Finally, a pub for Professor Pie-Tin to warm to.
We took the bus into the tiny capital of Valletta on Carnival day. In Waterbeach, Mrs RM makes Feast costumes on an animal theme each year. In Valletta, they dress as Dante’s Inferno.
And make papier mache models of Freddie Mercury.
Valetta itself is a tiny amalgam of Genoa and Ramsgate, which is great. All it lacks is the tacky backstreet bars and Gadd’s No.7. It has the narrow hilly streets off to a tee.
Being tourists, we met Leeds’ Official Beer Blogger at The Pub for a pint of
Tetley’s Magic Rock. The sign tells you all you need to know.
This is the place where Oliver Reed sadly died in 1999, after an inadvisable bender shamelessly commemorated on T-Shirts and key rings.
The drinking today was more modest, though Mrs RM put back cans of High Wire and Cannonball in rapid time. Are they craft ? I forget.
My pint of creamy Farsons Blue Label tasted a lot like 1995 Caffrey’s. They know their market here.
Richard was distracted by some oval ball nonsense. You could have been in Headingley.
The fun came outside, as the Carnival procession attempted to pass down an alley patently unsuited to vehicles pumping fumes through the door.
Inside the famed toilets were a bigger health hazard than those fumes.
When I got back from the loo Richard and Mrs RM were discussing hopping rates or summat.
Great pub, like a rougher version of the Nutshell. Bet you didn’t think that was possible.