While in Brighton I was lured into a pub I’d been in before, which is quite a testament to the attraction of a boozer at dusk. The Mitre at the top of North Laine isn’t by any means the only traditional-looking pub in the City, which seems to value pub heritage better than some.
The Mitre just looked perfect for a 4pm pint. Through the window I could see what we now call mature drinkers, plenty of bench seating and tables for solo drinkers, TV snooker on mute, and no food.
Inside it was better than I remembered, possibly reflecting a quieter clientele than later in the evening. From the usual Harveys range I enjoyed a Best as good as I’ve tasted since the Gunmakers (NBSS 3.5). There’s some gorgeous pubs in the Sussex Downs but few with Harveys as rich and full-bodied as I tasted here.
I read 30 pages of “Free Country”, but my attention constantly wandered to nearby discussions about racing, TV and white goods. I even enjoyed the company of a pork-scratching fixated canine. So good was the atmosphere, I almost stayed for an Old.
I was going to catch the train to Lewes to visit a free house, but I need to make a night of it and revisit the Harveys pubs there, and there’s a great Chinese takeaway near the Lewes Arms.