A nice little pre-emptive tick at The Hippo and some praise for The Hut.
Duncan had mentioned the Hippo as worth a look, so with 15 minutes between acts I popped into the basement for a half.
You could be in somewhere proper crafty like Falmouth.
That’s a lovely beer range, and the Hippo is a really pleasant place to get completely slaughtered on quality craft for very few quid (joking). It’s a good job Mrs RM was safe back in Waterbeach or that Windswept Russian Imperial might have taken a beating.
The Gun Extra Pale was good (NBSS 3), though quite how I missed the Cloudwater is still beyond me.
Bizarrely, “Love Will Tear Us Apart” was playing for a second time that night. When I got home my 15 year old son was playing Unknown Pleasures. Move on, folks.
A really cheery crowd were drinking a range of beers, though the only snatch of conversation I caught, “This is really symbiotic” was a bit random.
Then back to King Tut’s as the dusk descended on St Vincent Lane.
Tut’s is a tiny little venue, almost small enough to qualify as a “toilet”, but with quality running through the diverse musical programmes, organisation and the sound set-up. Everything apart from the beer choice, in fact.
By 10.30 p.m. I was knackered from 12 miles and 12 pubs, so I wasn’t able to fully appreciate Marika Hackman’s startling moth-to-butterfly act. The transformation from acoustic folk/baroque to pop-punk thrash took me unawares, but good for her.
Never stand still.