More tales written two blocks from the war zone that is, apparently, uptown top ranking Hamburg. Though I think the screams are from beer tourists realising the choice is Becks or the one with the heart on it.
More tales praising Harrogate.
As with Scarborough, a night in a B & B in the town is a rite of passage for Englishmen.
Pleasing as it is to stay in a disaster of a Guest House (Burton – 1994, Worthing – 2017), I can’t fault Acorn Lodge, and can’t really fault them for my hangover the next morning.
I’m an unashamed fan of the many and varied Taps, and Harrogate again impressed with a much wider mix of folk than you’d expect from a modern beer place. The proper seating around the wall actually gives it a bit of a social club feel, though most groups are clearly “pre-loading” before heading off for a night out in Horsforth.
From the seat above I enjoyed a pint of the Atom IPA (NBSS 3.5) and then, even more unwisely, a half of something incredibly strong on Key Keg. Scott will know what it is, seen here skilfully decanted into a pint glass.
On a third visit, the Tap is firmly back in my good books; even a reliance on sales of Bernard can’t diminish its appeal as a pubby modern bar. Nearly as expensive as Copenhagen, mind.
This unnecessary imbibement preceded my new GBG tick, the unpromising sounding 10 Devonshire Place. Clearly, all pubs should have the words Head, Dog or London Pub on the pub sign, or they’re not real pubs.
A pleasant five minute stroll to the east, it’s next door to the GBG Swan, a pub pulling in similarly smart young professionals (not professional drinkers).
It was dark, and I squinted at the clips, searching in vain for John Smiths or Bass in a sea of unfamiliarity. At the bar, a lady stood turning the pump clips round. “They don’t even know which of their beers are which“, I surmised.
“Sorry to keep you. I was straightening the pumpclips.” I was ashamed.
Seeking a steer, I was recommended the North Riding Mini Citra. It was nectar (NBSS 4.5). Suddenly, I loved the pub, candles on tables, handled jugs and all. I’m very shallow.
Again, a good mix of drinkers, and proper seating, as well as stellar beer, had won me over. They said “Thanks for coming” when I left, too.
It is just a tiny bit likely I was taken with the loo labelling too.
For ladies, “Allo Darlin”.
All of a sudden, Harrogate has five pubs worth travelling from Boston Spa for.