At the risk of alienating my German reader, I should say I’m no animal lover. Like smokers though, I quite like to see them in pubs.
Thanet’s pubs are among my favourites because they are closest to my own “Moon Under Water”, which is a bit more urban than Simon Everitt’s otherwise exemplary Green Owl. I like a pub that can attract a wide range of custom, is open most of the time, and lacks pretension in the beer range.
The Brown Jug is pretty perfect, even with a beer range starring Greene King’s Olde Trip, but unfortunately doesn’t open till 5, even for me. I do recommend a visit.
My new Ramsgate Guide pub is the Rose of England, a pub with the same values as the Jug but more generous hours. I must have felt a little wary about an external shot, but this picture captures the South-East London feel of the place, right down to the food van (ice cream rather than seafood though).
Having shown you the resident Yard of Ale dog earlier, I now bring you my pub cat of the week (not a regular feature). Not very chatty, so I’ll name her Sally for the purpose of this blog. Sally was daring me to take my pint of Gadds Stout (NBSS 3) back to the bar. It had a slight sourness that I got used to, and the alternative was Bombardier.
Rather more chatty than Sally was a visitor from the great pub town of Deal, who engaged me in a half hour of interesting discussion about the dodgy pubs of Lewisham and Deal. As you can probably tell, I don’t really understand the concept of “dodgy” and never watched The Sweeney.
I told him about my excellent experiences around Deptford last month, and got a barrage of drug and violence related anecdotes. Goodness know what he’d make of Leigh. A top geezer, and I shall watch my back in Deal in future.
Pub Curmudgeon wrote about being engaged in unsolicited conversation recently, and this was pretty close to a Fast Show mash-up, with me of course playing the role of Brilliant Kid. I’m sure it was all quite innocent, but I never trust a man drinking coke in a pub, especially in halves.
I can’t say I enjoy vaguely disquieting chats with strangers every day, but I’d rather go in a pub where that’s still a possibility.
Ramsgate has a good couple of dozen pubs like the Rose, as well its micros and an emerging craft scene. The Café Nero seems to have the chain coffee market entirely to itself though, something that will surely change quickly. There must be money around with views like this from my cheap B&B at the Royal Yacht Club :-