bit of a mission" (a line I've not rolled out since the 'Lockdown Years'). He acquiesces and soon I'm left with just spooky blackboard Santa for company. Nothing happens, because I'm not even within earshot of anybody, but on a day I was particularly nervous about getting into the pubs, this place raises my hopes of a decent day ahead.<br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YrziDd4ayWlJt4ItTWyDD_Dsufwm3HlsfDylT0SXMI_zfw7uIHwWiDC0ldJKkf93f50ZPUYxZlpQi4zyq3r1atUPDZleAvNew3z4cr-h_-qGBBOHlI3DfRvT2yRMPdpaanTRuf5nJ2uULJahBBKx6dACKRwyLTTUf9AMzzUjmxHqT6Nwph3tGsfBwg/s4032/IMG_1802.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6YrziDd4ayWlJt4ItTWyDD_Dsufwm3HlsfDylT0SXMI_zfw7uIHwWiDC0ldJKkf93f50ZPUYxZlpQi4zyq3r1atUPDZleAvNew3z4cr-h_-qGBBOHlI3DfRvT2yRMPdpaanTRuf5nJ2uULJahBBKx6dACKRwyLTTUf9AMzzUjmxHqT6Nwph3tGsfBwg/s320/IMG_1802.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfkabvylT0pXS2q_QofwZcdL9AAdyJ3wNtS1dP81xJ4XJo3kIpzqXDUt3y8BIrLmbZM9_xOdMvbP7_G2XrkIqQMPuJxKuAE6B2_EjnmjjTHFN2BZwMIsbwZBvQhg12cXLzsqMU9uCsbYd08w_nJ3X_p1WbkDS3ZP4uhmzB24ssk8qMxz7dqQUqMqw7g/s2841/IMG_1801.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1705" data-original-width="2841" height="192" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisfkabvylT0pXS2q_QofwZcdL9AAdyJ3wNtS1dP81xJ4XJo3kIpzqXDUt3y8BIrLmbZM9_xOdMvbP7_G2XrkIqQMPuJxKuAE6B2_EjnmjjTHFN2BZwMIsbwZBvQhg12cXLzsqMU9uCsbYd08w_nJ3X_p1WbkDS3ZP4uhmzB24ssk8qMxz7dqQUqMqw7g/s320/IMG_1801.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1QpXvJDHLW4_-qE2hpgn9mF-PcuA7qz5taHusof8JiP5ZluvyYq1q8jxSaRcDYJr5mFyFplwn1h7npNcKr2-cqWAi9diA83fZZjbtoEXK7gn3ieHmGGR-A0KE8_Nr4YtdHHZVaVjJJjYOun3RQLTliG6y1_7ifbHivGQccxssolXbHn2ModPJzQyzaw/s4032/IMG_1800.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1QpXvJDHLW4_-qE2hpgn9mF-PcuA7qz5taHusof8JiP5ZluvyYq1q8jxSaRcDYJr5mFyFplwn1h7npNcKr2-cqWAi9diA83fZZjbtoEXK7gn3ieHmGGR-A0KE8_Nr4YtdHHZVaVjJJjYOun3RQLTliG6y1_7ifbHivGQccxssolXbHn2ModPJzQyzaw/s320/IMG_1800.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><p>Next up, on a pretty street full of timber framed creaky old buildings and more milling tourists, I found pub two. It deserves special BRAPA commendation for specifically saying that whilst their kitchen is closed, you can come in and watch the funeral i.e. they are open for drinks. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu9VY4HKw6S4zV51PIXvBSndFTetWboHz1qnAhtkpNJjZSaWsdcHBhDx7E9m-z2UHT2O_Q0wVgb6MDUbTFSqcafzTXXh-QeNAIop46ISX3Hbl0s3W_JKnFjuLZ4GtxbmqHVhDOyG_3NyIkLeI15DTu5Ctra8eqw6UhrnuXMJ7ey1ttKvHS9_QySZbVTA/s3468/IMG_1803.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3468" data-original-width="2775" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu9VY4HKw6S4zV51PIXvBSndFTetWboHz1qnAhtkpNJjZSaWsdcHBhDx7E9m-z2UHT2O_Q0wVgb6MDUbTFSqcafzTXXh-QeNAIop46ISX3Hbl0s3W_JKnFjuLZ4GtxbmqHVhDOyG_3NyIkLeI15DTu5Ctra8eqw6UhrnuXMJ7ey1ttKvHS9_QySZbVTA/s320/IMG_1803.HEIC" width="256" /></a></div>And what a beauty the <b>Unicorn, Canterbury (2394 / 3958) </b>almost was<b> </b>with its carpetted, cosy, bench seating, sunken, historic feel. Bar billiards players to the back, and small huddle of folk to the right watching the procession, and free grief nibbles on the bar, which I made a mental note of. Don't look too desperate too soon when it comes to free pub snacks. Problem was, the ale. My Gadds No. 5 started off fabulously, though I was a bit surprised when it didn't clear. When I overheard mine host telling two men it'd just gone, it started to make sense. I was more the halfway down when it took on a decidedly ropey taste. And to think I'd heard the men bemoaning the fact they'd have to pick something else! Surely any sane person would prefer a fresh top of barrel beer they weren't so keen on (we'll say Doom Bar as that gets slated most) rather the bottom of a barrel beer they favour? Yes lads, you actually dodged a bullet. Yet again, I'd ignored the Oakham Citra and had been punished. A young lad is lurking around the free nibbles. 'Don't be shy, take some more!' the landlord encourages him. Well, the little twild blighter only goes and fills up his empty crisp packet with mini sausage rolls! This was my cue to get myself over there, before he takes the whole lot. A lady who has witnessed the same incident is chuckling about it and recounting it to her friends who'd had their eyes glued to the screen. I cannot finish my ale, but grab a triangle sandwich on my way out. "One for the road!" I call over to previously chuckling woman. I expect her to chuckle some more, but she simply sits there open mouthed. I'll bring an empty crisp packet back here when Charles 3 carks it. <div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJm4GyJHrEMgEXqJhvG_4JOYWxI9c4WGlwZOjOtdj3DMWnKjNjzvuWeWTrxGDOraBgsUsY0l0uswdRjDVjV1rFuPlf0RxcGg5a4eRTs0Z6oUSuU61YDceKRxPT0o8uQzFrvDrhSPCYypYGF5NxBE7o0w1CzlI-Enp0jqqRcC_vHr4KVonguI2wsbF8w/s3551/IMG_1804.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3551" data-original-width="2814" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixJm4GyJHrEMgEXqJhvG_4JOYWxI9c4WGlwZOjOtdj3DMWnKjNjzvuWeWTrxGDOraBgsUsY0l0uswdRjDVjV1rFuPlf0RxcGg5a4eRTs0Z6oUSuU61YDceKRxPT0o8uQzFrvDrhSPCYypYGF5NxBE7o0w1CzlI-Enp0jqqRcC_vHr4KVonguI2wsbF8w/s320/IMG_1804.HEIC" width="254" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeP-qjcEpcYXCc_NLX2jKqwElHd1Sa18a9wh0b2_l4CSk_Gkf8rrhDOUZzcmKtOSoLAEnrRCBIOd3Gxut0WZSmfY2-l4DrRUbm-WCgBgDHL2FX3BCQP8K-C8yTMIrcsk-8valNUKJcZ3ni3WRXnf1rXA6J58cCIlJBOyViTVGynEmsl-m6NK2_RPExw/s2889/IMG_1806.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2889" data-original-width="2283" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTeP-qjcEpcYXCc_NLX2jKqwElHd1Sa18a9wh0b2_l4CSk_Gkf8rrhDOUZzcmKtOSoLAEnrRCBIOd3Gxut0WZSmfY2-l4DrRUbm-WCgBgDHL2FX3BCQP8K-C8yTMIrcsk-8valNUKJcZ3ni3WRXnf1rXA6J58cCIlJBOyViTVGynEmsl-m6NK2_RPExw/s320/IMG_1806.HEIC" width="253" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaN5hRvrqRE2uXVkjYwEIrFxJI9701YWAh4RO8atqSW5npf-M1eLL7L2HFQueo2Hxf93sRNEn_VZ0RtZpLz4qkQ74WxHcj6Ptc3NoOQ2OgPsU3nDnvLCs7TWFA1P9rJF0aftMqfUnr5fkyBVPaZtJlajndzKXNoiOaJidACQM0Uc65nfu2eZlWY6lPyA/s3816/IMG_1807.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3816" data-original-width="3021" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaN5hRvrqRE2uXVkjYwEIrFxJI9701YWAh4RO8atqSW5npf-M1eLL7L2HFQueo2Hxf93sRNEn_VZ0RtZpLz4qkQ74WxHcj6Ptc3NoOQ2OgPsU3nDnvLCs7TWFA1P9rJF0aftMqfUnr5fkyBVPaZtJlajndzKXNoiOaJidACQM0Uc65nfu2eZlWY6lPyA/s320/IMG_1807.HEIC" width="253" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEJZOd8VbTp0gpDpltlzMRwF82mRastgpUmd6CRrlgAVQVO0JFFjZsmm406vE0KfgFfCwP44pHbtWnvKgEHIpaYtHxaQ0ZGCWpJHYAeOngRobH20tnrH4HHg2UlKLp9ddTQ1cnJ2gDuNG9NR4TNP__HkN6MEQ175kjVU8zjww1JdU3oa2HIldSTS-lw/s2999/IMG_1808.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2999" data-original-width="2966" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvEJZOd8VbTp0gpDpltlzMRwF82mRastgpUmd6CRrlgAVQVO0JFFjZsmm406vE0KfgFfCwP44pHbtWnvKgEHIpaYtHxaQ0ZGCWpJHYAeOngRobH20tnrH4HHg2UlKLp9ddTQ1cnJ2gDuNG9NR4TNP__HkN6MEQ175kjVU8zjww1JdU3oa2HIldSTS-lw/s320/IMG_1808.HEIC" width="316" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5Octa5-Sdad3XPgNUdedVSSEbKZfthqjo448_ErpsPm2rr5jFD-ZYgfxbnqif73guVbvEby4SLSRMB_c31wAHwMIinAATpjGx9r2j_tq8OmABDycqMvIalie3YLU6Z4vO3_ZfSu4OEJhx1Db9dPAV9mclppMqs3dHEjtYFNfWiDmibs2eM_2b0Iogg/s4032/IMG_1809.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ5Octa5-Sdad3XPgNUdedVSSEbKZfthqjo448_ErpsPm2rr5jFD-ZYgfxbnqif73guVbvEby4SLSRMB_c31wAHwMIinAATpjGx9r2j_tq8OmABDycqMvIalie3YLU6Z4vO3_ZfSu4OEJhx1Db9dPAV9mclppMqs3dHEjtYFNfWiDmibs2eM_2b0Iogg/s320/IMG_1809.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />One pub left in this part, and our Canterbury progress takes us into the backstreets. I find the pub staring back at me, and through the entrance door, a moth eaten little mutt and a lady watching me intently.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83m6SrGIExcfFJCODKXxmDB3hhKu4H68hnU-tVdoTc8Nq8kCrBCiJOFm3hnGmA7CtTkj2QsHGqUKMOrAQp6AH72NDwm7zYoaNTj7lL4EAmKSjuxSeX6xx6ptylT-iq_5btjq09tNF0FIPE27RDVgQvM99zPuigfwfg1riqb0NtfKhGs0lcHi12q7CMQ/s3072/IMG_1811.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3072" data-original-width="2664" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83m6SrGIExcfFJCODKXxmDB3hhKu4H68hnU-tVdoTc8Nq8kCrBCiJOFm3hnGmA7CtTkj2QsHGqUKMOrAQp6AH72NDwm7zYoaNTj7lL4EAmKSjuxSeX6xx6ptylT-iq_5btjq09tNF0FIPE27RDVgQvM99zPuigfwfg1riqb0NtfKhGs0lcHi12q7CMQ/s320/IMG_1811.HEIC" width="278" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipl_6b5eJf3JqJA4DzkrotkwA6SlnSRFNw0F_riRbcSz4ZRi9QxUWbl7TqNgazPPy_VaWZ67Qn0I6ApPG13OU5lKRhUBxEoMor5X8gGS5N6vWfBo_ValZCfUY0pDah6moyYLBDRLPm2r_Iq3gKtvq2Jk0cm-B0lZ8xAr-oo1T5VWeflxWQJGuNdJrKCA/s2954/IMG_1812.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2831" data-original-width="2954" height="307" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipl_6b5eJf3JqJA4DzkrotkwA6SlnSRFNw0F_riRbcSz4ZRi9QxUWbl7TqNgazPPy_VaWZ67Qn0I6ApPG13OU5lKRhUBxEoMor5X8gGS5N6vWfBo_ValZCfUY0pDah6moyYLBDRLPm2r_Iq3gKtvq2Jk0cm-B0lZ8xAr-oo1T5VWeflxWQJGuNdJrKCA/s320/IMG_1812.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><b>Eight Bells, Canterbury (2395 / 3959) </b>must be the most 'local' of all the town's GBG entries. A couple of elderly ladies, a bloke who might be married to one, and a younger lady all watch with some curiosity as I order a Young's Original, the only cask on, it is decent but not a beer I find crazy southern. Having spied the remnants of more free grief snacks (Angel and Battenberg slices, a cake, and some tiny egg n cress sandwiches), I position myself strategically around the corner, but I'm soon 'invited' into the main area so I can watch the slow procession up the Mall. It'd feel rude not to move, so I do. Problem is, they watch the coverage like hawks, very little said, bloke tries the odd joke. It is all a bit awkward. They finally all need a ciggie en masse and stand outside the front door. I nip to the outdoor loos, what a beautiful little area with fish, plants and scarecrows. I'm eyeing up the snack remnants when the gang return, so I ask if I can partake, they agree but not in a "oooh yes, help yourself luv, they'll only go to waste" kinda way I was expecting, more in a "oh go on then you outsider" way. The food has obviously been out since 10:30am, it is very dry around the edges but still edible. It really feel like the ingredients were in place for this pub to really welcome me into the bosom of their little community, and yet it never happened. As I got up to leave, the all round sense of relief was palpable. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhiI8XiXpO8R5NCfCInoMSTkun1hXT6emTPnPs8fRQ0aS0Ox2CIOr1oe99dL1Iraduw1B_f0JRc330Skuamwj2mcGf-YmFaPQHxtbtSjxk7zncd7w6zDGja49gHReql34ZnpHE5tG30lZyw8E8xSwS689lWytpuQMM9ySP2dNP1xmz5tUlcJw4Wg4BYA/s4032/IMG_1813.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhiI8XiXpO8R5NCfCInoMSTkun1hXT6emTPnPs8fRQ0aS0Ox2CIOr1oe99dL1Iraduw1B_f0JRc330Skuamwj2mcGf-YmFaPQHxtbtSjxk7zncd7w6zDGja49gHReql34ZnpHE5tG30lZyw8E8xSwS689lWytpuQMM9ySP2dNP1xmz5tUlcJw4Wg4BYA/s320/IMG_1813.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvMlT0FyuXlfUI9dDumxXTK431lm6uEpszyu1OtdVL8qsjY3jFgblc8gDa7-nhZVsyizO-Js84XbWv-BWt99opdc9fbee48RIJ_Xu6f4KuNyzYAO9DvMHvsD0G6DPmkR1-6WApkQqAfi7XLMk7--_kQ_TXpE4htIPcnSPzW0YXkJQ3kk81xm5Ctzl7Sw/s4032/IMG_1814.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvMlT0FyuXlfUI9dDumxXTK431lm6uEpszyu1OtdVL8qsjY3jFgblc8gDa7-nhZVsyizO-Js84XbWv-BWt99opdc9fbee48RIJ_Xu6f4KuNyzYAO9DvMHvsD0G6DPmkR1-6WApkQqAfi7XLMk7--_kQ_TXpE4htIPcnSPzW0YXkJQ3kk81xm5Ctzl7Sw/s320/IMG_1814.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LjDnz1u6Y_BEOGEsb7PSphHXq8eKnEl5nih-ABnnhGkrzKAa0sAmfN0LA-j-5tSxJf-vP4xdWx_jUX-bzJY60KL_JIzeuRr5583I4zKKwLvNWnxkdpQxiVsShj1jzYj_xQINqpKDqs7LN7_dB_6r0zPez0vIjVgow7xfIfDGfP7UVzLfNq1pZWisAw/s4032/IMG_1815.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6LjDnz1u6Y_BEOGEsb7PSphHXq8eKnEl5nih-ABnnhGkrzKAa0sAmfN0LA-j-5tSxJf-vP4xdWx_jUX-bzJY60KL_JIzeuRr5583I4zKKwLvNWnxkdpQxiVsShj1jzYj_xQINqpKDqs7LN7_dB_6r0zPez0vIjVgow7xfIfDGfP7UVzLfNq1pZWisAw/s320/IMG_1815.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYVzhc2gKKBhdG3ai5KjSAzh5UisjbioAmE6qmPrz9WwVVzZhDYQmm1m9BHu6EF8m-51zLVcOX2SA2Xw1TOIRCKKOoZNWg8EknwqZhy4VlbMXhdLCRBIpg545jWTmTb8tr-FbnusCik8SurDZMWgdbPllrwtvSukd4pw0mu34VgRf1WlBLi1h1otA1xQ/s4032/IMG_1816.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYVzhc2gKKBhdG3ai5KjSAzh5UisjbioAmE6qmPrz9WwVVzZhDYQmm1m9BHu6EF8m-51zLVcOX2SA2Xw1TOIRCKKOoZNWg8EknwqZhy4VlbMXhdLCRBIpg545jWTmTb8tr-FbnusCik8SurDZMWgdbPllrwtvSukd4pw0mu34VgRf1WlBLi1h1otA1xQ/s320/IMG_1816.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1j6BIIrSeaqgUP1D9RNVW30pmctvOIo56rwKuBZKy-3qnDzsssyJElt5deyQr9SiRuyjLSVzi7BMjd1V8-19WhPsZn4RVin2UFjAhX0DujW62H5SOQ0HZsT5ONp-OmcvQ8bmKVn5826HKyhfHEuZ_wo-tHxjzQYe0GBK7I97glgPIbVBQgRoT5mZCg/s4032/IMG_1817.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZ1j6BIIrSeaqgUP1D9RNVW30pmctvOIo56rwKuBZKy-3qnDzsssyJElt5deyQr9SiRuyjLSVzi7BMjd1V8-19WhPsZn4RVin2UFjAhX0DujW62H5SOQ0HZsT5ONp-OmcvQ8bmKVn5826HKyhfHEuZ_wo-tHxjzQYe0GBK7I97glgPIbVBQgRoT5mZCg/s320/IMG_1817.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>The one Canterbury pub I was convinced wouldn't be open was their micro, the Thomas Tallis Alehouse. It doesn't normally open Monday and their Facebook wasn't suggesting anything to the contrary. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained.</div><div><br /></div><div>And once it came into view, I noticed not only were all the windows open, but there was a light on too.</div><div>Ooooh, could I be lucky? </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8WZ1F94IxelnfkZnT-6yq45fiFu3THjKjn-VPwtZT9gDWzKF3LGBRG60i09vPOQYFvS3KO2v_SyhENml7_gsK3kt1o_UMV2-QI28_LWz3T1LrEuBKmd6geNYMwvPFXA9L1SpTJ03kHCxLgqngW8MkQ6WqNJknXCCqVKepUvv0Kn6LUWzl0b6NMEXDw/s4032/IMG_1818.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG8WZ1F94IxelnfkZnT-6yq45fiFu3THjKjn-VPwtZT9gDWzKF3LGBRG60i09vPOQYFvS3KO2v_SyhENml7_gsK3kt1o_UMV2-QI28_LWz3T1LrEuBKmd6geNYMwvPFXA9L1SpTJ03kHCxLgqngW8MkQ6WqNJknXCCqVKepUvv0Kn6LUWzl0b6NMEXDw/s320/IMG_1818.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div>I stick my head through the open window, there is a lady mopping the floor. "Are you opening today?" I ask, making her jump out of her skin, but she tells me no. It's the hope that kills you in this game. </div><div><br /></div><div>I need a pre-emptive as my other nailed on Canterbury tick, the New Inn, isn't opening until 5:30pm which I know because Katrina said so on Facebook which means a brownie point for that pub before I'd even arrived.</div><div><br /></div><div>Luckily, local #PubWoman Pauline Sharp had recently been on a Canterbury pub tour and listed a few she found decent. One was just a few yards away, best give it a try ....</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAj9a6qz8HWmhBlFoJVKD5y1igLtcbGAznHRLJ5JGL6YvUZ86NEnwSJVk3UAgvAbQch0O68RXMQpL0zjBI4xl6C_skplf3TfhuxtYt6tfaEeY4Pm_J3WebfoI7nI6w8ZQ3yK3nstDYTGA4ilUaIrW0mmYAc6nOdnwX09Up_KW4kmLO_oT9uT8TN0f9jw/s4032/IMG_1819.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAj9a6qz8HWmhBlFoJVKD5y1igLtcbGAznHRLJ5JGL6YvUZ86NEnwSJVk3UAgvAbQch0O68RXMQpL0zjBI4xl6C_skplf3TfhuxtYt6tfaEeY4Pm_J3WebfoI7nI6w8ZQ3yK3nstDYTGA4ilUaIrW0mmYAc6nOdnwX09Up_KW4kmLO_oT9uT8TN0f9jw/w150-h200/IMG_1819.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><div><b>Bell & Crown, Canterbury </b>might've worried me from the outside with its Cruzcampo outdoor nonsense, but inside, particularly to the front left, I find a wholly unspoilt corner, with just enough space for one man and his cauli. Okay, so a couple of weird posh men appear and practically sit on my face but what do you expect from a non GBG listed pub? Less face-sitting, more attention to cask, and you too might make the GBG. The ales are decent actually, four of them. I go for a Canterbury Ale (the Friar's Tale if you care, most are named after Chaucer's blogs), shame it has no head but I guess we couldn't be much more southern than Canterbury. Piped sixties music turned up to 11 is totally uncalled for, and not even good sixties like Vernon Girls Funny All Over - I always feel loud piped music is a sign of a pub that doesn't have enough confidence in itself. I'm a bit upset at the lack of free funeral snacks - funny how quickly you get acclimatised to a new way of pubbing isn't it? In conclusion, reminds me of an inferior version of a Cambridge pub such as Free Press or Champion of the Thames.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhACB_9utX-DrIWFExnVMkkK-iOxCGD9sTFdujHkeTUDxNr_LsQeYPfnzYQZAcUHWRJMC7IwSwmwK8HbNqWMocx9Wnmk6NBWrjwW_II7dVSEgybiFZnV6wKLXy0knHKLrVW_1I8FP-4eDwA-Ndxs9jboKqkflpYZK-v7HFUXsvpnjgvGo3a_fCYUqEf4w/s3087/IMG_1820.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3087" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhACB_9utX-DrIWFExnVMkkK-iOxCGD9sTFdujHkeTUDxNr_LsQeYPfnzYQZAcUHWRJMC7IwSwmwK8HbNqWMocx9Wnmk6NBWrjwW_II7dVSEgybiFZnV6wKLXy0knHKLrVW_1I8FP-4eDwA-Ndxs9jboKqkflpYZK-v7HFUXsvpnjgvGo3a_fCYUqEf4w/s320/IMG_1820.HEIC" width="313" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cR7Efk0DY3NDy18h_719fb0KtcI05JycYe6heVoAbMKmjnWV76_Z8cbIL7mFRp-NGGMizF5WJ0TpmM3r0zjq0ZH-ws4YlHgxQ7SgnZsK6gcTo31R7tfu_B_HKO3z0BLxPNQdc9YIlUwXhVHhm-vwIeHFS7o2KDe-pFIAwpq-jYXLeZdYEDFsSj61Rw/s4032/IMG_1821.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cR7Efk0DY3NDy18h_719fb0KtcI05JycYe6heVoAbMKmjnWV76_Z8cbIL7mFRp-NGGMizF5WJ0TpmM3r0zjq0ZH-ws4YlHgxQ7SgnZsK6gcTo31R7tfu_B_HKO3z0BLxPNQdc9YIlUwXhVHhm-vwIeHFS7o2KDe-pFIAwpq-jYXLeZdYEDFsSj61Rw/s320/IMG_1821.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtEqOhPWoAgmghypeU1Qn1q5-e0Ma6I0g8qZRxwuSj-FWOrvfyBTehnL5f_uBk3YvKG58gZnRSbikn0SJ9PHJhOxa4aJa9ojwidtrAmJZBfUlKZJBLNWu525jwvXTqdXX9z1Db_gQRU4BOXeEN35moOy9AjPAKTlIR3smBdUvjLUI204BSs_c3rOGjqg/s4032/IMG_1822.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtEqOhPWoAgmghypeU1Qn1q5-e0Ma6I0g8qZRxwuSj-FWOrvfyBTehnL5f_uBk3YvKG58gZnRSbikn0SJ9PHJhOxa4aJa9ojwidtrAmJZBfUlKZJBLNWu525jwvXTqdXX9z1Db_gQRU4BOXeEN35moOy9AjPAKTlIR3smBdUvjLUI204BSs_c3rOGjqg/s320/IMG_1822.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Back same time tomorrow to tell you about the rest of this crazy day. </div><div><br /></div><div>Still no GBG .... still no word of anyone in the south receiving it either, someone wise suspected the postal strikes might be the reason (my ticket for Hull City's 2-0 defeat v Birmingham still hasn't arrived so there might be something in it!) </div><div><br /></div><div>Sweet dreams, Si </div><div> <br /><p><br /></p><p><br /></p></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-13242313935032442302022-10-13T20:58:00.003+01:002022-10-13T20:58:36.464+01:00BRAPA is .... PUTTING THE SNORT IN KINGSNORTH (Kenty was Plenty Pt 3/11) <p>Kingsnorth is a village just south of evil Ashford. Village might be a bit generous, it feels in danger of being swallowed up by the arsehole of mid Kent. </p><p>But more importantly, it contains a GBG pub on the bus route back up from Tenterden, where I'd had mixed fortunes which you might or might not have read about in part 2.</p><p>I was fascinated by the <b>Queen's Head, Kingsnorth (2390 / 3954) </b>before I'd even arrived.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCakaAgSGjTTxYvuly6Oytm8lWFUQVO8wZ-K-eP5rMNZPfbMYEu31nGtJg4eezUL-9Mduyfm-CKnevppeA9_2T5_XV-RwXy1XcEA0_g0tImxaNyJ2bhKRiS-cwY0JFjElFfEoMlvFXnYCb9joqyibiC7YhTRSq1kLQ8Kqq9O9j6UHIz_BxWmoJqyjVg/s3565/IMG_1778.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3565" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBCakaAgSGjTTxYvuly6Oytm8lWFUQVO8wZ-K-eP5rMNZPfbMYEu31nGtJg4eezUL-9Mduyfm-CKnevppeA9_2T5_XV-RwXy1XcEA0_g0tImxaNyJ2bhKRiS-cwY0JFjElFfEoMlvFXnYCb9joqyibiC7YhTRSq1kLQ8Kqq9O9j6UHIz_BxWmoJqyjVg/s320/IMG_1778.HEIC" width="271" /></a></div><br /><p>On the bus down much earlier in the day, the pub you see above looked well and truly shut at a time when it should be open. Worrying. </p><p>But Queen's Head had an active Facebook page (rare for Kent pubs, I'd soon discover) where half the time, they sound like they are trying to force fun and events on the local community. Admirable. The problem with forced fun is that it never works. The locals didn't appear to be reciprocating. And the pub would then post their disappointment, like admonishing naughty school children.</p><p>Live bands had been cancelled of late ('there's nothing more disheartening than expecting someone to play to an empty room'). Today, they'd invited the locals to join them on some green outdoor area in Kingsnorth to commemorate the Queen's passing. The plan then was 'all back to the pub' for a complimentary glass of something sparkling. A nice idea in theory. But not ONE villager had showed. </p><p>The pub posted their disapproval .... a post which I noticed had been deleted before I arrived.</p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsxqKQRJ6CVmlHRf-bj_0e01yzY1J0OGGrNSQeh0VXZY4bTKFCRuEWm-KImCOwpM8No0ICvPr-mz8UFQr3WAPT__0mK9QEdW1pTTbxBXi2PXt35AtK0Db-L1Y4GiRHhHAMUAB6dhwA36Gvx-fjHYtiqo7a8r553iMSN-pRfC13fFwZflwIvHrdUKzIgg/s988/IMG_1767.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="988" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsxqKQRJ6CVmlHRf-bj_0e01yzY1J0OGGrNSQeh0VXZY4bTKFCRuEWm-KImCOwpM8No0ICvPr-mz8UFQr3WAPT__0mK9QEdW1pTTbxBXi2PXt35AtK0Db-L1Y4GiRHhHAMUAB6dhwA36Gvx-fjHYtiqo7a8r553iMSN-pRfC13fFwZflwIvHrdUKzIgg/s320/IMG_1767.PNG" width="243" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And I never did see lickle Mr & Mrs Gnome!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p>So it was something of a gamble even getting off the bus. But thankfully, QH was not only open, but heaving. A real community hub feel ran through the place. Had the locals guilt tripped themselves into it? Or is it always like this Sunday afternoon? In any case, the pub must've been buoyed by the turn out. My photos don't reflect how busy it was, but I did wholly accidentally (please believe me) twice photograph this same barmaid who kept following me from room to room, hence why she's in two shots. I told her 'lovely to see such a busy pub ... ooh, and a pool table too!' to take the edge off, and she thanked me. The Chinook by Butcombe drank well, and that was that.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBdTIzzbsxR_w_3260OKdeLxcuckkWodh6Y6nnEeHlZIP6ZPuuFjhblsXP8PwZkDw5nV9s1xmPX5pCPdex3BMUh9hME2r0ngbtdran6P01nHtyd2Yneb8UKSo5TRUk2hFvF9p32L3Yy_VV7Aplp3PoEJBizOrE9Od9wP-n3whVP7Dhj7gsFz7hC5KXgQ/s4032/IMG_1779.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBdTIzzbsxR_w_3260OKdeLxcuckkWodh6Y6nnEeHlZIP6ZPuuFjhblsXP8PwZkDw5nV9s1xmPX5pCPdex3BMUh9hME2r0ngbtdran6P01nHtyd2Yneb8UKSo5TRUk2hFvF9p32L3Yy_VV7Aplp3PoEJBizOrE9Od9wP-n3whVP7Dhj7gsFz7hC5KXgQ/s320/IMG_1779.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4rC7HylhWGHWc4F4oeC5zMCM7VnuELEGoXOw_owG9_9yhLicRWqnD5Z40p3dUt1OkfeSkzcvJ0qootiY6YXln97Sj5hdIE2kdbN02U_Vil6zUueCYTxCVY4JxYnAPLJmXfC8qC6kntuUMJGu6DwcEs8pIupn3oCR7KQ44Bw5U_tOZXstIg-ZDvk-QA/s3159/IMG_1780.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3159" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB4rC7HylhWGHWc4F4oeC5zMCM7VnuELEGoXOw_owG9_9yhLicRWqnD5Z40p3dUt1OkfeSkzcvJ0qootiY6YXln97Sj5hdIE2kdbN02U_Vil6zUueCYTxCVY4JxYnAPLJmXfC8qC6kntuUMJGu6DwcEs8pIupn3oCR7KQ44Bw5U_tOZXstIg-ZDvk-QA/s320/IMG_1780.HEIC" width="306" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmER7449tBzQN2MIiMeQKzHQ2kAoiYBn5ExhlSELaY0K_iVlZ3v06gi8_6izTAeCljX8B115QKNNMvpDKt2Aqz2BTmO9DgMczB7W1o8DGth6em13KCc7XjSHJSBEz6aMmIjJ7hmNWqQkh9CL6ReU_MoOeoaIWh0goK2OfFXN5eW30xZVpgj_qFHmedg/s4032/IMG_1781.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbmER7449tBzQN2MIiMeQKzHQ2kAoiYBn5ExhlSELaY0K_iVlZ3v06gi8_6izTAeCljX8B115QKNNMvpDKt2Aqz2BTmO9DgMczB7W1o8DGth6em13KCc7XjSHJSBEz6aMmIjJ7hmNWqQkh9CL6ReU_MoOeoaIWh0goK2OfFXN5eW30xZVpgj_qFHmedg/s320/IMG_1781.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjYhIHQwEs_GV6BN9xHWkH6c5pkMgYqUzqRw-EPTRlTdGsRWDBmeHXb-yPG_2Ub0yvxZM6QnxIWl_Dcd-k69Z55kufruDitFtTeO8GHMRmJnxME9zs5UF5MvsRSnoPEEtBIINl5CnCymDbjLSiwU8m2rp2QauLVadn-wzZuwde8nubCpnDazFMxS1_g/s4032/IMG_1782.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqjYhIHQwEs_GV6BN9xHWkH6c5pkMgYqUzqRw-EPTRlTdGsRWDBmeHXb-yPG_2Ub0yvxZM6QnxIWl_Dcd-k69Z55kufruDitFtTeO8GHMRmJnxME9zs5UF5MvsRSnoPEEtBIINl5CnCymDbjLSiwU8m2rp2QauLVadn-wzZuwde8nubCpnDazFMxS1_g/s320/IMG_1782.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>It took an age to get back to Maidstone, I got a bit distracted by Ashford in bloom which surely needs to comprise more than a Harry Potter quote in a bush?</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMAw6zHP3mE-eKn8umm4CYlBRw_WZEPgaQWij-Paonkxdut1xOyTP35r6Y_ZvDKxzU9Aii3ilNqYfVtW9jIY3ToQRsmHczmIsF0yUc_VgJGhDGd1-wtbwYYuMqPpro3_xCEEfAJdW8mX2fG6omQh5b5FzZz7aDBMcNEYaFve6_KYq477jJt3vUzqVtQ/s4032/IMG_1783.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBMAw6zHP3mE-eKn8umm4CYlBRw_WZEPgaQWij-Paonkxdut1xOyTP35r6Y_ZvDKxzU9Aii3ilNqYfVtW9jIY3ToQRsmHczmIsF0yUc_VgJGhDGd1-wtbwYYuMqPpro3_xCEEfAJdW8mX2fG6omQh5b5FzZz7aDBMcNEYaFve6_KYq477jJt3vUzqVtQ/s320/IMG_1783.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><p>So which two pubs to do before heading back to my new Sittingbourne home? Tactically, I looked at those least likely to open during the working week.</p><p>Furthest walk first. #BRAPA rules. Not too far from Maidstone East in truth, hidden in da backstreets like some utter filth you'd find in East Lancs, here it was .....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtpwRgGHb34u_IypKSlzRUnTitkPAclQrHVdPzi6LvdVBnQJnJFkB7TDi4wLLKzU0XuCMbAEzdD7k8MfluDmVq3cL9OVgrlnp_jNDSDtwkOal7OcV2mlwNX29ZeBcicb_w7dPez9625nLxRM1KfT79SAeeqR6diB3XN9SEzZ2d-URgqLqjH0WEs_GP0w/s3705/IMG_1784.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3705" data-original-width="2596" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtpwRgGHb34u_IypKSlzRUnTitkPAclQrHVdPzi6LvdVBnQJnJFkB7TDi4wLLKzU0XuCMbAEzdD7k8MfluDmVq3cL9OVgrlnp_jNDSDtwkOal7OcV2mlwNX29ZeBcicb_w7dPez9625nLxRM1KfT79SAeeqR6diB3XN9SEzZ2d-URgqLqjH0WEs_GP0w/s320/IMG_1784.HEIC" width="224" /></a></div>And probably my favourite of the six, <b>Rifle Volunteers, Maidstone (2391 / 3955) </b>was the proverbial 'step back in time' which people like me, in love with an imagined romantic centuries old pub, can really appreciate. The gnarly locals were lined up, landlord welcoming, Goachers plentiful. Still an exciting 'new' brewery to me .... you know like when southerners come to Yorkshire and tell me how yummy Black Sheep Bitter is even though to me, it tastes like a fart in the mouth. I got TOLD which Goachers to drink- the Fine Light. Just out of interest, I ask if the pub is opening for Bank Holiday Queen funeral tomorrow (they normally do 5-11pm Monday) and he's like "well duh yeah, all day, it IS a Bank Holiday". That surprises a couple of listening locals too. Sadly, I'd find this wasn't a view held by a lot of pubs. The group next to me moved on from Radio Caroline & Luxembourg chats to 'Cuddly Toy' by Roachford, straddling the decades. They only notice me as I'm supping up, so we have a lovely but very rushed 3 minute BRAPA conversation. "Corrr, I wish we'd got talking sooner!" says the lady, but always good to leave the fans wanting more, so I smile sweetly and leave in a flourish (well, I got trapped in the doorway, but it was smooth otherwise). Great pub.<div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXXhhAis26q9sCS3-GArf0sARC6j8W1GafzEARyyNZmNUj7fEgWOB-T1hcedb9hp8LqqDCRmJZ2RauqnwGmbgCe2rcw94b5iP7DVbU-f0VH2iyW7Ty0VCgZcA8jD74kKoyVDCcJB_kwOMiOLnfN27Pf1zgsgvjsFOSIPFkuw2H45E2Dqnv_j7AHlMvg/s4032/IMG_1785.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOXXhhAis26q9sCS3-GArf0sARC6j8W1GafzEARyyNZmNUj7fEgWOB-T1hcedb9hp8LqqDCRmJZ2RauqnwGmbgCe2rcw94b5iP7DVbU-f0VH2iyW7Ty0VCgZcA8jD74kKoyVDCcJB_kwOMiOLnfN27Pf1zgsgvjsFOSIPFkuw2H45E2Dqnv_j7AHlMvg/s320/IMG_1785.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6n0Nd3BYnCDKGIPjODNjOe8N95qcR6QTS2VdIcPiOZUOTi3qP08nlBrmsYAt9Gq0-isn-sRoHRjqW9D_tqvyO0bYwC8UbxP6HrL0xrsUN5iHw4GSeZ0PrJHKQiHBOiFudI6YibkrXEPqDmzCiclDLdxzPNsB8PkWGzURjoeEujVhFiW1KCIE0XPjmuA/s4032/IMG_1786.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6n0Nd3BYnCDKGIPjODNjOe8N95qcR6QTS2VdIcPiOZUOTi3qP08nlBrmsYAt9Gq0-isn-sRoHRjqW9D_tqvyO0bYwC8UbxP6HrL0xrsUN5iHw4GSeZ0PrJHKQiHBOiFudI6YibkrXEPqDmzCiclDLdxzPNsB8PkWGzURjoeEujVhFiW1KCIE0XPjmuA/s320/IMG_1786.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyba-MBp1PKMard5gkj73E0Xbqs1Yvye-WpoJmHwZLruOjtZj7BSVxD-3RSdiEwaN-qzzR9JenB_3aLB9Ik06b008WxcZcbpu4HSU5DRezwZej26GnUfDodqBDdljhnJvVY1ru5vAko_7p1wvWpijDrF5fsbApBPS_ZZ46Lcf4fpIixG_MdcfLAQrrg/s4032/IMG_1787.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghyba-MBp1PKMard5gkj73E0Xbqs1Yvye-WpoJmHwZLruOjtZj7BSVxD-3RSdiEwaN-qzzR9JenB_3aLB9Ik06b008WxcZcbpu4HSU5DRezwZej26GnUfDodqBDdljhnJvVY1ru5vAko_7p1wvWpijDrF5fsbApBPS_ZZ46Lcf4fpIixG_MdcfLAQrrg/s320/IMG_1787.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>And for my final act on this Sunday evening, I head over to Maidstone West where I'll need to catch a train from anyway to Strood for Sittingbourne or something confusing. Similarly confusing was the exact location of pub six, in the kind of eerie rail side courtyard where serial killers normally dump bodies, but luckily I'd recce'd it earlier in the day.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0vG6Au6Lr9NR8bPkHTq-G9xmBgV4CP2ld5E64zAd1HS_Q5Dfq3hKEsBlfIFkIyMsmwzUSz0ktYFRSi3jAxEvXyi83vMQaFfKuhlBqExbWm0X-0yqH87h4EJY6YOBg5U38h9_y9HpFrkEI8XCgrai4juobPfr0-xSoX4SJEra7K70YIW2WCHDQ5v70A/s4032/IMG_1788.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP0vG6Au6Lr9NR8bPkHTq-G9xmBgV4CP2ld5E64zAd1HS_Q5Dfq3hKEsBlfIFkIyMsmwzUSz0ktYFRSi3jAxEvXyi83vMQaFfKuhlBqExbWm0X-0yqH87h4EJY6YOBg5U38h9_y9HpFrkEI8XCgrai4juobPfr0-xSoX4SJEra7K70YIW2WCHDQ5v70A/s320/IMG_1788.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><div>A bit of a marmite underground micropub was the <b>Cellars Alehouse, Maidstone (2392 / 3956)</b>, I spoke to folk this week who both loved and hated it. Personally, I was a fan. It was however, incredibly pongy. Like Cobbetts in Dorking, Cracklerock in Botley or Past & Present in Gillingham. Gives me a headache. But I'm a sucker for any dark pub, and that underground cellar style, and this was nicely done. Reminds me of how Lendal Cellars in York used to be circa 2000 before Jamie Oliver and Greene King fucked it over. A group of quirky twentysomethings are in the centre of the room. One lad seems to be dressed as a ghost walk host. Another lady might be from Derry. She keeps saying the word 'caramel' in a crazy way. "Coiyoymel" or something. A group of beer geeks crowd the tiny corner bar. Everyone is friendly, but they only have one conversation topic. Beer. A silent staff member goes around lighting the tealights on each table. Mine is the only one which keeps blowing out - like a Candle in the Wind. I tell him not to worry, and he grunts, but won't give up. My Unbarred Joozy is a dense murk fest, very hard to drink. My train isn't due so go up for a second. Time & Tide. "Tastes like a cow pat, pooey and earthy" a beer expert quips. But it is still easier to drink. Good place this, but you aren't forced to agree.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLV-AuGJWEm1RlHSZELx6FQVOpEeKSjRq3xtHNLP4ORz0uvGHkDBljCyxs7Q4VZCt8hYMi4xFv3pRz9_4_xbQR_7yEORiewh0s1tWW6tg9RvzCXZYm6Peq0TfDpRkJgA1q16nbW1zCZOmhlvCskxmwTS6fF2iiooP8AFA-9WzBUAXuqSajazTzyOppw/s4032/IMG_1793.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpLV-AuGJWEm1RlHSZELx6FQVOpEeKSjRq3xtHNLP4ORz0uvGHkDBljCyxs7Q4VZCt8hYMi4xFv3pRz9_4_xbQR_7yEORiewh0s1tWW6tg9RvzCXZYm6Peq0TfDpRkJgA1q16nbW1zCZOmhlvCskxmwTS6fF2iiooP8AFA-9WzBUAXuqSajazTzyOppw/s320/IMG_1793.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE7YiJtPIirGHHzh5QoKzgFpDpC_UoGgmTJNNL_GwxiLIZd-tgKzxlGXFnrDNMUMm2CiVV3V4Dtc8DQVmkssU2NiMMjal08eNSRWC7A8qIMCL_Bq6imTYkx26Bqfy4qEGmP0ei7Xkg3cDhYy_LEoQWng_9ccyKZ2GBPIQ2jfIiMNcgvkmcAiJE3PDJ6Q/s3753/IMG_1792.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3753" data-original-width="3021" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE7YiJtPIirGHHzh5QoKzgFpDpC_UoGgmTJNNL_GwxiLIZd-tgKzxlGXFnrDNMUMm2CiVV3V4Dtc8DQVmkssU2NiMMjal08eNSRWC7A8qIMCL_Bq6imTYkx26Bqfy4qEGmP0ei7Xkg3cDhYy_LEoQWng_9ccyKZ2GBPIQ2jfIiMNcgvkmcAiJE3PDJ6Q/s320/IMG_1792.HEIC" width="258" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95zUgIGzVcOiJH8EM3k7QGMrATmtIO4imgUUgiTuTtTnZMDw2a_He-pAtXetl4c8qlbjDfvLgKru2NZWGdqY641dC8kCOtIyDw0at0SUeMEw56lpqoXGooQoyQ1rt0EdnC7G8MkiGYsIu3hx-2uC66hbm0F4iGHysgQBtKAy3UlvIODLFJI5KHot6ng/s4032/IMG_1790.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi95zUgIGzVcOiJH8EM3k7QGMrATmtIO4imgUUgiTuTtTnZMDw2a_He-pAtXetl4c8qlbjDfvLgKru2NZWGdqY641dC8kCOtIyDw0at0SUeMEw56lpqoXGooQoyQ1rt0EdnC7G8MkiGYsIu3hx-2uC66hbm0F4iGHysgQBtKAy3UlvIODLFJI5KHot6ng/s320/IMG_1790.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKlDWQ8Lncj51bxfFO-6SoQ0g_UB_uDvN1GP0VIPCJQ6e2vY4lHlM5V-fOvMJ8ShoJWPm94z93444aJwj3nI37dTNW1qsc-a0XPNl47qcpKaxGZxio_amvec3szf-o13Rh-aFK4hDaw_VzBeAXvceMw-X8A9EvSFhudBP1Yr4cmyyp1FqrBuxxL6puA/s4032/IMG_1789.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidKlDWQ8Lncj51bxfFO-6SoQ0g_UB_uDvN1GP0VIPCJQ6e2vY4lHlM5V-fOvMJ8ShoJWPm94z93444aJwj3nI37dTNW1qsc-a0XPNl47qcpKaxGZxio_amvec3szf-o13Rh-aFK4hDaw_VzBeAXvceMw-X8A9EvSFhudBP1Yr4cmyyp1FqrBuxxL6puA/s320/IMG_1789.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />I was lucky with my connection back to Sittingbourne. I got a train I had no right to. </div><div><br /></div><div>But in any case, I'd be having a long lie-in tomorrow morning. State funeral bank holiday meant pub opening times had never been more uncertain. </div><div><br /></div><div>Apparently, not much happens in court on Fridays cos judges like a long weekend (allegedly) which means I should be back to tell you about a bit of Funeral Bank Holiday mayhem tomorrow night.</div><div><br /></div><div>See you then, Si </div><div><br /></div><div><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div></div></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-62374259667002182892022-10-12T20:42:00.001+01:002022-10-12T20:42:49.657+01:00BRAPA in .... LOVE ME TENTER(DEN) : Kenty Was Plenty Part 2/11<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRt5Ei7nc176PGT373ptewzHDdZ-zKQ1pGp6RGcNztijHksK7h77gvHKJIgTV0jg8yX3ok5yCWlj0NEeserghGdSzlefrJ1ryw3ouTKnDZoS4P7XsK35lujWxcgB0qd6IF4Wir_xw-ZE1O3G5JfiD-TXkCB225JszITELqbT56k9GkGoTEh9n99nEiNw/s3602/IMG_1755.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3602" data-original-width="2805" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRt5Ei7nc176PGT373ptewzHDdZ-zKQ1pGp6RGcNztijHksK7h77gvHKJIgTV0jg8yX3ok5yCWlj0NEeserghGdSzlefrJ1ryw3ouTKnDZoS4P7XsK35lujWxcgB0qd6IF4Wir_xw-ZE1O3G5JfiD-TXkCB225JszITELqbT56k9GkGoTEh9n99nEiNw/s320/IMG_1755.HEIC" width="249" /></a></div><br /><p>No sooner had the BRAPA feet touched down on the firm ground of Maidstone for the first time in my life, I was straight back out the other side to the arguably more life-sapping town of Ashford.</p><p>It was Sunday, day 2/6 in Kent, and with limited bus services, today wasn't the time to try and be too clever. Or so I said at 10am.</p><p>Ashford International was the name of the railway station, which makes it sound a lot more exotic than the reality. I found too many Kent towns this week blighted by an over abundance of through-traffic, not enough bypasses, and aggressive impatient drivers. Ashford was the epitome.</p><p>But it had a GBG 'Spoons. And where there is a GBG 'Spoons, there is hope. Sort of. At least I could get off to a pre-noon ticking start.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ3_HWipoaQnUidgzu5AnlxvBVIrNN-6KmilZc5SZttpPLHXrcLNT7YxdJv-6EIg-wHCOHXRfvVof1q7a0AtLYFWePnXkK8hyJszxHKEX4h1HvAny4CvXh4edBaszeKsxhTooqBbXIChEIVodjnio7clMOpjDe2aylcu3j9QwEbAR9W22O6rtmZHRl8Q/s4032/IMG_1756.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJ3_HWipoaQnUidgzu5AnlxvBVIrNN-6KmilZc5SZttpPLHXrcLNT7YxdJv-6EIg-wHCOHXRfvVof1q7a0AtLYFWePnXkK8hyJszxHKEX4h1HvAny4CvXh4edBaszeKsxhTooqBbXIChEIVodjnio7clMOpjDe2aylcu3j9QwEbAR9W22O6rtmZHRl8Q/w150-h200/IMG_1756.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><div>Just about hidden from the main drag in a leafier location with some healthy hanging baskets, <b>County Hotel, Ashford (2387 / 3951) </b>nearly fooled me into thinking it was going to be a genteel cut above, but it was 100% pure unadulterated 'Spoons filth once inside. The carpet was easily an 9, my pint of Pieces of Eight dredged from Chatham Dockyard was a smashing drop at £1.69, but the clientele were ashen faced droogs. The most notable feature was the huge ceiling extractor fan. The whole pub is in a permanent state of vibration as a result. The glasses above the bar were jingle jangling throughout. It all felt a bit perilous, like some fault line had opened beneath Ashford, causing earthquake tremors, the whole town about to be swallowed up. Well, we can dream. </div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEtR_mrtw34274hHE7Xn3YAJhHD8OmlM_BGoOWbOxccYlYAZ_90fjj0RtZEFCEIVMe8XiB7kM9TAgtaeoKj97o3etpV-BjN6XNcYzdeL-Ey4_8uVdPlEMSRyRgxK2V7dWJaWuoSzvXqwQo_u2mrxyThzotO-ZEgMYogausKkjZ2R91ky3Rgrsm21-KTg/s3306/IMG_1760.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3306" data-original-width="2805" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEtR_mrtw34274hHE7Xn3YAJhHD8OmlM_BGoOWbOxccYlYAZ_90fjj0RtZEFCEIVMe8XiB7kM9TAgtaeoKj97o3etpV-BjN6XNcYzdeL-Ey4_8uVdPlEMSRyRgxK2V7dWJaWuoSzvXqwQo_u2mrxyThzotO-ZEgMYogausKkjZ2R91ky3Rgrsm21-KTg/s320/IMG_1760.HEIC" width="272" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdszciLaz9bIEUSJg5nK-ar06paeKbzg0pJKsTBExZ7q0DIQBdsPbDjJwPlQSXeO1pkcFTUCkepJdMrHYQM0fqC1kP5RsYtmnz2ra9_D0R8gl0LXChuQ6w9Be3yBYqXeH3m51xxVbP1d3WYZShMOe5cVB8L3Ny9Fu1zmqKUmlXq3-Z8FzUlE5nJph5pA/s4032/IMG_1759.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdszciLaz9bIEUSJg5nK-ar06paeKbzg0pJKsTBExZ7q0DIQBdsPbDjJwPlQSXeO1pkcFTUCkepJdMrHYQM0fqC1kP5RsYtmnz2ra9_D0R8gl0LXChuQ6w9Be3yBYqXeH3m51xxVbP1d3WYZShMOe5cVB8L3Ny9Fu1zmqKUmlXq3-Z8FzUlE5nJph5pA/s320/IMG_1759.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Heartfelt</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKHZQKSGjdelFCRpMTOKNADSaxz1dtYylLMsfk7CfnjUS8MHci_vStfddchay3Ipkw7lVJVcPm6sYXoBPKv_ip0b2gN4CWPn8bg9yRE_LS3j75nkIlD37fsDPA6QCMyYjqKKQH7cqbfAzgkpW5kRPeQR-lv-UuNJ3qCIY5ec9BVALeMoDF3rVENs1G7Q/s4032/IMG_1758.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKHZQKSGjdelFCRpMTOKNADSaxz1dtYylLMsfk7CfnjUS8MHci_vStfddchay3Ipkw7lVJVcPm6sYXoBPKv_ip0b2gN4CWPn8bg9yRE_LS3j75nkIlD37fsDPA6QCMyYjqKKQH7cqbfAzgkpW5kRPeQR-lv-UuNJ3qCIY5ec9BVALeMoDF3rVENs1G7Q/s320/IMG_1758.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqXiqbwNNo8XawVmqXQWV3hzSRSMrFjhJdEQzX4mz_KxDJufqtGf4r-L01oURN0iRJehdLAe-4mqONeInEsZfSFX8eJNpoAEGPlCvhgfmXs2xWz5NsE9XjmYf8VY6iSdowmE6VpUqE9ffecT3fxD802R05Qbl3CDQKRPxfw4PDxggRECbbiFKNhOSWHg/s4032/IMG_1757.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqXiqbwNNo8XawVmqXQWV3hzSRSMrFjhJdEQzX4mz_KxDJufqtGf4r-L01oURN0iRJehdLAe-4mqONeInEsZfSFX8eJNpoAEGPlCvhgfmXs2xWz5NsE9XjmYf8VY6iSdowmE6VpUqE9ffecT3fxD802R05Qbl3CDQKRPxfw4PDxggRECbbiFKNhOSWHg/s320/IMG_1757.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9adXPBcS7vF712_aIXcw_Q4qmVgZmOcBCWu3V7hQvjIzIEWuheeTMF_sv3uoGSLWTANrOQymBbyYhUUClYAhxVSKeqB9etm66kKBlNw_P1vj44JmLDBM864vsa0h64lohTlIX-KjSd4WU4GKvy_CAxGSVcWdgLMHjMule8HkDxYXuN_VFv4NyHUxuiQ/s4032/IMG_1761.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9adXPBcS7vF712_aIXcw_Q4qmVgZmOcBCWu3V7hQvjIzIEWuheeTMF_sv3uoGSLWTANrOQymBbyYhUUClYAhxVSKeqB9etm66kKBlNw_P1vj44JmLDBM864vsa0h64lohTlIX-KjSd4WU4GKvy_CAxGSVcWdgLMHjMule8HkDxYXuN_VFv4NyHUxuiQ/s320/IMG_1761.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>The sensible thing to do at this stage would've been to take myself back to Maidstone for a few ticks before retiring to the North Kent coast for last orders, somewhere east of Sittingbourne. But when I saw TWO Sunday bus services running to the 'dual tick' town of Tenterden (45 minutes to the south), temptation proved too strong.</div><div><br /></div><div>Not that our bus driver had any intention of following the timetable. Relaxed, didn't speak much English, and he wasn't familiar with the route, the previous driver warned me and an old man, the only passengers. A dangerous concoction of bus farcery. I browsed the lending library before our departure - only Captain Pugwash piqued my interest.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsH-1b7vvOKHSuty4cl52dRjp3fjFclx2ZN5aYrdFdU_vxLsyLIUhyXNYjJZ3yU9QX-OkvMZIjJZqgxyqNZUNb_mud1dqOCGgm9DLUnSuhLlgGWXTvWZz0LhdkVa1CD29NZoT94BjfK_NGv-Bhb8Pk2nJKi02DNsH7Vu8riiub92LProlX82lQJvJibA/s4032/IMG_1762.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsH-1b7vvOKHSuty4cl52dRjp3fjFclx2ZN5aYrdFdU_vxLsyLIUhyXNYjJZ3yU9QX-OkvMZIjJZqgxyqNZUNb_mud1dqOCGgm9DLUnSuhLlgGWXTvWZz0LhdkVa1CD29NZoT94BjfK_NGv-Bhb8Pk2nJKi02DNsH7Vu8riiub92LProlX82lQJvJibA/s320/IMG_1762.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Sure enough, our bus driver got lost. Out in the sticks, reversing into some gravelly carpark where kids go to prod farm animals. Luckily, a horse lady came out and shooed him in the right direction!</div><div><br /></div><div>It had been about an hour and my bladder was fit to burst when I finally pressed the bell for our first pub. More insane traffic made it a difficult road to cross, ruining the upper class, flowery, gentle town that Tenterden thinks it still is.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjo4yIwtg4mPnI6-6F6Ce1lwDPLaSpvg59hA1f339rpzwMzZMkD_wy2dpr46pOkPWwiRTADGc6oNrkzDq8FJqyRO_dC9oG9XZYtNeOFXoea4xbuWADhbBUkC8zpz4hNZ5mGCgI_5bqONm-Y4Y0jpOlTi_2ra6Fz-ww_ZMxsqO76IdlGX8isOaCNtDZw/s3497/IMG_1763.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3497" data-original-width="3021" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjo4yIwtg4mPnI6-6F6Ce1lwDPLaSpvg59hA1f339rpzwMzZMkD_wy2dpr46pOkPWwiRTADGc6oNrkzDq8FJqyRO_dC9oG9XZYtNeOFXoea4xbuWADhbBUkC8zpz4hNZ5mGCgI_5bqONm-Y4Y0jpOlTi_2ra6Fz-ww_ZMxsqO76IdlGX8isOaCNtDZw/s320/IMG_1763.HEIC" width="276" /></a></div><b>This Ancient Boro', Tenterden (2388 / 3952) </b>was about as peculiar as its name. What actually was it? When a pub ticker like myself can't get a handle on it, it must be confused, surely? A plain bare boarded set up, smoked salmon walls and cluttered tables which don't make the most of the space. Local bar blockers line the bar on high stools, and luckily a young Victoria Coren-Mitchell is on top form, spotting me straight away and following me the full length of the bar before I can find a gap to get served in. All the ales come straight from the barrel, making it even harder to tell what is on. Dynamo by Wantsum if you care. Decent, a bit dull. And at the end of the bar, an empty cage saying "Do not feed me please" but try as I might, I can't spot anything alive within. I did consider throwing Colin in to see what'd happen, but I suspected whatever it was wasn't a vegetarian. The locals soon left as one, and despite the initial quirkiness, the pub faded into quite a non-descript experience, which surprised me. <br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZwA0P6ctjbDD2FKm5rtoq2z7sERTCPT3AdTNzR1NjAbZl243tePaEZlgpVi4evAlpAiW0DQNwDuFb4nFbDgNXNuTYZQm9R9XHIEl2gad5mosKx8qvNd85qjsJe55StkPd3qOB81qpoCufJVLqwRM8EqtAl0cY38f0Oed3L0lng8ezq3HiXwnbBXh0_Q/s3082/IMG_1764.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3082" data-original-width="2336" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZwA0P6ctjbDD2FKm5rtoq2z7sERTCPT3AdTNzR1NjAbZl243tePaEZlgpVi4evAlpAiW0DQNwDuFb4nFbDgNXNuTYZQm9R9XHIEl2gad5mosKx8qvNd85qjsJe55StkPd3qOB81qpoCufJVLqwRM8EqtAl0cY38f0Oed3L0lng8ezq3HiXwnbBXh0_Q/s320/IMG_1764.HEIC" width="243" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYo7dzbGZ94HRQzkibYLfwZYFX0Yogd2386VVcG22KyaKkUMzxKB81m9mzWLEchrZXO7oVk2ZlbY9qAVGTBdnU8T98XHu1j9H3onaUcFg5oUTidKp4DUqvvWQO6u1wQA-3el_kXyYssrBj4ZAcv7XEjZH-2n0VaPr1IxYYK5_hIHmlf_csHCjV527Exg/s4032/IMG_1765.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYo7dzbGZ94HRQzkibYLfwZYFX0Yogd2386VVcG22KyaKkUMzxKB81m9mzWLEchrZXO7oVk2ZlbY9qAVGTBdnU8T98XHu1j9H3onaUcFg5oUTidKp4DUqvvWQO6u1wQA-3el_kXyYssrBj4ZAcv7XEjZH-2n0VaPr1IxYYK5_hIHmlf_csHCjV527Exg/s320/IMG_1765.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxw0LgU2gigh3n1lyY37OgBRY5snye6lgbKdo0cO7qZz0q1TV9c8PoBfHRauKMNTtJg77LG3t6L2yQSxFkUoalSLcYbnBorHuN0lEHwhFS4p8E652jO0zoCWMDc611gyiE60a09pvJvts3gNvMmpmiqiAohYBg2VzSD5iigI4WuzvKOL0fvwE3QcdxcQ/s4032/IMG_1766.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxw0LgU2gigh3n1lyY37OgBRY5snye6lgbKdo0cO7qZz0q1TV9c8PoBfHRauKMNTtJg77LG3t6L2yQSxFkUoalSLcYbnBorHuN0lEHwhFS4p8E652jO0zoCWMDc611gyiE60a09pvJvts3gNvMmpmiqiAohYBg2VzSD5iigI4WuzvKOL0fvwE3QcdxcQ/s320/IMG_1766.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>But Tenterden took on a new lease of life when I left the main road, in search of my next pub tick, and stumbled upon a steam railway. Always a pleasing sight.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglko7TMTGEqepTGqxA-GgKfE5enI7nFicFThgsWBmKtBQWr5a4JEmA7J8ApYbOVUeaGWLLqK5fEcTnmX5fuIjsNo14o9Z1MxM8sbwnoPJH7VgFZsiQM15eMY49L7C5hzsVf77Fmyq_fnIVEf6X5pRUiv0bFDsAB695FEoON8MRkhclv0VYsvLrT6_-3w/s4032/IMG_1768.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglko7TMTGEqepTGqxA-GgKfE5enI7nFicFThgsWBmKtBQWr5a4JEmA7J8ApYbOVUeaGWLLqK5fEcTnmX5fuIjsNo14o9Z1MxM8sbwnoPJH7VgFZsiQM15eMY49L7C5hzsVf77Fmyq_fnIVEf6X5pRUiv0bFDsAB695FEoON8MRkhclv0VYsvLrT6_-3w/s320/IMG_1768.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>And a few yards further on, to the right, a corrugated iron nuclear bunker ... well you can't be too careful with Putin about who I've heard hates the town. This must be the place! I negotiate the world's fattest corgi, which looks like its been on the steak bakes, and I'm in.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZslThzg1coL0gJPStCaD8J2OP4gfIBjFDjfkxYd3QWpzobRD1B7tbD7aZk0rlF9Ybo2K5sr_oY_xhb08fY01T4SUVQca1RwQHCO23azV8UFIh7oJsTx3zIJ7mSI4tsuoM-IQhvhLLDMUB7oohisTsgv7FlHnLJ-354kSJSqQHMb23_FNxMVFmDNj2Gg/s3996/IMG_1769.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2466" data-original-width="3996" height="197" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZslThzg1coL0gJPStCaD8J2OP4gfIBjFDjfkxYd3QWpzobRD1B7tbD7aZk0rlF9Ybo2K5sr_oY_xhb08fY01T4SUVQca1RwQHCO23azV8UFIh7oJsTx3zIJ7mSI4tsuoM-IQhvhLLDMUB7oohisTsgv7FlHnLJ-354kSJSqQHMb23_FNxMVFmDNj2Gg/s320/IMG_1769.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><b>Old Dairy Tap Room, Tenterden (2389 / 3953) </b>may just be a low-key shout for BRAPA brewery tap of the year, if such an award existed (it doesn't). I'm surprised, nay, shocked, to see a comfortably furnished room, fake fire on the left, everyone is wearing a fleece and seems calm. The staff are angelic, and I've always thought Old Dairy ales were pretty good since I first tried one in Rochester, 2013. Today I opt for a Table Beer, always a good idea when you're on a seven pint session. It is a cracking drop, but then again, your own Brewery Tap is hardly going to keep bad cask is it? Tiny Rebel in Rogerstone is saying 'hold my beer, literally' at this moment. Old Dairy are so proud of their CAMRA awards, they've stuck them in the bogs. One has fallen down behind the cistern, but I manage to retrieve it, and the mountain of paper towels that have gone down with it. A raucous group 'twixt bogs and bar are injecting a bit of life into this sleepy Sunday daytripper atmosphere. But when one lady tells a story that involves a frozen cauliflower, poor Colin ducks back into the bag. Great place this, worthy of a visit.<div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Hy68ZHERWe7CankaWyTfKQD0HkXArjfXXQf4I2yIl0wG0G8AWYjViGuyr79Rdbl8H7CAb7jNYUeulyuBzZGZaFiUJn-19FtWD_EaTxQyHkeVEzvBLsCxhU_8vZMhe3vTlXY_5-RrpBSz0iMaEj8SvROJYKN1TnDf17zw4R-5NeIsCcTy3u_i5pCLxQ/s4032/IMG_1770.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5Hy68ZHERWe7CankaWyTfKQD0HkXArjfXXQf4I2yIl0wG0G8AWYjViGuyr79Rdbl8H7CAb7jNYUeulyuBzZGZaFiUJn-19FtWD_EaTxQyHkeVEzvBLsCxhU_8vZMhe3vTlXY_5-RrpBSz0iMaEj8SvROJYKN1TnDf17zw4R-5NeIsCcTy3u_i5pCLxQ/s320/IMG_1770.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Blind Sooty - just like an outdoor loo, always a sign of quality</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgro-t0ZnCE9994I4f2ws9utjyn5Ni99wRT6_JAu3jdTrWwzejcdJNeXstDqhip8IwHL2L5LpHz1sti_9497u3ZilkD2iE9RWL3Os6M289arRAoiD41VpHGGvseCxWFr9a7SWqCS0WiW-GzJmT-FUCPjZIGaQGaEwJbvPRyP1iJ6-SAMoXGBo53rsgj-w/s4032/IMG_1771.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgro-t0ZnCE9994I4f2ws9utjyn5Ni99wRT6_JAu3jdTrWwzejcdJNeXstDqhip8IwHL2L5LpHz1sti_9497u3ZilkD2iE9RWL3Os6M289arRAoiD41VpHGGvseCxWFr9a7SWqCS0WiW-GzJmT-FUCPjZIGaQGaEwJbvPRyP1iJ6-SAMoXGBo53rsgj-w/s320/IMG_1771.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqlFvy5VJh0113l0pbS6n5k1NGXAncqCTcsXshDnenGwKhb-F44wieE3y2-YYcWrtVvC4xyaIs6WyEfaFDYZsbx64EokZMmwg_SEewFOenxxOm6jowsj_7O8q14fJ7Srme1rrKH1IUvdXI5WMjvuT_09GMK5i7whT_OET7uSk7QbF02dieigQEeIJBPw/s4032/IMG_1772.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqlFvy5VJh0113l0pbS6n5k1NGXAncqCTcsXshDnenGwKhb-F44wieE3y2-YYcWrtVvC4xyaIs6WyEfaFDYZsbx64EokZMmwg_SEewFOenxxOm6jowsj_7O8q14fJ7Srme1rrKH1IUvdXI5WMjvuT_09GMK5i7whT_OET7uSk7QbF02dieigQEeIJBPw/s320/IMG_1772.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCcAoPz73nb_DVknNR1c6oRB1eepAiMcONkIVD-gQ2d3eMXtAgTL2VaYsB627EoANJ9xJUh8g-0YxH8uoYKJdMWxpZ0OMTu7NkPGYWSylqwrJsBsVsZmF80quKTdJLxK1jGWFg9TmSzVRSOfxvy320SKJOAbp9nrGIji55Q5U5hmUtZgZ7ArT3WSiE6Q/s4032/IMG_1773.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCcAoPz73nb_DVknNR1c6oRB1eepAiMcONkIVD-gQ2d3eMXtAgTL2VaYsB627EoANJ9xJUh8g-0YxH8uoYKJdMWxpZ0OMTu7NkPGYWSylqwrJsBsVsZmF80quKTdJLxK1jGWFg9TmSzVRSOfxvy320SKJOAbp9nrGIji55Q5U5hmUtZgZ7ArT3WSiE6Q/s320/IMG_1773.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUXO8YNis7ufPiFUW5Bu6FJhatESgcgYh8DpSzMzf-TCeDZ_ZStT1gAr19CW2KuZXnkn5oP9_42bausqLs_MQ7NggkVvOpeRkf6rFg5PyMO2oIng2hvnNLwrwZCirYCYli4o_cbHKAEucXphL25eKtiXjTTFGB688B7DTyJ0SLQmHN7C04aSJdzQAJiw/s4032/IMG_1774.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUXO8YNis7ufPiFUW5Bu6FJhatESgcgYh8DpSzMzf-TCeDZ_ZStT1gAr19CW2KuZXnkn5oP9_42bausqLs_MQ7NggkVvOpeRkf6rFg5PyMO2oIng2hvnNLwrwZCirYCYli4o_cbHKAEucXphL25eKtiXjTTFGB688B7DTyJ0SLQmHN7C04aSJdzQAJiw/s320/IMG_1774.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All tidy again!</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>But if I left with a smile of my face, it was soon wiped off when I saw the steam railway barrier was down because a train was imminent. 'Nooo, I've got a bus to catch!' Luckily, Mr Station Master had them back up post-haste and I made the bus stop with time to spare.</div><div><br /></div><div>I needn't have bothered. Bus didn't show! Pink fluorescent lady was similarly confused by its absence. According to bustimes.org, the nearest one heading this way was still near Maidstone which is miles away (I was hoping to go back a different route, cutting out Ashford). We had a nice chat but I told her I was off for a quick half somewhere else while I waited.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvGbhvhqjH7Tc6RTeWNN4LssDgVuPEku3Q-1wKVkoqGv3z4XBACV1VSJwKYlG6pdaoRc_8yulz8i9H-72U2yYHS5nFftrMRHo7pU-5xn3x2b1X48Fp3ZsDaMS--WkrgJQoVMdAVce_6bun3qFcdpExlXPOJ5foBTGBWyNY8VSQ23Ra0Eb66Os5398LQ/s3884/IMG_1775.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3884" data-original-width="3022" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNvGbhvhqjH7Tc6RTeWNN4LssDgVuPEku3Q-1wKVkoqGv3z4XBACV1VSJwKYlG6pdaoRc_8yulz8i9H-72U2yYHS5nFftrMRHo7pU-5xn3x2b1X48Fp3ZsDaMS--WkrgJQoVMdAVce_6bun3qFcdpExlXPOJ5foBTGBWyNY8VSQ23Ra0Eb66Os5398LQ/w156-h200/IMG_1775.HEIC" width="156" /></a></div>I could've probably picked a better 'pre-emptive' than <b>The Vine, Tenterden </b>but it was handy. There may've been a cask ale on but I went instead for a keggy Bear Island for the sole reason that there was a teddy behind the pumps. It was a horrid dining pub so I perched on a table in the corridor where two staff members plonked down a load of newly dishwashered cutlery and started sorting them noisily in my ear 'ole. I asked if I was in the way, but they said not. The younger lady had a bad hangover and confessed she kept rushing off to be sick as she'd overdone it last night. And that summed up the place. <br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioAaytr0w6vLce3KaAHuYQWe6eyoC0i4Oa9p6pnDmO69jf-m9uu_RL-Z1WiiZCpASYDF6Q7Yw7IKfng19h8Prnb4iucX0Lf_XARJBXHatlr6OGgDrXIIRdmVaBwDBCgXfRAcMsl3smBfIJmwSrcJ6LNm50bRdBGOdwkJq5jgzdhlCTzPK9L6_5s30bkA/s4032/IMG_1776.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioAaytr0w6vLce3KaAHuYQWe6eyoC0i4Oa9p6pnDmO69jf-m9uu_RL-Z1WiiZCpASYDF6Q7Yw7IKfng19h8Prnb4iucX0Lf_XARJBXHatlr6OGgDrXIIRdmVaBwDBCgXfRAcMsl3smBfIJmwSrcJ6LNm50bRdBGOdwkJq5jgzdhlCTzPK9L6_5s30bkA/s320/IMG_1776.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVDy1EWAVGM0QjTBUC5-tP6xEc6dHSehhPnk9lWNOObX9tDbHPLu1L12slcuz1IihwdMB34NZ1GRj8bh4vje5BbJJVV4haLpV2l6kuXqA7Tw2qwhyKneR2uBvo1sZDaLiXjSFp8QVdsQyrXdBD8cb5MV0DQGW2nuSi2fRtXSLGHOJ-49m2Hd25s30PQ/s4032/IMG_1777.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihVDy1EWAVGM0QjTBUC5-tP6xEc6dHSehhPnk9lWNOObX9tDbHPLu1L12slcuz1IihwdMB34NZ1GRj8bh4vje5BbJJVV4haLpV2l6kuXqA7Tw2qwhyKneR2uBvo1sZDaLiXjSFp8QVdsQyrXdBD8cb5MV0DQGW2nuSi2fRtXSLGHOJ-49m2Hd25s30PQ/w150-h200/IMG_1777.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><p>Back at the bus stop, and I notice the bus has now disappeared entirely off bustimes.org live tracker. Also disappeared was pink fluorescent lady. Had it arrived and she'd hopped on, or had she made other arrangements? </p><p>Finally, a bus does turn up, but it was an Ashford one. That wasn't all bad, because it was passing another pub I needed. I'll tell you all about that, their Facebook sulk, and my first two Maidstone ticks in Part 3 coming up tomorrow, unless the new GBG arrives which still looks very unlikely at this stage.</p><p>Sleep tight, Si </p></div></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-21984998054848561102022-10-11T21:15:00.000+01:002022-10-11T21:15:23.202+01:00BRAPA in .... I LUV SHEPPY (KENTY WAS PLENTY : PART 1/11)<p>Rewind to mid September, and Kenty was plenty as I took myself down to Sittingbourne of six days of morale boosting pub ticking.</p><p>Sorry I'm so far behind, Gwent and jury service are to blame. At least I can console myself in the fact that I'm still a few years ahead of RetiredMartin. Tomorrow, I believe he'll tell you about the day he had his first wet shave, which I'm really looking forward to. </p><p>After resting my bad back (which I don't like to talk about) having unwisely wrenched a heavy rucksack up from a high stool in Sittingbourne's Yellow Stocks, I dragged myself 200 yards to the train station, Isle of Sheppey bound.</p><p>I had been up IoS way before, back in 2013, during the precursor to BRAPA, "Si's A-Z Aleway Adventures" where 'Q was for Queenborough'. Micropubs hadn't exploded onto the GBG pages back then, so I had to make do with a gentle stroll around town at 10am before settling in a quirky pub with good ale called the Red Lion in Sheerness which has never been in the Good Beer Guide since because CAMRA hate me. </p><p>Queenborough was looking beautiful in the evening sun. Who said north Kent was a shithole? Not me. Definitely probably never. Or very rarely anyway.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBJBtLU-gPDRChBRaGrj-jhjUWLr7I0EZX5y7b8cpNEYvLAp0WXH30QTJPqOqWYCuFzxkRIKIsHIFhq5le1TqHxB34-ngt4dToEqL6uY89dS-B_AmKkwsXJiFPmjfERSuSz_Kbx7cge4SjBp1hiANEoxGqMYUPqToQ4BjlmbbB6w5dqf-YvWBKnpqYvQ/s1024/IMG_1746.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBJBtLU-gPDRChBRaGrj-jhjUWLr7I0EZX5y7b8cpNEYvLAp0WXH30QTJPqOqWYCuFzxkRIKIsHIFhq5le1TqHxB34-ngt4dToEqL6uY89dS-B_AmKkwsXJiFPmjfERSuSz_Kbx7cge4SjBp1hiANEoxGqMYUPqToQ4BjlmbbB6w5dqf-YvWBKnpqYvQ/w400-h300/IMG_1746.JPG" width="400" /></a></div><br /><p>And as decreed by the 2014 law that states all north Kent towns MUST contain at least one micropub, I found this little place disguised somewhere between a Thwaites diner, takeaway and out building for Captain Birdseye.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJv6SfovIV76-V74mQzQCPOPkb-tnZESxTaZu995jF2KpeRfgKZfvFoNJY6EnKprltFDCMZHddO7yrvVmif_cAowxSoPQcFVxK2mMg2zSijHy1PKi0EI_SAT6-si7a5-YiNZqnAYWDNzeM7qJBSCVt9SZwssIkSAdYiElnMpv12TSmtvq3eUCGYV9Tg/s1845/IMG_1741.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1845" data-original-width="1725" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiJv6SfovIV76-V74mQzQCPOPkb-tnZESxTaZu995jF2KpeRfgKZfvFoNJY6EnKprltFDCMZHddO7yrvVmif_cAowxSoPQcFVxK2mMg2zSijHy1PKi0EI_SAT6-si7a5-YiNZqnAYWDNzeM7qJBSCVt9SZwssIkSAdYiElnMpv12TSmtvq3eUCGYV9Tg/s320/IMG_1741.HEIC" width="299" /></a></div>But it was unmistakeably micropub once inside <b>Admiral's Arm, Queenborough (2384 / 3948). </b>They'd gone for a nautical theme, which being modern, could've been a total disaster, but it had been done with due care, attention and money spent, so as Linda Barker used to say, 'it worked really, really well'. The staff were cute and gentle, a bit like sparrows with porcelain wings, and when they weren't blinking dolefully at me whilst I swallowed down a Gowers Wolf, they were apologising when walking down the side corridor, even though it was my clown feet which were to blame for any trip hazrds. There seemed to be a foodie sub-section to the left which I was thankfully unaware of, had it not been for some gushing thirtysomethings. A few wheezy old farts and couples dressed in Blue Harbour and North Face kept it real in the bar, making for a thrumming but not throbbing Saturday evening atmosphere.<br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwauHV6hIYmN6gaFkCRy6GNPXs7-CPziBQ0SfkZz2b66aGdeB8yRc8iZdsdtP0bCTrwfJOftaCWVhe36PBbSQoPE9XSnydZBWura5oPQF7RTH2IGLGmXOPyPV6YNECpfuW0zlwWGT0uiMByYm9WM0iv50mmdgYmdEtf59UYcZOZC1MT_lUTVnPeJBkSg/s4032/IMG_1742.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwauHV6hIYmN6gaFkCRy6GNPXs7-CPziBQ0SfkZz2b66aGdeB8yRc8iZdsdtP0bCTrwfJOftaCWVhe36PBbSQoPE9XSnydZBWura5oPQF7RTH2IGLGmXOPyPV6YNECpfuW0zlwWGT0uiMByYm9WM0iv50mmdgYmdEtf59UYcZOZC1MT_lUTVnPeJBkSg/s320/IMG_1742.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHre3K33b8PvPf4PQZDgiazg9SaxS08k6J8FvsbJTNO9dwzHdo8O1QbjiGo4X7jSvaKY6ekN_EkyGCaZqzc_HQQHUCVNM_ZgEtQIJOnOdrm2CaSfjv_5A7dedWRn74CbX_NnlFQqw62JlgeH38KfFvdhVXFnUH3Qr_iFTGx9B1_MmdRqm9VtGvMOJUmA/s4032/IMG_1743.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHre3K33b8PvPf4PQZDgiazg9SaxS08k6J8FvsbJTNO9dwzHdo8O1QbjiGo4X7jSvaKY6ekN_EkyGCaZqzc_HQQHUCVNM_ZgEtQIJOnOdrm2CaSfjv_5A7dedWRn74CbX_NnlFQqw62JlgeH38KfFvdhVXFnUH3Qr_iFTGx9B1_MmdRqm9VtGvMOJUmA/s320/IMG_1743.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEsNhoe59BwcWz1p5s3RVFSirrYoW2t2QqNnSRWh8MLMbRTCEG_AVnfZmH28bNHRE1oSyR-1qfdmCFdl0wEMxlU_91JF9RzLhffDQweS20ajpOwcuPbdV1unWPIB4wO977uaw8y4-AmMPm4d_VipuXsJEY9vhQqHoQRMWhZIFwQfepBc7tzzfpErflLQ/s3971/IMG_1744.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3971" data-original-width="2104" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEsNhoe59BwcWz1p5s3RVFSirrYoW2t2QqNnSRWh8MLMbRTCEG_AVnfZmH28bNHRE1oSyR-1qfdmCFdl0wEMxlU_91JF9RzLhffDQweS20ajpOwcuPbdV1unWPIB4wO977uaw8y4-AmMPm4d_VipuXsJEY9vhQqHoQRMWhZIFwQfepBc7tzzfpErflLQ/s320/IMG_1744.HEIC" width="170" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsLWaUNkqCmC7cRkmCbcC8QGSzRvJTiQVY2KJzv3ehxiGO5H241x41c_9_H037Q0kmFhI6uDVDz0qg2kiHh-mSyBjAp7LhiZDJq6_k0AeRHjkNXAOk_lEdUhhfh5FeR7WEEeaOGCkHyatvkAMh1pZo0l5xD-dqewEtn21-UeqJdKvQK3c9roda8eCe7w/s3598/IMG_1745.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3598" data-original-width="2395" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsLWaUNkqCmC7cRkmCbcC8QGSzRvJTiQVY2KJzv3ehxiGO5H241x41c_9_H037Q0kmFhI6uDVDz0qg2kiHh-mSyBjAp7LhiZDJq6_k0AeRHjkNXAOk_lEdUhhfh5FeR7WEEeaOGCkHyatvkAMh1pZo0l5xD-dqewEtn21-UeqJdKvQK3c9roda8eCe7w/s320/IMG_1745.HEIC" width="213" /></a></div><br /><p>But the true reason for this Saturday night trip to Sheppey was my next pub. Sheerness was jumping by comparison to calm Queenborough, there was something slightly 'animal' about the hoards of kids arriving in the town on my train, and I mean something a bit more threatening than a sheep. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Mj-pcVkz0WSxPq5c6SAXEWPXiHnuOIXJHK7h2DaPRdTfwRsByM6Z8Z3ynoJpOFNNpFfiuDLhEh6GtFPRGWc8XsIupqDC_SJRUAcvRslZ-JnE0J7cBNVJ4CwQSqEn8I0k-ZCP-sDzG7eR-3BO461Q508NkKp7DByCb-7JtDWxAmsp_2e6gbiV7mjzzA/s4032/IMG_1747.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5Mj-pcVkz0WSxPq5c6SAXEWPXiHnuOIXJHK7h2DaPRdTfwRsByM6Z8Z3ynoJpOFNNpFfiuDLhEh6GtFPRGWc8XsIupqDC_SJRUAcvRslZ-JnE0J7cBNVJ4CwQSqEn8I0k-ZCP-sDzG7eR-3BO461Q508NkKp7DByCb-7JtDWxAmsp_2e6gbiV7mjzzA/s320/IMG_1747.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div>Opening a stingy twelve hours a week (7-11pm Tue, Fri & Sat), <b>Flying Sheep, Sheerness (2385 / 3949) </b>was in my bad books before I'd entered, but I'm relieved to see it open. "Can you shut the door?" cries the landlady from the bar, before so much as a 'hello' so I've really got a dim view of the place now. When Mr Sheep serves me, I'm uncharacteristically grumpy and monosyllabic. I go to the loo, splash my face with cold water, and give myself a good talking to. "Come on Si, give it a chance!" And then everything is lovely. A fluffy little rat of a mutt called Tia gives me the once over. "She's deaf" her owners explain. Suddenly the door shutting anxiety made more sense. Getting a deaf dog killed wouldn't be BRAPA's worst moment, but I'd feel bad. And although a silent book Robert Lindsay is reading a book between me and pub, I'm soon contributing to the chat with Mr & Mrs Sheep and deaf dog couple. What did I learn? Cyprus hated the Queen. Someone will only drink red wine if it has three spoonful's of sugar in. Bloik! Hallowe'en is popular in Sheerness. No surprise there. I'm now confident enough to tell them I once visited a pub in Huddersfield that opens more hours a day than this does a week. "Alright Si, jeeez!" says Mrs Sheep, before Mr Sheep adds the immortal words "we are a hobby pub" which I commend for honesty. <div>I leave satisfied, almost misty eyed, the power of good people can't be denied.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimiHqYcbnAyU3vAXzMThz1R9-Jq_MBu4fIVNc5dKXOy71ODqTA_ZdO7IYC3uT8xDf8TeE1uYvSJz6cvmvRffNmhKictGc-SxlxzqVlZT2yeFY4H1P-usCAYR2f2jdMwwXadPF8vjIYwLipRs5TeLg3URvPJwdfELZt4l2MeEzOiV-NcgyRnP5COLGeiQ/s4032/IMG_1748.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimiHqYcbnAyU3vAXzMThz1R9-Jq_MBu4fIVNc5dKXOy71ODqTA_ZdO7IYC3uT8xDf8TeE1uYvSJz6cvmvRffNmhKictGc-SxlxzqVlZT2yeFY4H1P-usCAYR2f2jdMwwXadPF8vjIYwLipRs5TeLg3URvPJwdfELZt4l2MeEzOiV-NcgyRnP5COLGeiQ/s320/IMG_1748.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsTRB60iDajC7vflsAocpFsYSfsYgMFlj28Z35Ess7ZX7fkUkA3suNWo6wD1pc-no85oYTQ5pNzmNoAg_U5NlD3CYQfxxnOg2QO7hvAOsaGbwF33ve_Vn07X2q4lbiqjvVaI9K0fO682ZTLNESPWwLHmVrW6n9qchYOSvC5A3Q2qH3FYZExLz3-N4aw/s4032/IMG_1749.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZsTRB60iDajC7vflsAocpFsYSfsYgMFlj28Z35Ess7ZX7fkUkA3suNWo6wD1pc-no85oYTQ5pNzmNoAg_U5NlD3CYQfxxnOg2QO7hvAOsaGbwF33ve_Vn07X2q4lbiqjvVaI9K0fO682ZTLNESPWwLHmVrW6n9qchYOSvC5A3Q2qH3FYZExLz3-N4aw/s320/IMG_1749.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Remember those heady days when my GBG had a cover?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NjE1Otx_wUJElQ9Rlpm7V_IPvCnGkylI-A-byVESNSJKl0CWJaj-bLqLiNG-b1mNv8dUH7D0MG901iPZ9zd86hGuE6nGUlSF-AdkpXKBRTdLE4_7ZvA5DrO79MUM2Fu1nCNntPiOpWWUzRvTgfjakD3O-V-BPPlVteoVXUwOv6y00H_kjYGF1y8seA/s3290/IMG_1750.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3290" data-original-width="2887" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2NjE1Otx_wUJElQ9Rlpm7V_IPvCnGkylI-A-byVESNSJKl0CWJaj-bLqLiNG-b1mNv8dUH7D0MG901iPZ9zd86hGuE6nGUlSF-AdkpXKBRTdLE4_7ZvA5DrO79MUM2Fu1nCNntPiOpWWUzRvTgfjakD3O-V-BPPlVteoVXUwOv6y00H_kjYGF1y8seA/s320/IMG_1750.HEIC" width="281" /></a></div><br /><div>I take myself back to Sittingbourne, determined to squeeze in a sixth tick for the day, which wouldn't be a bad result considering I arrived in Gillingham quite late and had a three hour kip in the afternoon. I can't even feel my bad back now, but that might be the ale. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0HrasLWC13Q9UxfbeHJfZLFATN39X4QuciDvXUkYUZYanRiK63lq-3rauuBG84Ep8lmFLUaomyDopZX9gDI1vx7J4M031bYq5ZQ58y61KNfoG9lUsWgAyyH_1n3JTZoz931WoJyBWPfSZT8QQHrRbU2DEMr2sjy1DwJefZV9xGoZoRF9HHqYmORpGA/s1024/IMG_1753.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="891" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhP0HrasLWC13Q9UxfbeHJfZLFATN39X4QuciDvXUkYUZYanRiK63lq-3rauuBG84Ep8lmFLUaomyDopZX9gDI1vx7J4M031bYq5ZQ58y61KNfoG9lUsWgAyyH_1n3JTZoz931WoJyBWPfSZT8QQHrRbU2DEMr2sjy1DwJefZV9xGoZoRF9HHqYmORpGA/s320/IMG_1753.JPG" width="278" /></a></div>One of the scariest moments of my six days down here was entering the <b>Paper Mill, Sittingbourne (2386 / 3950) </b>- most people's favourite micro in town. An 'intimate' box of a room, no bar, a series of faces lining three of the walls all smile expectantly back at me and welcome me in. 10/10 for friendliness, and horror .... who to ask for a drink? Suddenly, a young quirkster (not Pauline) arrives behind me and awkwardly but quite endearingly has to go and check what the latest cask ale is called. A craft clipboard menu is being passed around, and the lady holding court gives me a go on her 'Where Can I Find Friday?' or is that the one I was drinking? A very interactive place. The chap nearest me once had a free feed with Middlesbrough chairman Steve Gibson, one of his happiest life moments. Craft lady realises we've met before. Of course, we checked in at the Travelodge together and bonded over the absent staff. I should've remembered because she mentioned her invisible disability within seconds of meeting her on both occasions. But does 'being from Weymouth' really count as an invisible disability? It was all very companionable, but a bit intense, and I think on balance, I'd opt for Yellow Stocks if I ever moved to Sittingbourne to live, which I won't.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9oRKbwa9oTVfbhhz48tv6Gp7dM88YwJ9b3hod5KKHTdSqNPglDa4w_C7HIHUOuJjs94QPIOxJcc4tmAnxTeoUeKV5KBF0Eev9MviRizd4VF7kVe8iAEiXoP-SvLz4Nz5L3cl25p5ikduWhvc5DjmqNVo9lkZOSMlQyJMfciUGtSFm_Tp-CZSv6lAlmw/s1024/IMG_1754.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="768" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9oRKbwa9oTVfbhhz48tv6Gp7dM88YwJ9b3hod5KKHTdSqNPglDa4w_C7HIHUOuJjs94QPIOxJcc4tmAnxTeoUeKV5KBF0Eev9MviRizd4VF7kVe8iAEiXoP-SvLz4Nz5L3cl25p5ikduWhvc5DjmqNVo9lkZOSMlQyJMfciUGtSFm_Tp-CZSv6lAlmw/s320/IMG_1754.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Right, it has gone 9pm so I'll call it a day there. Might try this 'fewer pubs per blog' thing so at least I'm keeping things ticking over. Same tomorrow hopefully.</div><div><br /></div><div>The 2023 GBG is imminent, so my blog catch up will have to be abandoned once the cross ticking begins anyway, so I'll keep you posted. </div><div><br /></div><div>Laters, Si <br /><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-7369359438705420832022-09-29T20:09:00.001+01:002022-09-29T20:11:01.348+01:00BRAPA MONTH END REVIEW - SEPTEMBER 2022 : LIVING IN A BRAPSTA'S PARADISE<p><br /></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmEkS9QQ21rEHEtcFaYF9fH7NEn-LYOmNHrnIyzMotBSott4FMtfkAUiYeI3qBxyR0N-8Xu1P_Ehr8Og4vaxhb3mpFvA71YpCwNQNM2JmyaY27l1J-ve6rfkQTVwpmxEn7fW6Y2UVuQ9KteIt3tiAQwmjB2LtQNiY9ndRhdy2LnvtaGdywWmi3ZKBYw/s3088/IMG_1827.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2320" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkmEkS9QQ21rEHEtcFaYF9fH7NEn-LYOmNHrnIyzMotBSott4FMtfkAUiYeI3qBxyR0N-8Xu1P_Ehr8Og4vaxhb3mpFvA71YpCwNQNM2JmyaY27l1J-ve6rfkQTVwpmxEn7fW6Y2UVuQ9KteIt3tiAQwmjB2LtQNiY9ndRhdy2LnvtaGdywWmi3ZKBYw/s320/IMG_1827.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><p><b style="font-weight: bold;">59 </b>pubs for the month, my best 2022 tally and third best ever .... and I would easily have broken my record of 61 if it hadn't been for a demonic combination of <b>wedding do</b> and <b>dentist</b> (not at the same time). </p><p></p><p>Talking of 'BRAPA crappers', another <b>train strike</b> on Saturday (and next Wednesday, and I think the Saturday after that) is threatening to put the brakes on my penultimate BRAPA holiday of 2022, in a county I have zero ticks in. Have you guessed what it is yet? I'm very excited anyway. Can my liver handle eight consecutive days BRAPing? It's just going to have to sup up and shut up innit?!</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HU5moBh5VH6-lokCnZ8o8NsKb1j6ZteDSkTmsZJWoiB2GR4BTjs5XingUaeGG4CeSoTmIlOtxsScDQj2zcXWKdar7Ufw4MElIviRGSOp14TzsFZ9xXq8VkC0IJFtYmDkIvuACSdOccBIJVs9bC_q8Ur5UY_8g8Q_x8eTgfCUxMPTmeQ4u8pb3CxVTg/s3811/IMG_1955.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3811" data-original-width="2785" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4HU5moBh5VH6-lokCnZ8o8NsKb1j6ZteDSkTmsZJWoiB2GR4BTjs5XingUaeGG4CeSoTmIlOtxsScDQj2zcXWKdar7Ufw4MElIviRGSOp14TzsFZ9xXq8VkC0IJFtYmDkIvuACSdOccBIJVs9bC_q8Ur5UY_8g8Q_x8eTgfCUxMPTmeQ4u8pb3CxVTg/s320/IMG_1955.HEIC" width="234" /></a></div><br /><p>I also managed three pre-emptives this month, all of which are a bit Richard Griffiths (pie in the sky, please keep up) , yes my jaw will be on the floor if any of them appear in the next GBG.</p><p>Speaking of which, not long now .... I'm predicting the week commencing 17th Oct, it may be sooner, you never know. I've heard there can be a lot of tedious waiting around when you're on jury service. Cross-ticking mid trial? A new book is much needed anyway, as the front cover which had been hanging by a thread finally fell at the very nice <b>Ship Centurion, Whitstable</b>. </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHlRMkoiL1BHHePmJmU9ktNdR78OAASEWceIgti8Xs7b5xd4AmIw9gYBUTCilXaFHhcJB6nXu-4hLTlGWZ-xcKK67s3te9N8A-xyLBfQEcQw13suexEQFW6ZJLFlfM_nk4EYk7TYtANQxXWc16QQcVLwLcVFkG2jVdE--mkG7K-KvY2-fSnfmJnodIQ/s4032/IMG_1840.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdHlRMkoiL1BHHePmJmU9ktNdR78OAASEWceIgti8Xs7b5xd4AmIw9gYBUTCilXaFHhcJB6nXu-4hLTlGWZ-xcKK67s3te9N8A-xyLBfQEcQw13suexEQFW6ZJLFlfM_nk4EYk7TYtANQxXWc16QQcVLwLcVFkG2jVdE--mkG7K-KvY2-fSnfmJnodIQ/s320/IMG_1840.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Represents the labours of my most intensive ticking year to date</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>My yearly total stands at an astonishing <b>426, </b>only 24 off my 2019 record of 450 pubs. I should be past that sometime next week. Do they do free livers on the NHS if you carry a CAMRA card? I'll even swap it for a sheet of 'Spoons vouchers.</div><div><br /></div><div>The aim is staying above the 50% GBG mark (2250). I'm currently on <b>2415, </b>that'll be up around 2450 by the end of next week, so unless the churn is horrific, I'm quite confident I can manage that. </div><div><br /></div><div>The hardest part of a top ticking month is picking five to put forward for the New Year's Eve 'pub of the year' awards ceremony, so I've decided to pick these eight out because you know, they just felt special at the time ...... it could've been as many as 15 really.</div><div><br /></div><div><b>1. Railway Tavern, Carshalton</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpyqfwa6BkgHxhDJR4S7Z3ShAvgu8IeMi1qgI101xXZ81vi9hcxQT88m2RZ09Utw6NsEs737fc9Wzx00fKMRaVntGNkYBYwGMapbThKO14qxoSM7bSh5InZg0SxPYxPhw2xgNtdUBOyqn0CfemH3lc-wHvhCTmHRgjBAmTFBDD7HHlZ3jMBWVCPUh7g/s3454/IMG_1564.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3454" data-original-width="3022" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvpyqfwa6BkgHxhDJR4S7Z3ShAvgu8IeMi1qgI101xXZ81vi9hcxQT88m2RZ09Utw6NsEs737fc9Wzx00fKMRaVntGNkYBYwGMapbThKO14qxoSM7bSh5InZg0SxPYxPhw2xgNtdUBOyqn0CfemH3lc-wHvhCTmHRgjBAmTFBDD7HHlZ3jMBWVCPUh7g/s320/IMG_1564.HEIC" width="280" /></a></div><br /><b>2. Cob & Coal Tap, Oldham</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsIzBpuKHrjZX0w7THx_bDa7e6WeVSB-WnRqJl-JcadaPoUJjP70SW23PBIRpZ2DF1tu2XpB1KcMznCy5fDSWt2Hnj7MoRXtIWh3yXNO76BaJoWzlhBh8aMQ0Fmv1nweGD1gFhws6ILSQxNw5HBKn5mkG3JNSPEOL3UNqCRe7hgqPteihwtoUhjhmyWQ/s4032/IMG_1608.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsIzBpuKHrjZX0w7THx_bDa7e6WeVSB-WnRqJl-JcadaPoUJjP70SW23PBIRpZ2DF1tu2XpB1KcMznCy5fDSWt2Hnj7MoRXtIWh3yXNO76BaJoWzlhBh8aMQ0Fmv1nweGD1gFhws6ILSQxNw5HBKn5mkG3JNSPEOL3UNqCRe7hgqPteihwtoUhjhmyWQ/s320/IMG_1608.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b>3. Andrew Buchan, Cardiff</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyAn39oLqxuMIJRjodEkLBtEGSENP-IFWMDTlR3PrJGd27OQL5JxCx0wTg_8gY1hDtsAxBd_Do3KUQnF3z3OVC1D51ve3QxXTrHWGbMpfsoAh96lg70uhwrHEnp1waO2sdyXmazyD1-IgPGp2onOQ5fJnAwkbZF9D3FLot1-ef10J_IYW3mEzDaox2Wg/s4032/IMG_1680.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyAn39oLqxuMIJRjodEkLBtEGSENP-IFWMDTlR3PrJGd27OQL5JxCx0wTg_8gY1hDtsAxBd_Do3KUQnF3z3OVC1D51ve3QxXTrHWGbMpfsoAh96lg70uhwrHEnp1waO2sdyXmazyD1-IgPGp2onOQ5fJnAwkbZF9D3FLot1-ef10J_IYW3mEzDaox2Wg/s320/IMG_1680.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b>4. Rifle Volunteers, Maidstone</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7_NoESCryIeWavii_-Mj0q5MGqgfa04rBjCZl6K_1P3IsvEKAKAbOtKIyCkFEWVJznQGEKYJycxF8wMFjDSc8q7wGFUKHZvhOn1gjLUwbkR-uDPixQh8TYWsgklse49Xxq3jr6Iz64uIyvsqx46km2MTFgYhDOe5dQ2Nmxtth9CBz3rDGddJEo46ww/s4032/IMG_1786.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg7_NoESCryIeWavii_-Mj0q5MGqgfa04rBjCZl6K_1P3IsvEKAKAbOtKIyCkFEWVJznQGEKYJycxF8wMFjDSc8q7wGFUKHZvhOn1gjLUwbkR-uDPixQh8TYWsgklse49Xxq3jr6Iz64uIyvsqx46km2MTFgYhDOe5dQ2Nmxtth9CBz3rDGddJEo46ww/s320/IMG_1786.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>5. New Inn, Canterbury</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJgBPwighEjZ9DsFHeOX5Mt8jmjGsT_usF7uAHg0P1lxJJuFxC4SX77WNKoSZK_dKFpf4jxh8eJdkq5QBC2yiAESglCl8zEYz0CHRjCU0Ml6Iwx5x0EwjWV9ukgoOBsLQ2yZccbO308Znv00lr6dBwwMvQcviY-hYMwKT1rJyuuitO7ACJxCKJ7WutQ/s3232/IMG_1825.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3232" data-original-width="2471" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJgBPwighEjZ9DsFHeOX5Mt8jmjGsT_usF7uAHg0P1lxJJuFxC4SX77WNKoSZK_dKFpf4jxh8eJdkq5QBC2yiAESglCl8zEYz0CHRjCU0Ml6Iwx5x0EwjWV9ukgoOBsLQ2yZccbO308Znv00lr6dBwwMvQcviY-hYMwKT1rJyuuitO7ACJxCKJ7WutQ/s320/IMG_1825.HEIC" width="245" /></a></div><br /><b>6. Bell & Jorrocks, Frittenden</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrL4fSLQ3QkKBe1HSax9QbzjaeCBLVfzU95jYtqZ8jLMrVRlJaDfKWPZJ_d1Bw_XzOs0X-OopoDCWEPkmsoLZEDl3W78psXFtVX_QKaN7vPWfR5goNDm_Tp-d6RyVqGBzlnvY9s2apPzOQaBFpLhVaykWN53EawaVWCiJLXUzkflmmBjxHcVmLJG08A/s4032/IMG_1888.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDrL4fSLQ3QkKBe1HSax9QbzjaeCBLVfzU95jYtqZ8jLMrVRlJaDfKWPZJ_d1Bw_XzOs0X-OopoDCWEPkmsoLZEDl3W78psXFtVX_QKaN7vPWfR5goNDm_Tp-d6RyVqGBzlnvY9s2apPzOQaBFpLhVaykWN53EawaVWCiJLXUzkflmmBjxHcVmLJG08A/s320/IMG_1888.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><b>7. Shipwright's Arms, Hollowshore</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWuQNc7WTzE8K6B0i4CxnL8hfS-Gt-FnqrHE281KFAEYyXg-WLI1jMeS1tYuMZq93rISq0Ftv_YsFK0x_Npw0ez6NIEL96FPRrr_lL9ddmwstb7ZTnwLbdueHavEupMYyvTd8yr3NtSGU9TscWzLbDtMfJsPW1SVTsKZCZ4AZqmRUj9aKF71MHVMc8g/s4032/IMG_1938.HEIC" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiWuQNc7WTzE8K6B0i4CxnL8hfS-Gt-FnqrHE281KFAEYyXg-WLI1jMeS1tYuMZq93rISq0Ftv_YsFK0x_Npw0ez6NIEL96FPRrr_lL9ddmwstb7ZTnwLbdueHavEupMYyvTd8yr3NtSGU9TscWzLbDtMfJsPW1SVTsKZCZ4AZqmRUj9aKF71MHVMc8g/s320/IMG_1938.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><b><br /></b></div><div><b>8. Elephant, Faversham</b></div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VhvarN3ZDlK-hCSU0LIDn8cBlhnrtXbwHGnKOS6RIqXQs9M3TA1BzVyn8T0MAyabrEPEiEuUDpBPoPbsZbB_xEJCrno5_gXGcFMFTze4rGTMsVg9-v62bs3nnf0uOnZBTR8HqBb74nN46fl8Ryn4Gf38d08kXu9rak5BBYKI74AVrbCkL_A_XZMujg/s1024/IMG_1956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="792" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2VhvarN3ZDlK-hCSU0LIDn8cBlhnrtXbwHGnKOS6RIqXQs9M3TA1BzVyn8T0MAyabrEPEiEuUDpBPoPbsZbB_xEJCrno5_gXGcFMFTze4rGTMsVg9-v62bs3nnf0uOnZBTR8HqBb74nN46fl8Ryn4Gf38d08kXu9rak5BBYKI74AVrbCkL_A_XZMujg/s320/IMG_1956.JPG" width="248" /></a></div><br />Makes me kind of thirsty for the month ahead seeing those photos again. Sober October? Could never be me. See you in a weird location on Saturday, if I make it. </div><div><br /></div><div>Take care & keep supporting the pubs, </div><div><br /></div><div>Si </div><div><b><br /></b></div><div><br /><p><br /></p></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-59785404081181101542022-09-28T21:11:00.000+01:002022-09-28T21:11:22.568+01:00BRAPA .... FROM THE DOG END OF CARDIFF TO THE CAT'S WHISKERS OF NORTH KENT<p>Cardiff seemed pretty wired on this particular Saturday night. No doubt they all wanted to give QE2 a resounding send off in the only way they know how, by getting smashed. </p><p>Daddy BRAPA had made the sensible decision to head back to the hotel at this point. I cannot afford to be so sensible, it isn't in the spirit of pub ticking. His final act was to photograph me outside this particularly lively Wetherspoons ....</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6RKoh9qMaV-floQpb-e6xc4ix-AT1LIHs587v5Hn2VZmoN6BECvzY2CZ16nEibGGb2kRyBe488pCO5EDoqITUCxf68PoEr2le7aOVoGiJb_qXrShRvXnLgcE_LMSrpsGWSrDDNx-Dc8FL3cRY_q5YzSC66xEZC8KVxO5WoeqkoBPF9kjbbcpG20iag/s4032/IMG_1681.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6RKoh9qMaV-floQpb-e6xc4ix-AT1LIHs587v5Hn2VZmoN6BECvzY2CZ16nEibGGb2kRyBe488pCO5EDoqITUCxf68PoEr2le7aOVoGiJb_qXrShRvXnLgcE_LMSrpsGWSrDDNx-Dc8FL3cRY_q5YzSC66xEZC8KVxO5WoeqkoBPF9kjbbcpG20iag/w150-h200/IMG_1681.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div>Party time at <b>Central Bar, Cardiff (2379 / 3943) </b>, it could be the Saturday before Christmas judging by the huge groups of yoofs - women in Welsh jumpsuits, men with square shoulders and huge bodies but tiny pinheads and skinny legs. I'm so astonished to get served without delay, I forget to hand over a Mudgie voucher, but the Oakham JHB is on song and exactly the sort of ale I need in this, my seventh pub. Of course, folk are generally sheep, possibly in Wales more than other places, and are all congregating around the bar and middle of the room. I slither through the crowds like a Yorkshire snake and find a welcome amount of space by the far wall, not far from the bogs. I can observe these curious beasts from a safe distance now. And the next 25 minutes passes without incident, which rarely in the world of BRAPA, is exactly what I was hoping for. <div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjbGRJ1h1p98tN48xk1yacALhxOehix1pEpLAV08AxqyiVxXgsu2vTlAQJZT4aKf6567gA05KU3X-FgZlcns6_SFK9zeyke8k9vVP7z8qrIu8FD791Sjq-Xez9l-NOa6mV6_tqgGulFiIg_cW1fb-IKKBqWHK0JFbEw0gxOmbf_6VB4TsOB6E4w7vXjg/s3613/IMG_1682.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3613" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjbGRJ1h1p98tN48xk1yacALhxOehix1pEpLAV08AxqyiVxXgsu2vTlAQJZT4aKf6567gA05KU3X-FgZlcns6_SFK9zeyke8k9vVP7z8qrIu8FD791Sjq-Xez9l-NOa6mV6_tqgGulFiIg_cW1fb-IKKBqWHK0JFbEw0gxOmbf_6VB4TsOB6E4w7vXjg/w168-h200/IMG_1682.HEIC" width="168" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Could've been £1.99, but never mind</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBFtEmmpTSxSQL7L4DVcW5qJCT2Ju_G2G4UBleyPyadCO3Ko4oKckYglPVrlqek5ZSB8O5yJWzMnFlGPKxgHegRZ8A8bPP9BCjgFJ_6FFpcGaLNA5IEyBp7GIfeaDs_eNV80xIgwy_SXOUowBGYdJUIrQVl-LnDP8XBu1FpSueONGFzAw_Wtug0XJwVA/s4032/IMG_1683.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBFtEmmpTSxSQL7L4DVcW5qJCT2Ju_G2G4UBleyPyadCO3Ko4oKckYglPVrlqek5ZSB8O5yJWzMnFlGPKxgHegRZ8A8bPP9BCjgFJ_6FFpcGaLNA5IEyBp7GIfeaDs_eNV80xIgwy_SXOUowBGYdJUIrQVl-LnDP8XBu1FpSueONGFzAw_Wtug0XJwVA/w150-h200/IMG_1683.HEIC" width="150" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is that a dragon?</td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQrEPNbh1Ns7vWPWZ1o-g229xqw8ZNaLLhZ7bDzjWCTa9bV-rnX_fP_of01crEDGqyDZDag0UY5OlvVOxB95BwyYvhTFP2YEYe2DQ2ZQPtd3u5AawuCj50EYxvDXq8ns62KyjPpDQPI6FLTJqPHdtWLBGPD4tLInq186IshG-0yiuY3YUU1Oreihgng/s4030/IMG_1685.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2432" data-original-width="4030" height="241" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrQrEPNbh1Ns7vWPWZ1o-g229xqw8ZNaLLhZ7bDzjWCTa9bV-rnX_fP_of01crEDGqyDZDag0UY5OlvVOxB95BwyYvhTFP2YEYe2DQ2ZQPtd3u5AawuCj50EYxvDXq8ns62KyjPpDQPI6FLTJqPHdtWLBGPD4tLInq186IshG-0yiuY3YUU1Oreihgng/w400-h241/IMG_1685.HEIC" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqPMAz2oyeKcvBy38UbYrlJjOXOjpteLNquMOlx1-sCJFw9fqUrEeVBjrvzJmYvQ9OisMg27LGjJUYr7sgj1Tj6ZSVNYB2Z1llO5QpwQ4wRyn77ck3CrnFkgTUMhAcRqv2Wf-xAvnGJhmo6TmSwJSA19ndoJIAHA2rAsLv9JcHrCBossIOHnF7YEI5A/s720/IMG_1693.PNG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="720" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifqPMAz2oyeKcvBy38UbYrlJjOXOjpteLNquMOlx1-sCJFw9fqUrEeVBjrvzJmYvQ9OisMg27LGjJUYr7sgj1Tj6ZSVNYB2Z1llO5QpwQ4wRyn77ck3CrnFkgTUMhAcRqv2Wf-xAvnGJhmo6TmSwJSA19ndoJIAHA2rAsLv9JcHrCBossIOHnF7YEI5A/w200-h178/IMG_1693.PNG" width="200" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not quite what the locals were wearing, but you get the idea</td></tr></tbody></table><br />I'd spied a GBG pub just across the road. Pub eight? Ugghh. But it'd be rude not to pop in and get it ticked, providing my eyes were focused and not at all drunk .....<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjbUyazB9pIdN0cuAvB6Q5GK2NyLRYpnE9GEPI_4KjUKHwY0abKvxeUE4wEfdcgtjmw_HZoyFCRsIclnywyPhMGP7G_hLXBaHAv3DV9P7kLdkUBBaGxfOMpvYpXoMk8UGCL3_OuHNiEOb8COQJROGISYzsYjwOmmIBrQVic55BA9vOF1e_-7ncjO6yGg/s3012/IMG_1688.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3012" data-original-width="2048" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjbUyazB9pIdN0cuAvB6Q5GK2NyLRYpnE9GEPI_4KjUKHwY0abKvxeUE4wEfdcgtjmw_HZoyFCRsIclnywyPhMGP7G_hLXBaHAv3DV9P7kLdkUBBaGxfOMpvYpXoMk8UGCL3_OuHNiEOb8COQJROGISYzsYjwOmmIBrQVic55BA9vOF1e_-7ncjO6yGg/w136-h200/IMG_1688.HEIC" width="136" /></a></div><br /><div>Good to go ... let's crack on. </div><div><br /></div><div>Bit of a surprise how fuzzy the pub looked on arrival, considering my extreme sobriety, I guess it looks just as blurry during the day. If you've ever been, I'd be interested to know. </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggbJJHXYgwfosyWq8FsQOkP3JfqtXNdCq77yQ00DeEMvvjka3NnHpX6dRh43mYKXJOH5AzCEUoVwJz0gRqGozp-8X6X7qZnGSRMLn_PwxaGBFquwidGh70tDIfbl4xDW8z6eLSvzvx_868VkUCvKBYHUcN20M5Prq5MW9CDh8zuaKoAy_9ZcH8udMa1g/s4032/IMG_1689.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggbJJHXYgwfosyWq8FsQOkP3JfqtXNdCq77yQ00DeEMvvjka3NnHpX6dRh43mYKXJOH5AzCEUoVwJz0gRqGozp-8X6X7qZnGSRMLn_PwxaGBFquwidGh70tDIfbl4xDW8z6eLSvzvx_868VkUCvKBYHUcN20M5Prq5MW9CDh8zuaKoAy_9ZcH8udMa1g/w150-h200/IMG_1689.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div>Funny how crossing a road can make such a difference. <b>Flute & Tankard, Cardiff (2380 / 3944) </b>must have an invisible forcefield surrounding it to keep the Spoonsie scum out. A gentler, calmer, loungier Saturday night atmosphere this close to a throbbing city centre you could not wish to find. A man with the voice of an audiobook serves me a pint of 'Rush Hour', heavy traffic on the pump clip, again it was in huge contrast to the surrounds. The only customer on the move is an oldish man with a glass of red wine. He looks a bit lost and has the gait of a gorilla, his arms brushing against the floor as he walks aimless around. There were so few folk about, I even felt quite comfortable eating my pickled onion monster munch quite openly, which I'd recently purchased from a nearby Tesco Express. I'm not sure that in all circumstances this pub would have enough to hold the BRAPA interest, but late on a Saturday night, eight pints to the good, there's nowhere I'd have rather been.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijVDr7jUXWTqzXM2Az_FTjXHPvjrSkU--5E2B_Di4xWoixpNAj335aiI4squ4u6wAnsS2tO6WVaGD92GfVTEe_aNKco5XULw1JYuUKKvw8pBF7mrAhXLZHR4xscvYxn470LB9F2smv38K859MTrARre7UZCBI3_lW9WNgXYhftizdFCv-78Yg9dyvSFA/s4032/IMG_1691.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijVDr7jUXWTqzXM2Az_FTjXHPvjrSkU--5E2B_Di4xWoixpNAj335aiI4squ4u6wAnsS2tO6WVaGD92GfVTEe_aNKco5XULw1JYuUKKvw8pBF7mrAhXLZHR4xscvYxn470LB9F2smv38K859MTrARre7UZCBI3_lW9WNgXYhftizdFCv-78Yg9dyvSFA/w150-h200/IMG_1691.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9vC2Kno84MNQjI97-EBSZ6t7sJF2t1e6_OYgsRpQQ56AS-pziwoFBbqxRTYi5Dg40PP_pQMxeg4vNRnSfvWEF449abtUpDaNjpkRvUI_puazNU7N_aGs9GJVo-HNopEJ1AkoA1Yg2LWJ1b6Dpko1l4I7UMnxyRUrrl4h1NiwpizXfCN4ABt493WQUw/s4032/IMG_1690.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiv9vC2Kno84MNQjI97-EBSZ6t7sJF2t1e6_OYgsRpQQ56AS-pziwoFBbqxRTYi5Dg40PP_pQMxeg4vNRnSfvWEF449abtUpDaNjpkRvUI_puazNU7N_aGs9GJVo-HNopEJ1AkoA1Yg2LWJ1b6Dpko1l4I7UMnxyRUrrl4h1NiwpizXfCN4ABt493WQUw/w150-h200/IMG_1690.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqkG2bTwD-IqcPZJ6PmjUsQTyRvMPRWTjNO1Rxdm7n1DleVIDp2_fhGyq536B5fWLqINH7ck78NnUU1l3h0gK53Y7fREC2UnU3UlQ0ZYJ25dA4cvCxrySmUhi552jcITXcsiv8PKqWHnGDfWCMEyLk2cYkjZb13lcCAA247NNTVBt9dAUk0Frk8BRZg/s4032/IMG_1692.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoqkG2bTwD-IqcPZJ6PmjUsQTyRvMPRWTjNO1Rxdm7n1DleVIDp2_fhGyq536B5fWLqINH7ck78NnUU1l3h0gK53Y7fREC2UnU3UlQ0ZYJ25dA4cvCxrySmUhi552jcITXcsiv8PKqWHnGDfWCMEyLk2cYkjZb13lcCAA247NNTVBt9dAUk0Frk8BRZg/w150-h200/IMG_1692.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">Fast forward to the following Saturday, and the first of two quick-fire BRAPA holidays was just about to get underway in Sittingbourne, although with hindsight, basing myself in Maidstone would've made more sense.</span></span></div><div><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">I've often heard Kent referred to as the 'Garden of England'. But having now been to Gillingham thrice, Maidstone, Ashford, Chatham, Hythe & Dymchurch, I can't help but wonder if the garden in question belongs to Fred West.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div>Despite sleeping in by two hours, missing my alarm and my train, I made up the time superbly and arriving in Gillingham for 12 noon hadn't seemed possible three hours earlier. What is more, the Gills were at home today to (bloody rubbish) Mansfield, which increased my chances of ticking this football pub of peculiar opening hours ....</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuh7gFdbbbr5RsSVDldJ2KkXtSBLhWQD5njIVfUhp6veBEYRzxOzSNnLprXXnriigb4e60zr-qXU9JcnN_r0YTw_NWGMETCsdLNQaafJlYwolfuydTPqTW8UcfRZjL9lEANgcX-uNXuBmOpQE1dN0Mr-x2qi55oFjV1FVXdSiunb72Blk_SfDzmoU_4w/s2384/IMG_1718.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2174" data-original-width="2384" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuh7gFdbbbr5RsSVDldJ2KkXtSBLhWQD5njIVfUhp6veBEYRzxOzSNnLprXXnriigb4e60zr-qXU9JcnN_r0YTw_NWGMETCsdLNQaafJlYwolfuydTPqTW8UcfRZjL9lEANgcX-uNXuBmOpQE1dN0Mr-x2qi55oFjV1FVXdSiunb72Blk_SfDzmoU_4w/s320/IMG_1718.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div>If the frontage and fontage seem to have a decidedly 'eastern' feel at the <b>Will Adams, Gillingham (2381 / 3945)</b>, it is no coincidence. Will is Gillingham's most famous export (well, unless you count James Jordan off Strictly) - an explorer who went to Japan, made it big, became a samurai, and weirdly, never felt compelled to return to the town. I walk in and confuse the locals with the Hull City badge on my jacket. There isn't a visiting Stag in sight, only five Gills men littering the bar and laughing heartily. The vested barman serves me this glorious Oakham guest (first truly good pint I've ever drunk in the town), a local asks me about Tom Eaves, and the barman passes me a story book on Will Adams but tells me not to lose it or spill on it or burn or tear or destroy it, because it is their only copy. He's heard about my GBG hasn't he? I'm feeling the pressure. But finally, a Gillingham pub I can truly call great (yes, I liked the Past & Present pongy micro for what it was) but as true pubs serving good ale with good folk, Gillingham has a winner. <br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYk3MJoQP5cHrAK6fvk_-qGJ5QpP6t7bAEqRCQz95c8FzKdSjYG0p3OLGmyClLRf0l8mMr1vs4ZBAYtTu-kkXKU4sJkVNAdMSn6Z1PCePnQ0su5jNeO4QSBlEJIByth5pXFimXiIBW5-pQA7gAlaW06cNNw5rKdfRR66SXwBzCyz4mOWsr_o8PPnQcw/s4032/IMG_1719.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxYk3MJoQP5cHrAK6fvk_-qGJ5QpP6t7bAEqRCQz95c8FzKdSjYG0p3OLGmyClLRf0l8mMr1vs4ZBAYtTu-kkXKU4sJkVNAdMSn6Z1PCePnQ0su5jNeO4QSBlEJIByth5pXFimXiIBW5-pQA7gAlaW06cNNw5rKdfRR66SXwBzCyz4mOWsr_o8PPnQcw/w150-h200/IMG_1719.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFX6qGTigeL2sbwmxMURQSM33_zzateI0Enyg_72sJA3egzzQnwelw3IiNfAnBj_rlcLYW8j6TCgu6gi4q7h7EsJw1muHiYSphBK-I6EnRsywibe-YcbZx-8CWqsAa5EGklHTM0srypB9YDtgX8JZ7vHtyB86eVnNMyHOFsje9TP_PR_UgZNyc0k_5A/s3174/IMG_1721.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3174" data-original-width="2974" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwFX6qGTigeL2sbwmxMURQSM33_zzateI0Enyg_72sJA3egzzQnwelw3IiNfAnBj_rlcLYW8j6TCgu6gi4q7h7EsJw1muHiYSphBK-I6EnRsywibe-YcbZx-8CWqsAa5EGklHTM0srypB9YDtgX8JZ7vHtyB86eVnNMyHOFsje9TP_PR_UgZNyc0k_5A/w188-h200/IMG_1721.HEIC" width="188" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TrVQo7VXwz2Jd1So3cPVqXG98oi10MwYn4Fr6XWc3rBkIGwdoVATUT-4n6BZCCwIF416YjXkOzqOCZQI9glDOHqBWNq2NUR2Tibf3VFxA2-6tnacatAGv2LTQ7g76bKHmKcQ4BuG-_ypCgU_o5n58tVSuXTxM0_WgAyDyHfLqUZC9e6HFmhHdrYvcg/s4032/IMG_1722.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8TrVQo7VXwz2Jd1So3cPVqXG98oi10MwYn4Fr6XWc3rBkIGwdoVATUT-4n6BZCCwIF416YjXkOzqOCZQI9glDOHqBWNq2NUR2Tibf3VFxA2-6tnacatAGv2LTQ7g76bKHmKcQ4BuG-_ypCgU_o5n58tVSuXTxM0_WgAyDyHfLqUZC9e6HFmhHdrYvcg/w150-h200/IMG_1722.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM5G18qa4UTUslw1irypZqL34KZjli6yyUHQqeMEtIYsTMBMgRjgNDJfVx0ISYK2WAH4hM2ejt6R8yH4dbAQRKupAYIuGGsxyt_P3CVRCtYWrfcoIl94mMB_XUGykSlmwXXU956UziDxmWNko_CAntWOIM4uzbc93F9VIXFJ6eyhxCC5gi9uLHD9u9MA/s4032/IMG_1723.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM5G18qa4UTUslw1irypZqL34KZjli6yyUHQqeMEtIYsTMBMgRjgNDJfVx0ISYK2WAH4hM2ejt6R8yH4dbAQRKupAYIuGGsxyt_P3CVRCtYWrfcoIl94mMB_XUGykSlmwXXU956UziDxmWNko_CAntWOIM4uzbc93F9VIXFJ6eyhxCC5gi9uLHD9u9MA/w150-h200/IMG_1723.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF142yjsnxiHGd9ogfQ1VUhPRimUuh-QF3QDRF1iSWPS4Djk3Q7gTn7MFG3Tho94zl7RcfQR35u3ozER3N0mEairgLcFK90R_2B_OxuszIGYkM7ZAGN6qlrFzo2oh1Vrq1515zCMbyFjQFQhJDLBDBZXcLpBT6FX_ds89kF9CCHNCTLdTSw1rkW7zxyA/s3429/IMG_1724.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3429" data-original-width="2648" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjF142yjsnxiHGd9ogfQ1VUhPRimUuh-QF3QDRF1iSWPS4Djk3Q7gTn7MFG3Tho94zl7RcfQR35u3ozER3N0mEairgLcFK90R_2B_OxuszIGYkM7ZAGN6qlrFzo2oh1Vrq1515zCMbyFjQFQhJDLBDBZXcLpBT6FX_ds89kF9CCHNCTLdTSw1rkW7zxyA/s320/IMG_1724.HEIC" width="247" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">I made my way across to Sittingbourne, but still way off my 3pm check in time, so I decided to get a couple of Micros ticked off, although lugging your heavy bags around any pub isn't ideal, especially micros.</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4D8nveFUxVBzBDf5vPLLxmSuwMSrjzJYFe_Dzruh56kddaYPIcot5uoyNI9TQgU20pQ-DuQsUgObGTRpVpHPcXEE0lEHH4Af9_akDYYlDHLp3azG00mZ5K7cIW-X8oQelygiNLgmd-lIZkvod580sm1r7CljASiybQ2qZazk3NoKcxAMqrO4x2OroJQ/s4032/IMG_1726.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4D8nveFUxVBzBDf5vPLLxmSuwMSrjzJYFe_Dzruh56kddaYPIcot5uoyNI9TQgU20pQ-DuQsUgObGTRpVpHPcXEE0lEHH4Af9_akDYYlDHLp3azG00mZ5K7cIW-X8oQelygiNLgmd-lIZkvod580sm1r7CljASiybQ2qZazk3NoKcxAMqrO4x2OroJQ/s320/IMG_1726.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><b>Yellow Stocks, Sittingbourne (2382 / 3946) </b>picked up where Will Adams had left off with a cracking, homely welcome. An excitable young chap with the same voice as Cockney Rejects lead singer causes shocked gasps when he declares he isn't a huge Goachers fan, one of the leading local breweries around these Kentish parts. We bond over a delicious liquorice mild. He causes more gasps my declaring the Paper Mill his favourite Sittingbourne pub - top marks for bravery. The couple who run the pub are fabulous though, and soon I'm regaling the small room with BRAPA this, BRAPA that (the poor buggers), even though a sourpuss of an old woman behind scowls at me in a 'Harry Enfield doing an impression of Deborah Meaden' type of way. As the other customer's slope off, a young lady appears from the garden and says "can I get/grab a .... <insert drink name here>. Landlady hates this particular Americanism import, which reminds me I must stop calling people 'guys' every two seconds. I'd forgotten Hull City are playing, early kick off at Swansea, 0-0 58 minutes gone. I spy this pub has a 'real' lager on called Racing Tiger. "I better have a half, push us on to victory" I tell our hosts. Soon, they are chanting 'Come on youuuu 'Ullll!' as I take my first sips. Five minutes later, we are 2-0 down. Oh dear, never trust lager. Loveliest lager I've ever tried ever, mind. They send me off to Donna's Ale House, saying I should definitely ask if you get a free gin with every pint, just to wind them up. So I say I will. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOe-3izCeFzyEDnyq-ch_QUcnlqW6QC0El97sOpXc3aASj63loylahZjNpaXd-kxjckVWFpFRTWtrxLf0EkxNQLZfEnEaB1WFGlE2uRZoiUpmqKi2bzWKZnP7GkyeRFGnG6DUTxn3BiblKWBEH8mkYOqSZB7uPcqHFiO2Cdifc_ssYA5H9rqSAGrqObw/s4032/IMG_1727.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOe-3izCeFzyEDnyq-ch_QUcnlqW6QC0El97sOpXc3aASj63loylahZjNpaXd-kxjckVWFpFRTWtrxLf0EkxNQLZfEnEaB1WFGlE2uRZoiUpmqKi2bzWKZnP7GkyeRFGnG6DUTxn3BiblKWBEH8mkYOqSZB7uPcqHFiO2Cdifc_ssYA5H9rqSAGrqObw/w150-h200/IMG_1727.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_cvaKdcuyZVUM-Y2f3o2Al6pSzcUYCIKicG4HClkpDsq-LuQnIr_8MBlrhlgKrTckYu1AnrpYtSCjQJEhgKfA6xbhCv_NcsNpUBW7Zlcov-q02dAR1ynxL-GdX7gf_XUo6mzNwloWIsiT0e9FiLoINMhxvoCGpmQnKALXDEbkuSONRnRzXmw87kmVyA/s4032/IMG_1728.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pSrI-MF5M98/YzRxwFNLTVI/AAAAAAABTzI/5rIGlvBufwkfxCViQwfRaQhnKeBFJ7x4wCPcBGAsYHg/s4032/IMG_1731.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-pSrI-MF5M98/YzRxwFNLTVI/AAAAAAABTzI/5rIGlvBufwkfxCViQwfRaQhnKeBFJ7x4wCPcBGAsYHg/w150-h200/IMG_1731.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvj5IITNDOIigSEvY1MeWcCsSPozl-T2Ho4p3udcP3_6jjQGVKjgDlv4-W8nusOo57ZISrxM8bZY3PlY6Mj_4vD7HCKQQ_XJTlc9Q0QDbDudsTaqCnGWFjOqUOjNL0ztYm9Q8TWFNWgkneMmPcATGcDXJmbzUE5fmqJi8X4iGLaBtxJad6UaRO3eRGOw/s4032/IMG_1732.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvj5IITNDOIigSEvY1MeWcCsSPozl-T2Ho4p3udcP3_6jjQGVKjgDlv4-W8nusOo57ZISrxM8bZY3PlY6Mj_4vD7HCKQQ_XJTlc9Q0QDbDudsTaqCnGWFjOqUOjNL0ztYm9Q8TWFNWgkneMmPcATGcDXJmbzUE5fmqJi8X4iGLaBtxJad6UaRO3eRGOw/w150-h200/IMG_1732.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-aNriPlmzIQPmoDxEhvpLpr3uDD6d_BnP658J2Iw4wlMB1vF0We1jTx9eaDzZn9U6ydiUVSAfKARS8GNxpNcRMCUj_mqJ0ulaKGVJ9C2XkgyZoJVCIxg768SVtVbxTBBUyOdIJarzVCl9-l841bIvQEudG55168NguFKJRY0sTc1G2mSWSqAy_NQ1A/s4032/IMG_1733.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4-aNriPlmzIQPmoDxEhvpLpr3uDD6d_BnP658J2Iw4wlMB1vF0We1jTx9eaDzZn9U6ydiUVSAfKARS8GNxpNcRMCUj_mqJ0ulaKGVJ9C2XkgyZoJVCIxg768SVtVbxTBBUyOdIJarzVCl9-l841bIvQEudG55168NguFKJRY0sTc1G2mSWSqAy_NQ1A/w150-h200/IMG_1733.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVeNDvsKBxKK0W-goOmnFht3vCCaLyo5Afi8uX-AnXvFyW4V2MvqPr_Upc3R8PeyM_P5JnTZ_e-ruQOnDovrUMW19aUKPNQTNB89GR_NL9VhNNmkkBKNXQ78bF3KxpvkVKnW5URE-aHwD3oqUd2VCESxsWU5Fc85uEf9pDovaHwnqv0CdFTI3o-rsp3A/s4032/IMG_1734.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVeNDvsKBxKK0W-goOmnFht3vCCaLyo5Afi8uX-AnXvFyW4V2MvqPr_Upc3R8PeyM_P5JnTZ_e-ruQOnDovrUMW19aUKPNQTNB89GR_NL9VhNNmkkBKNXQ78bF3KxpvkVKnW5URE-aHwD3oqUd2VCESxsWU5Fc85uEf9pDovaHwnqv0CdFTI3o-rsp3A/s320/IMG_1734.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div>Little did I know at the time of my visit that <b>Donna's Ale House, Sittingbourne (2383 / 3947) </b>would possibly be my most divisive pub of the week. THREE people, all independently of each other, would tell me a tale of woe that has stopped them from every returning here. One guy was even accused of stealing stuff when he swears he hadn't! Crikey. I didn't think the layout was particularly conducive to the kind of conversation Kent's plethora of micropubs are famed for. Partitioned, dull, chilly, meandering. I ask for a pint of 'Huell Melon' (Hull City 3-0 down now, playing like a bunch of melons). I'm pleased when a jolly bloke behind me pipes up "you have to say it like you are puking up ... like HUEERRRL". That rare moment of bonhomie gives me the confidence to ask the barman "I've just been in Yellow Stocks and I've been asked to ask you if it's true you get a free gin with every pint?" (This place is more famous for its gin range than its beers). Of course he tells me no. I walk away with a "ha, thought not!", but he's not finished yet. "Would you go in Yellow Stocks and ask for a whisky with every pint ... no you wouldn't!" he shouts after me. Ooops, the lame joke / mischief making didn't translate. I sit outside, cos the inside is depressing. Outside is quite depressing too. A young family are playing Uno, but the cards keep blowing away. When the Dad, who has sent his Mum n son to get him a pint of Dudda's Tun cider, can't get the specific flavour he wants, he abandons his even younger daughter to go inside and quiz the staff on the Dudda's range. The Wetherspoons opposite looks more enticing at this point, I must admit. At least it is now 3pm, and I can check into my hotel.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bw7xGdgOXmfzVGE7LBkvLIN14I0PsqQKrR_kb9hHx81T6ijJiOetzwO8VegNYCdoomB1Lf3h3MnsxPpAoLdOxM7K-TsyH7VL_IrOTmz01feLBSCjzF43gWBQ624bBfyIpffhbZOEkRnhdTP0s7gmWAYp-qOeJ_8iSCYCcIOIb9lK24CbzlF8Skt4-A/s4032/IMG_1735.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5bw7xGdgOXmfzVGE7LBkvLIN14I0PsqQKrR_kb9hHx81T6ijJiOetzwO8VegNYCdoomB1Lf3h3MnsxPpAoLdOxM7K-TsyH7VL_IrOTmz01feLBSCjzF43gWBQ624bBfyIpffhbZOEkRnhdTP0s7gmWAYp-qOeJ_8iSCYCcIOIb9lK24CbzlF8Skt4-A/w150-h200/IMG_1735.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2a8Qek6rqB6hFJXJQHN71nnhEhJerBW431t1eErD8wAIRJ27oSO7Zas5tiQlFFSzrUTtqlCAYUEoDveRgTUhCQO1O6MYTc6GMhikqa6tvWrNOLYho8t0nIKIDCdxnS34C2HcP2eg1LsiOuBFGSUqWqlk0xmy2LdTnkS3PzuG6SsafJIGspjzPYYFOg/s4032/IMG_1736.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgF2a8Qek6rqB6hFJXJQHN71nnhEhJerBW431t1eErD8wAIRJ27oSO7Zas5tiQlFFSzrUTtqlCAYUEoDveRgTUhCQO1O6MYTc6GMhikqa6tvWrNOLYho8t0nIKIDCdxnS34C2HcP2eg1LsiOuBFGSUqWqlk0xmy2LdTnkS3PzuG6SsafJIGspjzPYYFOg/w150-h200/IMG_1736.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidXs50iZc-GIXGLIR2opjBOfJEO5moWLU4_FkJ260PR_PEjb4HAa2FNNYVjTql88qFk4_6sZn3-G5rzRZ15s4i1jQ6ln4Yqq0F-IWpqq0Fz2aAxc6Cc9Oj5gMixm5hV_QbSGUOepwncCFeGb5yTZPRLg0AdAO8SWWLVD4uVc270y1jmNooaLBXyzr2QQ/s4032/IMG_1739.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidXs50iZc-GIXGLIR2opjBOfJEO5moWLU4_FkJ260PR_PEjb4HAa2FNNYVjTql88qFk4_6sZn3-G5rzRZ15s4i1jQ6ln4Yqq0F-IWpqq0Fz2aAxc6Cc9Oj5gMixm5hV_QbSGUOepwncCFeGb5yTZPRLg0AdAO8SWWLVD4uVc270y1jmNooaLBXyzr2QQ/w150-h200/IMG_1739.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKI6s90q-RJYTytmyL9f_DfeZq3eEFadEO1rEj0mbcRE-i8a4BqWypxYD5xh64xhzI7heJ5MUwLR6mykMOKnT7VKGpeyMlyl9AxOOMc2tW1eEToNZlXEKoarBOdAB3o2fw4zjcZ_ZW1Ii-7-Ljhfumla0MGCbxQO3J5szGaG9DO2STc6uXpFX3St_Gqg/s3088/IMG_1737.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3088" data-original-width="2320" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKI6s90q-RJYTytmyL9f_DfeZq3eEFadEO1rEj0mbcRE-i8a4BqWypxYD5xh64xhzI7heJ5MUwLR6mykMOKnT7VKGpeyMlyl9AxOOMc2tW1eEToNZlXEKoarBOdAB3o2fw4zjcZ_ZW1Ii-7-Ljhfumla0MGCbxQO3J5szGaG9DO2STc6uXpFX3St_Gqg/w150-h200/IMG_1737.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7DRF9yNmaCS4Yuwrw6T-pe8PSr7_y57yfq8eHh0tqh_RXm1O0PMBkD6eLGEkNtkAfmEjeT9wEoOlvh01UgpVfjgXNmMQWB1kvQZlmjMv2yYzLN6x8uksuB8b59InMJnNEU3uGILBLXhB3fvpxUWAblP2mT4Z59ifHrPzh0DFsaYJ81Mhhyosh3UR4aw/s4032/IMG_1738.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7DRF9yNmaCS4Yuwrw6T-pe8PSr7_y57yfq8eHh0tqh_RXm1O0PMBkD6eLGEkNtkAfmEjeT9wEoOlvh01UgpVfjgXNmMQWB1kvQZlmjMv2yYzLN6x8uksuB8b59InMJnNEU3uGILBLXhB3fvpxUWAblP2mT4Z59ifHrPzh0DFsaYJ81Mhhyosh3UR4aw/w150-h200/IMG_1738.HEIC" width="150" /></a></div><br /><div><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">Then I realised I'd only gone and twisted my bloody back. That's what happens when you are on high micropub stools and have all your heavy baggage with you. I blame my new elaborate peach and mango shower gel, heaviest bottle ever! Oh well, I could rest for a couple of hours because one of my Isle of Sheppey ticks didn't open til 7pm. Even on a Saturday #HobbyPubs</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">I'd love to tell you about that soon, but tomorrow is 'month end review' and then I've got to think about YET another BRAPA holiday ... amidst more train strikes, and then I'm on jury service for two weeks. Ugh! So no idea when I'll next get to write about my Kentish adventure but it might well be dark and snowing. </span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">See you tomorrow for month end review,</span></span></div><div><br /></div><div><span style="vertical-align: inherit;"><span style="vertical-align: inherit;">Si</span></span></div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><br /><div><br /><p><br /></p></div></div></div></div></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6677885556404476308.post-16210732865748548602022-09-26T21:13:00.001+01:002022-09-26T21:13:38.176+01:00BRAPA in .... CARDIFF BAY CITY STROLLERS<p>I suppose that looking back now, one of the most pleasing aspects about these Glamorgan Good Beer Guide pubs is that even when they are cited as having 'an emphasis on dining' or 'serving food to a high standard', what this actually means, in the Cardiff area at least, is that you can get a pork pie on a plate. And possibly a drop of English (Welsh?) mustard if there's enough left in the jar. And a knife balanced on your plate precariously, which will inevitably fall floorwards with a massive clang as you make your way to a seat at the opposite end of the room.</p><p>Penarth itself, overlooking Cardiff from the south, was surprisingly kitsch. Flowery little artisan bakeries, hand crafted nautical trinkets, prints of lifeless kittens and scented candles dominate every corner. Posh Cardiff if you will. And even this hadn't stopped the scaffold-clad <b>Golden Lion</b>, from being a true pub in the strictest sense of the word, as I told you last time out before I drank 40 pints of Kentish ale last week.</p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVOBR6ZzWUj3rfbwb3CpVnhbjOmNI9IFF03D-Jz6qpPfhMcZP7tO4QUjpVR5gU7Jg-nN2IbLtY3Fg-fxUcSTuJzAHmC3FgVwszk6fRTICVbt80x7NHK65yv5OQpRDwhxZsjg9sqk3Tvy_N-erpurwxys1tHP3XBotaiAIqv0MszrnCpiUX8VE7UhNLQ/s4032/IMG_1653.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLVOBR6ZzWUj3rfbwb3CpVnhbjOmNI9IFF03D-Jz6qpPfhMcZP7tO4QUjpVR5gU7Jg-nN2IbLtY3Fg-fxUcSTuJzAHmC3FgVwszk6fRTICVbt80x7NHK65yv5OQpRDwhxZsjg9sqk3Tvy_N-erpurwxys1tHP3XBotaiAIqv0MszrnCpiUX8VE7UhNLQ/s320/IMG_1653.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3RrTvZnl_tdC-s5ygdXWG4hQxFN8XL8Ypf4d3FH1PwqM4_W1607Awi0hLfbTDFnVYNYnDaoL9Fu3l9J_O1eG5EBjzBjdsXLtzjmak-Jcc3NrRIcZezLFz36tVSJqOWnddrlnnGZynq51Rkj2x-gBo0LwSmkao0zcMGgQyWknyoC-goA0fHyfPyYmWSw/s2429/IMG_1645.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1847" data-original-width="2429" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3RrTvZnl_tdC-s5ygdXWG4hQxFN8XL8Ypf4d3FH1PwqM4_W1607Awi0hLfbTDFnVYNYnDaoL9Fu3l9J_O1eG5EBjzBjdsXLtzjmak-Jcc3NrRIcZezLFz36tVSJqOWnddrlnnGZynq51Rkj2x-gBo0LwSmkao0zcMGgQyWknyoC-goA0fHyfPyYmWSw/s320/IMG_1645.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><b>The Pilot (2374 / 3938) </b>was perhaps the weakest of Penarth's GBG thrillogy, but not useless by any means. Most of the customers are soaking up the remnants of an already forgotten hot summer out the front. A motivated beard serves us. There's a smattering of wheezy obese Welsh folk with bums hanging out of loose cargo pants to remind you that when it comes to South Wales, folk embrace their boozers, and if you make eye contact, you'll get at least an 'arite boyo' and a kind nod in return. Problem with the Pilot is, unlike its Mumbles namesake, it is airy, the decor is pale and insipid, sage with no stuffing if you like. But as Dad follows the test match online commentary ball by ball, punctuated by chesty coughs from the next table, a 'Well Drawn' pint of Providence Pale going down the hatch nicely, you would have to surmise that all was well with the world here in this little corner of Penarth. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFaWfkVS6DLILImgYGBB7WU6w7gCjzRC92rhSY9-NWzkV1cTnsIKd3KravMb9EGxUC0X2htg7jxzTFc-Q2zFvjIylA3j5pj1HTxk1aSa0fE1TeEi1B0K97AUpHo4VFbKmtm-iRoPH2Cq3gMFaGHG81RhZtkWiHGr8BI9ZiIqIniNvks2tu6UAa1SVaA/s4032/IMG_1646.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFaWfkVS6DLILImgYGBB7WU6w7gCjzRC92rhSY9-NWzkV1cTnsIKd3KravMb9EGxUC0X2htg7jxzTFc-Q2zFvjIylA3j5pj1HTxk1aSa0fE1TeEi1B0K97AUpHo4VFbKmtm-iRoPH2Cq3gMFaGHG81RhZtkWiHGr8BI9ZiIqIniNvks2tu6UAa1SVaA/s320/IMG_1646.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQylwLezeU8SEdszcQL-YgERQjysMNWTPA5Uw-wki-ar055Brz0r7E5Pz5gdUwSolO1XuQGhU5khx5kMKO3vowN1TamL_jqGoSWHSAkqp5Da3X1zn_5dbwdU9hftS0j2bRZyV9CWT3EMwbMxV5GgEWKgbnsunp1lnJphGn0S3S6SxRBG_vXVM7uTFhw/s4032/IMG_1647.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilQylwLezeU8SEdszcQL-YgERQjysMNWTPA5Uw-wki-ar055Brz0r7E5Pz5gdUwSolO1XuQGhU5khx5kMKO3vowN1TamL_jqGoSWHSAkqp5Da3X1zn_5dbwdU9hftS0j2bRZyV9CWT3EMwbMxV5GgEWKgbnsunp1lnJphGn0S3S6SxRBG_vXVM7uTFhw/s320/IMG_1647.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqveiV4KqL_l5ajd-NTyyfxj8rNDxMObupduO239f1PuvaxSSLg6sdJVueMh9OX1w773KN0q8MKpFf3qhM4eTyYzZRvuIVYaqS1X28rlJnkU3eCrt7tSKJEUZxi5AoehU2ymLUm07jdAupHkXWCfcOA5QSfaAX8TQ7KXdR6kTH_wzVTiXV-G3POwysg/s4032/IMG_1648.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIqveiV4KqL_l5ajd-NTyyfxj8rNDxMObupduO239f1PuvaxSSLg6sdJVueMh9OX1w773KN0q8MKpFf3qhM4eTyYzZRvuIVYaqS1X28rlJnkU3eCrt7tSKJEUZxi5AoehU2ymLUm07jdAupHkXWCfcOA5QSfaAX8TQ7KXdR6kTH_wzVTiXV-G3POwysg/s320/IMG_1648.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Dad spies a delicious view across to Cardiff as the street adjacent to the pub slopes down towards the Bay, and suggests we take a closer look. I interrogate my bladder to ensure it isn't going to spring any sudden urges on me, and it promises to behave, so we go and take a look.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYnHvyDgPLu40NpX8JuHjoGnqlIQIKMrdFC_CtHdn6AWZ6mWMAsZxTieV-PuP5nCIfq6CudeyJ1COI8L2xDcCde0i0EvK0rGavknlKRaKZrYgIyNoUtqkikDhJPF4JnIlSb2IPyNNLQqanw-g8bhC95pauS2kcozHIW5tDFBpVQ7ocn1M-hptypc7HBQ/s4030/IMG_1651.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2035" data-original-width="4030" height="325" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYnHvyDgPLu40NpX8JuHjoGnqlIQIKMrdFC_CtHdn6AWZ6mWMAsZxTieV-PuP5nCIfq6CudeyJ1COI8L2xDcCde0i0EvK0rGavknlKRaKZrYgIyNoUtqkikDhJPF4JnIlSb2IPyNNLQqanw-g8bhC95pauS2kcozHIW5tDFBpVQ7ocn1M-hptypc7HBQ/w640-h325/IMG_1651.HEIC" width="640" /></a></div><br /><div>Cardiff, at a safe distance, is really quite beautiful. I'm put in mind of a watery Knaresborough. Dad wants to know where the Senedd is lurking. Out to the right I think. Less obvious than he'd expected. </div><div><br /></div><div>Daddy B. obviously still had Senedd's on the brain, because as I wait patiently for him to take the standard outdoor photo at pub #3, we eventually realise he's got it on video mode by mistake. Result? Five seconds of me jiggling up and down. Hot BRAPA action. Luckily for you, Blogger doesn't like videos so the hasty follow up photo must suffice.</div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5BEqo4hCdDEqMaff90n1-lD5iASSPqzVIwCwjGo3mVEyzbgS4yMXcNJzgKdFBGTQZRMuCIBcjd2_gAi6lce1OF4Dt93RiHzT_LCWWPaDwrLNO045IK3LSqRB7qHgM6yS93O_HzE9v8u7WolH9alLn9XSLoFxZMmaz7b3df_zK_aHxnz4ubJ0njgKVw/s4032/IMG_1655.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb5BEqo4hCdDEqMaff90n1-lD5iASSPqzVIwCwjGo3mVEyzbgS4yMXcNJzgKdFBGTQZRMuCIBcjd2_gAi6lce1OF4Dt93RiHzT_LCWWPaDwrLNO045IK3LSqRB7qHgM6yS93O_HzE9v8u7WolH9alLn9XSLoFxZMmaz7b3df_zK_aHxnz4ubJ0njgKVw/s320/IMG_1655.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div>It all worked out perfectly anyway. I'd been wanting to pay tribute to Retired Martin's GBG completion with an honorary tweet to make him sound like our late Queen. No better to place to do that than a pub named <b>The Windsor (2375 / 3939) </b>- suddenly my jiggly dance just appeared to be part of the 'celebration'. Again, despite the GBG trying to convince me this was some dining emporium, 'basic sports bar' would be a more accurate assessment. Big effin' Welsh flag on the window, smaller surprising Newcastle Utd one above a door to offend my honorary Mackem sensibilities. TV sport, Chumbawumba, and an ascent to faraway loos which would make Wetherspoons blush. Once there, a delightful zesty lemon smell like those mini towels you get after a Chinese meal. The Brains Dark clip is bit of a wide 'un, encompassing all that surrounds it, or the Young's Original at least #EvilBrains but it is the unchallenging 3.5%er I need at this stage. Chumbawumba might be stuck on repeat, how many times can you get knocked down but get up again? A man with a bulbous nose puts a bet on, and that is that. Back to Cardiff for the second half.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4XogXlFFsbAmgZiYTBgz82d0iKFeWPICYbSEPOkfRxlloweJS2BKYL5TtGfbkwYZOSgqNUAvpBQxSiZidUixHRT_S3lOt680KF_I7O0CrTxxbmmM03CPeL5vvMZFTPwZcZBJ-RdfENYxTP3q8ycgq6o-M7IwILWuWezkKZyR4fMhjviobKuYGiDpQQw/s4032/IMG_1656.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4XogXlFFsbAmgZiYTBgz82d0iKFeWPICYbSEPOkfRxlloweJS2BKYL5TtGfbkwYZOSgqNUAvpBQxSiZidUixHRT_S3lOt680KF_I7O0CrTxxbmmM03CPeL5vvMZFTPwZcZBJ-RdfENYxTP3q8ycgq6o-M7IwILWuWezkKZyR4fMhjviobKuYGiDpQQw/s320/IMG_1656.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwPr8IY6rtuXleQ6O_oHOkjsoKmP4eioNGBbR-zULipXfqsWW7TVDUP_R02FHkEYXN8PRCcg882ePGCKUfsk6zPNqVaxrwBFCqKSCP94by8lhI1mXKeAkH5vb8UqAD9R0lOaGhGWNODB_9LuLKsCybC767MVvkgXhxUS13LjhItJSWQPiDKreNuF28w/s4032/IMG_1657.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXwPr8IY6rtuXleQ6O_oHOkjsoKmP4eioNGBbR-zULipXfqsWW7TVDUP_R02FHkEYXN8PRCcg882ePGCKUfsk6zPNqVaxrwBFCqKSCP94by8lhI1mXKeAkH5vb8UqAD9R0lOaGhGWNODB_9LuLKsCybC767MVvkgXhxUS13LjhItJSWQPiDKreNuF28w/s320/IMG_1657.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhOykofuTXJTQ97l_B5ZCQrF_aR0CtAYnwLlsjksClU7atcHM0NYijdQ_xBLhNjgePAQwOWc2mR5aA9hYpQ76C5XsJ_hr7Fy0l4HGtVSPCPjY0e7cApcMOPwhof3XzVOJbHp2HfTvxse5WLH9xS2r7dk8iLPcUiVy79ausWBpo_qgpqjXqr47F6ewJw/s4032/IMG_1658.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDhOykofuTXJTQ97l_B5ZCQrF_aR0CtAYnwLlsjksClU7atcHM0NYijdQ_xBLhNjgePAQwOWc2mR5aA9hYpQ76C5XsJ_hr7Fy0l4HGtVSPCPjY0e7cApcMOPwhof3XzVOJbHp2HfTvxse5WLH9xS2r7dk8iLPcUiVy79ausWBpo_qgpqjXqr47F6ewJw/s320/IMG_1658.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpek3RzSytlCdaSOMkOFU6lLI2OlI_0Aliqf-V0qzNjanmTjHKKdixJQ4k4XsJnW8v6mMWwy852Jt_bmdPratXAiLBZMe60U_AE4tfNkj8f5NFktPCjLlbk0oWXd1UjC5Q34qlXTMJP9ohaw5fKZAKVmFOhopYqqH8T3czXpuPXzRyV2Ct1r9LjJLag/s4032/IMG_1659.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbpek3RzSytlCdaSOMkOFU6lLI2OlI_0Aliqf-V0qzNjanmTjHKKdixJQ4k4XsJnW8v6mMWwy852Jt_bmdPratXAiLBZMe60U_AE4tfNkj8f5NFktPCjLlbk0oWXd1UjC5Q34qlXTMJP9ohaw5fKZAKVmFOhopYqqH8T3czXpuPXzRyV2Ct1r9LjJLag/s320/IMG_1659.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Dingle Road to Cardiff Queen Street follows, where we check in to our hotel for the night, separate rooms thankfully (don't want a repeat of THAT Bristol day when the clocks went back, do we?) A bit of food and drink, and I'm aware the colour of my drink, if you avoid the scratched Oasis label, sounds a bit like the Cardiff suburb we'll be headed for next. </div><div><br /></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghddekPoLVOSNrSf_ynHoPVwEvD0XNqJv8LpPnCTVwOMUGh1p7T9-5O4_zMNI7jD7qkZdoIbRQI1OHBK9zf9riutbAGBmaSlPTZu4Idjm2GLAXlRLgEC78NISQsD6PgzufgOVeLKhld9e3X-ZR1q_5uEPEN1Uz29TbqacE7To7917OpBiRiPzk99wKfQ/s4032/IMG_1660.HEIC" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghddekPoLVOSNrSf_ynHoPVwEvD0XNqJv8LpPnCTVwOMUGh1p7T9-5O4_zMNI7jD7qkZdoIbRQI1OHBK9zf9riutbAGBmaSlPTZu4Idjm2GLAXlRLgEC78NISQsD6PgzufgOVeLKhld9e3X-ZR1q_5uEPEN1Uz29TbqacE7To7917OpBiRiPzk99wKfQ/s320/IMG_1660.HEIC" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can you tell what it is yet? </td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div>So with the football cancelled and much of the day left for ticking, it made sense to do those 'harder to reach, around the rim' Cardiff ticks that you might decline on a match day for fear of it cutting down your pre-match beer intake.</div><div><br /></div><div>A local train ride ensues, then a ten minute walk down an inconsequential main road, Daddy BRAPA is moaning about the stride out (good job he wasn't with me for Morwenstow) "I don't walk as quickly as I used to" but soon his pain was over, we were here .... or at least the pain was sort of over, as we'd spied that dreaded Ember Inn sign.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrhK-fTHVjnQU4GpJNt24LLmnvWXS68zfiY_t1Mpsh38Bl88c5VmAF1irR1264zFnWqA_qY3MlHS21iDR3arakGFVakwLU8G1aoTR5iRGMILJ9_g6R8kLt5HuSP_xbA515w5F8STFBvT-BXB2BWFVWwa_dl4zVMLFxTs8VytDCvN_EusUUliBQRp91Q/s4032/IMG_1661.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrhK-fTHVjnQU4GpJNt24LLmnvWXS68zfiY_t1Mpsh38Bl88c5VmAF1irR1264zFnWqA_qY3MlHS21iDR3arakGFVakwLU8G1aoTR5iRGMILJ9_g6R8kLt5HuSP_xbA515w5F8STFBvT-BXB2BWFVWwa_dl4zVMLFxTs8VytDCvN_EusUUliBQRp91Q/s320/IMG_1661.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div>Hello Ember my old friend, it has been a while. February back in boring Park Gate, Hampshire, if I remember rightly. <b>Deri, Rhiwbina (2376 / 3940) </b>- did you get the Ribena reference? Dad leads the way to the bar, where we learn that Molly is the pub 'ledgend' (sic) of the month - unless of course she lights up the place, in which case she might be an LED(light emitting diode)gend of the month, which is absolutely fine. And if you thought mine and RetiredMartin's Ember hatred was strong, get this ..... Daddy BRAPA says "I want to pay by cash for this round". "How come?" I ask. "I don't want Ember on my bank statement!" he replies. Brilliant. #ProudSonMoment. As usual, the bright lights, faux-posh diners, cacophony of cutlery and preponderance of pillars are suffocating, so Dad wisely marches our Proper Job / Estrella outside - PJ is the best of a very national range of beers, and weirdly, this is perhaps the only Ember Inn I've been in ANYWHERE not to sell Rev. James. That's as quirky as it got. The garden / outdoor area is typically plentiful, and makes the experience bearable verging on semi-enjoyable as the following photo proves.<br /><div><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrAmlHfVF-kcEupTKyJe3Pz7G8dExvECkA7qwyuY0LqqW0U1ohIopvaVOV3-xxVFIDQKuqPVCvbvQMjYh3wdlTrJOmn3wXvfEYBSHWY2230Nyh6ipuy3AF9KaoBrE3qVd5gXbSAVTDKkGxuG6-Zdh-Xr6MJZKDR9i9QJWvr0UK-f3tSAbJNDkhpWSdQ/s4032/IMG_1668.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxrAmlHfVF-kcEupTKyJe3Pz7G8dExvECkA7qwyuY0LqqW0U1ohIopvaVOV3-xxVFIDQKuqPVCvbvQMjYh3wdlTrJOmn3wXvfEYBSHWY2230Nyh6ipuy3AF9KaoBrE3qVd5gXbSAVTDKkGxuG6-Zdh-Xr6MJZKDR9i9QJWvr0UK-f3tSAbJNDkhpWSdQ/s320/IMG_1668.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJhICISyecZl-_8hfZJUA2hy0F8s5Y_r-KYsyX3w5uXhraZEdIYO63AA_S0iT6Ud6FVvwWMyOBwetz8PU9AArRbRdYodUoIedcs67EP-8fQO9sAeEKv_vz4aV7eObYriszsFJjkzWuKSpTCQ4PjQsNtdHbR_wWTTG30eHYqtzGs4K_NdWZCdINJsNBXg/s4032/IMG_1666.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJhICISyecZl-_8hfZJUA2hy0F8s5Y_r-KYsyX3w5uXhraZEdIYO63AA_S0iT6Ud6FVvwWMyOBwetz8PU9AArRbRdYodUoIedcs67EP-8fQO9sAeEKv_vz4aV7eObYriszsFJjkzWuKSpTCQ4PjQsNtdHbR_wWTTG30eHYqtzGs4K_NdWZCdINJsNBXg/s320/IMG_1666.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiY1tjXZb2dQI93UMbIBNyrEr4scPG8lh8c_AkWZYV8lJZ4l8ZansLk82Mte_ulm5IcoSSKB983Lz-PDKLK7IDUnlKyawMqQIRrRUUJ-i5W_bSF-9Pg6RVrnt4gysWjqSbZGWMSehomLPjpDifBIdUEYMwpMpydqIaaN8SPc8ODSJTTPN4A7uUgEte1Q/s4032/IMG_1664.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiY1tjXZb2dQI93UMbIBNyrEr4scPG8lh8c_AkWZYV8lJZ4l8ZansLk82Mte_ulm5IcoSSKB983Lz-PDKLK7IDUnlKyawMqQIRrRUUJ-i5W_bSF-9Pg6RVrnt4gysWjqSbZGWMSehomLPjpDifBIdUEYMwpMpydqIaaN8SPc8ODSJTTPN4A7uUgEte1Q/s320/IMG_1664.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lYXQeHbSMrplRpgsWbq6LWIejSy5gqx3gHOObQwRVX7UFPbrqZZh3QQILHSphuD3Q8eB1QIBLVcfXMwtiLTgIED7o3CAJcfp608c6IoMudmTJapZtwkePmO7iXbJYx531ZJ8aeMEhPfLPU1qMIgxDWDGeoOfyKCKOrb3ZuKa39OmEZuRpJw9G1_L0Q/s4032/IMG_1662.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_lYXQeHbSMrplRpgsWbq6LWIejSy5gqx3gHOObQwRVX7UFPbrqZZh3QQILHSphuD3Q8eB1QIBLVcfXMwtiLTgIED7o3CAJcfp608c6IoMudmTJapZtwkePmO7iXbJYx531ZJ8aeMEhPfLPU1qMIgxDWDGeoOfyKCKOrb3ZuKa39OmEZuRpJw9G1_L0Q/s320/IMG_1662.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br />A bus leads us back towards the centre, I press the button just before and we find ourselves wowed once more by a side to Cardiff I've never seen before, despite at least five visits. This lead us down wide leafy streets, containing some majestic government and university buildings. Not unlike the time I finally realised Ipswich was decent. </div><div><br /></div><div>Before long, we are in a suburb called Cathays which houses two GBG ticks, and has a distinctly more tranquil feel than the city centre, despite being a mere stone's throw away. </div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6SdtX61zsfZTvUfO69TyqPoQ3uhBVnPgrrOJNlgSf7WGRd4y4z5GTYcelCWXRwP9Vs3w_eNpsbvOxtZzmEbymQYOOK1PkVtRE01vbfvZ9-P9lVPUu26zoFkNhxkmSoM03fiUimzu7FQa6_J_qx6jzUKbitrh5iJCVMRKOs3SXFI4a-7rLgIIcb4KAw/s4032/IMG_1670.HEIC" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF6SdtX61zsfZTvUfO69TyqPoQ3uhBVnPgrrOJNlgSf7WGRd4y4z5GTYcelCWXRwP9Vs3w_eNpsbvOxtZzmEbymQYOOK1PkVtRE01vbfvZ9-P9lVPUu26zoFkNhxkmSoM03fiUimzu7FQa6_J_qx6jzUKbitrh5iJCVMRKOs3SXFI4a-7rLgIIcb4KAw/s320/IMG_1670.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div>The one disappointment of today's epic BRAPA crawl was <b>Cathays Beer House (2377 / 3941) </b>because when a pub which puts beer at the forefront fails to deliver on the beer front, well there's not much margin for error. Through the gate and into a stuffy atmosphere ('needed an open door at the back to get the air circulating' was Dad's feeling), and some quite harsh lighting is hard to adjust to. The genial barman must see my panic stricken eyes scanning the bar for cask. He sets his expression to morose and comments "unfortunately, three of the four casks have gone already today, just the one left", indicating a lonely looking Maverick Californium Golden on a blackboard over his right shoulder. It is soon evident this ale is well past its best too, warm & clarty but you can tell it'd be a good ale in ideal conditions. As I return from the loo, Dad is trying to 'slyly' move us to an outdoor table to befuddle me, but I'm back quicker than expected and catch him moving my stuff! It is a quirky type of place, I love a tropical fish tank in a pub. 'Tractor-style' seats at the bar, says the GBG. I must've missed them but cannot imagine they're that comfy! A bloke born in 1947 isn't gonna fully appreciate Harry Potter themed loos, a 1979 bloke struggles enough. I like some of the humour dotted about, but the crowd are certainly a bit more, shall we say, 'London aloof' - happiest amongst faces and dogs that they recognise. I suppose if you spin the experience positively, great to see the cask ales so popular. <br /> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidikfApJDI62s_pn6-332kD7RWqmO7APL5NtZ3cuSta99_tM64_ZZqtdTXqa7yynhCeaWI81HmFAYaoq5YKTUTjdYbM3qo__y4UbFRbhabZ73cd6IhqGvoISZqsKFO_zLuZ10ZFQVwy9cO5zOAzz5pmufEgbl141WBq_s7qZm0RDZRyo2EWHBzYnd1Gg/s4032/IMG_1671.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidikfApJDI62s_pn6-332kD7RWqmO7APL5NtZ3cuSta99_tM64_ZZqtdTXqa7yynhCeaWI81HmFAYaoq5YKTUTjdYbM3qo__y4UbFRbhabZ73cd6IhqGvoISZqsKFO_zLuZ10ZFQVwy9cO5zOAzz5pmufEgbl141WBq_s7qZm0RDZRyo2EWHBzYnd1Gg/s320/IMG_1671.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir43rUB0zr0Ob5DNI1MTGxjXkZW5grldHtNgeXmOxSZ-sHCoLsd8fBAcqvDd5SYZwgvkLgvTIJYNxLb9XlT5mu40jZgsClaxvvLeLYoJjvdsyCNUCOPxMvDXptYbglZdQQWDvr8lQ4Be14pQUGBinee2ntE0zTyORdwS5cFW5Fvbn7Y8c2LySrZ_qM5Q/s3067/IMG_1672.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3067" data-original-width="3023" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir43rUB0zr0Ob5DNI1MTGxjXkZW5grldHtNgeXmOxSZ-sHCoLsd8fBAcqvDd5SYZwgvkLgvTIJYNxLb9XlT5mu40jZgsClaxvvLeLYoJjvdsyCNUCOPxMvDXptYbglZdQQWDvr8lQ4Be14pQUGBinee2ntE0zTyORdwS5cFW5Fvbn7Y8c2LySrZ_qM5Q/s320/IMG_1672.HEIC" width="315" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1eN2NHw5NStwUXTLD21Qdo4U426hj5nvoZ6m7E9r8jM_9J5QD4ppg_BLW2pGCXCbZg5q3tjNg-kQn77dR-ed1mH5yMg47W19WTZRUiF4dz7125CEscwubT78C9MptS6gTvoEdvRx-CLS0jQ4VkCNP6OqpMnCWjPWVxkFWLxsJrLM4JRwyU1wydc4IJg/s4032/IMG_1673.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1eN2NHw5NStwUXTLD21Qdo4U426hj5nvoZ6m7E9r8jM_9J5QD4ppg_BLW2pGCXCbZg5q3tjNg-kQn77dR-ed1mH5yMg47W19WTZRUiF4dz7125CEscwubT78C9MptS6gTvoEdvRx-CLS0jQ4VkCNP6OqpMnCWjPWVxkFWLxsJrLM4JRwyU1wydc4IJg/s320/IMG_1673.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbdbI2R6BcmP_TIcwhBBqbHOGsDPXZMFL1rijeh3YINrEhKTk-5WSeJt3485w8ozrxf4UDnwSe_u7ir_wndbrbmlRb2vDaslXYSaTXGuLs3JreCmwI4EXuLaMiWr9nesMSJ2rCfL471jMTE7vEJ5dmDvaMDF-o0-JxsyvENNechY1Txrgq-LKtRvZtkg/s2336/IMG_1674.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2092" data-original-width="2336" height="287" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbdbI2R6BcmP_TIcwhBBqbHOGsDPXZMFL1rijeh3YINrEhKTk-5WSeJt3485w8ozrxf4UDnwSe_u7ir_wndbrbmlRb2vDaslXYSaTXGuLs3JreCmwI4EXuLaMiWr9nesMSJ2rCfL471jMTE7vEJ5dmDvaMDF-o0-JxsyvENNechY1Txrgq-LKtRvZtkg/s320/IMG_1674.HEIC" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHFCUec08vdGMq7iHvaaHowvKtkzi-_PKxC_SfSH39Z_7bN-bWpdNPTNn9TUOeRNOIVe6RmzPYjlR24PHsNGDACUIppLKB2fA_6A3SQ9iV-2A7hQTY6C-RbNQMT37uG8MGeUNQD0iowcyq070O5ODkm1zG--iIAALJe58ydBXVQpYMNR_KVzw_-SRJg/s3314/IMG_1675.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3314" data-original-width="2659" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVHFCUec08vdGMq7iHvaaHowvKtkzi-_PKxC_SfSH39Z_7bN-bWpdNPTNn9TUOeRNOIVe6RmzPYjlR24PHsNGDACUIppLKB2fA_6A3SQ9iV-2A7hQTY6C-RbNQMT37uG8MGeUNQD0iowcyq070O5ODkm1zG--iIAALJe58ydBXVQpYMNR_KVzw_-SRJg/s320/IMG_1675.HEIC" width="257" /></a></div><br /><div>But ultimately, our experience of CF24 would be a winning one as we approach Dad's final pub of the night (but not mine, #HardcoreTicker). Yes, we were cheered up and merry to the point of being Cathay's Clowns - not enough Everly Brothers humour out there is there? </div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiywjWeV4Z8QUVEknJuKziBbksaSt1HeMYXsbI-jpr7FLBUdSLp9MfIeHs2eqhBgepgNfdLAAQb8Ve8DWHoO5WanG9k38DLV3kBWoLvPdJ292oeHY4JqKiuGVNE7lVMhRsJfmQKkqdoN8_CXtWKnFF8agpW83r6ukfYWApnGIXpYyt_WGSDxc_3RRUGAg/s3666/IMG_1676.HEIC" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3666" data-original-width="3021" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiywjWeV4Z8QUVEknJuKziBbksaSt1HeMYXsbI-jpr7FLBUdSLp9MfIeHs2eqhBgepgNfdLAAQb8Ve8DWHoO5WanG9k38DLV3kBWoLvPdJ292oeHY4JqKiuGVNE7lVMhRsJfmQKkqdoN8_CXtWKnFF8agpW83r6ukfYWApnGIXpYyt_WGSDxc_3RRUGAg/s320/IMG_1676.HEIC" width="264" /></a></div>A giant floor-dog arises from it's slumber with a huge howling 'wooooooooof' as we mosey on past it and up to the bar at <b>Andrew Buchan, Cathays (2378 / 3942). </b> "Sorry, sorry sorry" I say to dog and assembled old bloke punters, who are quick to reassure me that it happens to everyone, and not just because we are strange interlopers! That set the scene for my favourite pub of the day, and the barmaid is a jewel in the crown too, listening sympathetically to our recent beer woes. Rhymney are the brewery here, and I love how their ales are basically named like Export, Export Light, Dark, Bitter. I go Export Light, Dad goes Export and is quick to tell me that makes him superior. Ha! Love this place, it is more Working Man's Club than pub in many ways, not just the clientele or the gentle friendly feels, but the low roofed, thin basic bench clad surrounds. Only the frontage is a giveaway that it is a converted shop - we sat far back in the depths, where a funny man with a carrier bag kept disappearing in and out of dark private doors. A cracker. <div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFdaiBp2aqiGv26oANAxcLNrokGfNWXUWGk_5xcaFAeC7w6Yl1xSwsCRM64yM3s7yEkwfOv_O45ss59C05KtKHVMkC2txDh0aJA-eA6nsNQsXp2QsGItCsOevjJtLmJ6588nZnUiLhuN3LWoIwJrggRYJ46BurNi1Bs-15yyVVJ3fZdiuKiybHqNBhA/s3203/IMG_1677.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3203" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJFdaiBp2aqiGv26oANAxcLNrokGfNWXUWGk_5xcaFAeC7w6Yl1xSwsCRM64yM3s7yEkwfOv_O45ss59C05KtKHVMkC2txDh0aJA-eA6nsNQsXp2QsGItCsOevjJtLmJ6588nZnUiLhuN3LWoIwJrggRYJ46BurNi1Bs-15yyVVJ3fZdiuKiybHqNBhA/s320/IMG_1677.HEIC" width="302" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dGXxjiZ8OFhVFxB5FprQR3qEquqCZxYCGRnzSNJtNED4b5QsR897gpI2hvSjqXqbzAQHXsuf2wNd2z2l0wruhixValHZcce_a4GKXka3kUhIQN0qR-ZW6p3FR1a40gRrLN_ltTBx1vftpwoHxVVPVGy13yXBmG_tNM9CJB66JQ1Mq5H5j3zmkKATng/s4032/IMG_1678.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3dGXxjiZ8OFhVFxB5FprQR3qEquqCZxYCGRnzSNJtNED4b5QsR897gpI2hvSjqXqbzAQHXsuf2wNd2z2l0wruhixValHZcce_a4GKXka3kUhIQN0qR-ZW6p3FR1a40gRrLN_ltTBx1vftpwoHxVVPVGy13yXBmG_tNM9CJB66JQ1Mq5H5j3zmkKATng/s320/IMG_1678.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZ7ha-zn_Psfu2GCL6FSUuW6yCn0eON4hf-ei8R7PXoT_U10OAfC8-COzqBLgbEb3M_pvJoFx_eaSXXhQlvnPQNSGYcLIYwbSHqcXzvZBPspS-PkNzDH36MzBMaLjKnbyS8huEzWywTNi_OQHWA00Uj4RHeQn2jjeVt5_iZmivCAOTWKW7erBFgezSA/s4032/IMG_1680.HEIC" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiZ7ha-zn_Psfu2GCL6FSUuW6yCn0eON4hf-ei8R7PXoT_U10OAfC8-COzqBLgbEb3M_pvJoFx_eaSXXhQlvnPQNSGYcLIYwbSHqcXzvZBPspS-PkNzDH36MzBMaLjKnbyS8huEzWywTNi_OQHWA00Uj4RHeQn2jjeVt5_iZmivCAOTWKW7erBFgezSA/s320/IMG_1680.HEIC" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div>Join me tomorrow or Wednesday depending on whether my friends want to go out for a York drink, where I'll tell you about my final two Cardiff ticks, plus a little bit of North Kent to whet your appetites for the future.</div><div><br /></div><div>Good night and gawd bless, Si <br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><p><br /></p></div></div></div>Si 'BRAPA' Everitthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17291680772889990384noreply@blogger.com2