Just back from West Brom v City last night, heartened by the amount of real ale drunk by Mancunians. Five points for identifying the pub;
The journey back was the worst of the year so far, with stranded vehicles on the M6, lane closures on the M42, diversions up the M69, and closures of the A14. Pub Curmudgeon would have loved it.
So my brain will only cope with a short post. I’m still on last Tuesday, if you’re trying to keep up, like I am.
It says a lot about the hotel options that I’m currently using Newport as my regular base for trips to Bristol. Perhaps I really am addicted to that scary Welsh underpass. It’s not as if Temple Meads is a joyful experience, though walks in every direction from the station are a joy.
First up the hill from Temple Meads to the Oxford, a traditional 4pm opener on the edge of what I assume is Bedminster. The angry residents of Totterdown can sue.
I can tell it’s Bedminster because of the glitz of the Thali Café. And the quality of the gnomes in an otherwise scruffy street.
The Oxford certainly meets the residents’ strict street art criteria.
It looks your archetypal Bristol suburban pub, and the interior is just as compliant.
Older readers (all of you) will no doubt be thinking “Hipsters“, “Tut’n’Shive” and “Give me a Sam Smiths anyday“, but it worked for me. But then I was seduced by the Man City memorabilia, a rare hearing of “Zazu” by Rosie Vela, and one of the friendliest welcomes in a pub this month as I was confused by a bank of, er,4 pumps.
A sensible range of ales, including the local breweries and one you’ll have heard of. I went for the one with “Soma” in it, of course, and it was decent enough (NBSS 3).
I often comment on good-looking pubs with good beer not having a good mix of custom. The Oxford really did appeal to all walks of life.
Here’s my view from a high table, reading Boak & Bailey’s “20th Century Pub” that I was on the way to get signed. I’ve blurred the pages so you can’t read it for free.