Lowestoft has been getting a bit of a hammering today. Richard Coldwell made some excellent points about opening hours at the famous Stanford Arms.
Then Electric Pics (possibly an anagram of “Maidenhead“) commented;
” ‘Do not stop in Lowestoft’ – Sound advice”.
Not the attitude we want on this blog, EP.
My parents went on holiday there recently, returning seemingly unscathed by the “Warner Family Entertainment”,
and several people in our village seem to enjoy travelling two hours to holiday villages in the nearby Norfolk Broads, the appeal of which I’ve never got. A bit like Stonehenge and Maidenhead, then.
But I’m happy to be wrong, and my annual trip to the great nothingness brings me to St Olaves,whose highlights are a windpump and suspension bridge.
It did look mildly diverting. For about 4 minutes.
And the Bell Inn certainly looks ancient, though I guess the Christmas lunch deals weren’t being advertised in 1520.
I liked this place, precisely because it was old-fashioned and unmodernised. Full of people who looked like my mum, performing grandparent duties at half-term by looking after crying babies. Most of the bants were about ongoing ailments.
Two ladies free of their duties were reviewing photos of Lucy’s trip on safari (possibly at Africa Alive ! in Kessingland).
At the bar an excellent manager was training staff in how to pour beer through at the start of the session. It was most heartening.
Another very exciting beer range on display here, which makes you think local CAMRA must be rewarding quality rather than range (hoorah for that !). You have to wonder where all those micros sell their beers.
Even better, I got a proper glass !. As seasoned drinkers may have guessed from the glorious head, this was an excellent drop of the Adnams (NBSS 3.5). My copious notes refer to a “dry tickle“, which could be a comment on the beer or an overheard ailment.
Once again, more ginger beer than ale seemed to me passing over the counter. But I was happy, sitting on my brown pouffe and catching up on Lucy.