More cultural references, this time a celebration of the Pistols gig in 1977 which led to the banning of all young people under the age of 30 from Cromer*. Forever.
Sid has aged well, less so Glen.
I never thought I’d get two posts out of Cromer, but that’s 2017 for you.
The only pub I remembered was the Red Lion, in fact it’s possible we stayed there. Gone from the good book in favour of the Welly, but I thought I’d better test it out as Pints & Pubs had said it was still decent.
But first a 55p sausage roll (live as you dream, folks) from the Co-op (probably second-hand), and a stroll along the front which was experiencing Gale Derek.
I then popped into a record fair next door, where only an extravagant price tag put me off this purchase from these post-punk popsters.
Some more attractive old shops for OAPs too. Lizzie sells giant Brussel sprouts.
Back at the front, the highlight was watching a Volvo attempt a 16 point turn on the tiny quayside. I assume they put on these displays for the tourists.
More impressive hotels, including this French themed one which sneaks onto WhatPub by selling bottled beers. Form a queue.
The Red Lion looks plain enough from the front.
Inside it’s “pleasantly smart” rather than “pretentiously smart” (see: Burnham Thorpe).
The lounge is a bit chintzy and Christmassy,
but the public bar was as lively as you dare hope for in Cromer. It looked like all the town drinkers were here, or taking turns to puff away on the quayside. Banter about “Old Barry” and his scaffolding (not a euphemism) and gold-digging wives.
It was a lovely place to drink, even before they put the Shakin’ Stevens on.
Four blokes at the bar made way for me. From a large range, I recognised the Lacons Affinity. It was cool and tasty, NBSS 3.5 at least.
“Is that enough beers for ya ?” they mocked.
They were all on Stella and Bud. What is it about Norfolk and Budweiser?
“I prefer a pub with one beer” I said, nervously.
They burst into laughter simultaneously.
“It’s the Albion you’ll be wanting then !!”
I sensed the Albion was Norfolk’s version of the Slaughtered Lamb, but I wasn’t going to find out. This time.
*So Simon may have to wait a year or two before his visit.