Our campsite at Min-y-Don was the most expensive of our Wales trip, but with views across to Llyn, and two minutes walk to sand dunes of Formby class it was worth it.
What Harlech lacked was Wi-Fi, sun (possibly not its fault) and decent pubs, according to WhatPub anyway. But attracted by the Doom Bar glasses I unwisely popped into the pub outside the railway on my way back from Porthmadog.
The Queens Hotel looks dreadful, a sports bar straight from Potters Bar High Street (no offence, probably). Clearly a newish South African owner is a real ale fan though.
If I hadn’t been
drunk curious I wouldn’t have squeezed round to the front bar to see two local beers alongside Cornwall’s finest. Beers from Cader and Crwrw Llyn were both compelling and unpronounceable.
Thankfully, a helpful Lancastrian called Mark did the honours and I enjoyed the beer of the week so far. Over an hour fellow travellers compared notes on micropubs in Chorley and Worthing, his town of exile, and with each pint the beer got better (NBSS 4).
It was so good I ignored my own rule and stood at the bar.
Luckily my park had a big eagle outside so I was able to find my way back in the dark.
Mrs RM popped down to join me but didn’t think to look at the bar for me, so I had to take her back during the Charity Shield the next day. With a pub full of lager-drinking Man U fans, the real ale was good but not quite as fantastic. Drinking real ale is the best way to maintain quality, as fans of Sam Smiths pubs will know.