Into tourist central now, and that pub across from the Camera (which is not as exciting as CAMRA).
The King’s Arms is wrapped in unflattering scaffolding, so here, as the ice age descends, is my photo from the balmy summer of 2015.
I’d forgotten what was special about it, until we stepped thru’ the door.
Another multi-roomed gem, perhaps less touristy and more studenty than the Turf.
I thought it was a gorgeous multi-room gem, the sort of thing you expect in the Black Country or Stockport. Packed with lads settling down for England’s oval ball disaster, which meant Mrs RM poached the pews. We looked enviously at the tourists scoffing scotch eggs through the glass.
I set off to the second bar to explore. It’s a symphony in brown, as I may have said once or twice before about pubs.
Another exciting Charles Wells beer range*. I followed the crowd (unless they were using Tribute glasses for all the beers).
Back in the bar, Mrs RM had (surprise, surprise) scared off the tourists and nabbed the best room, even clearing the table of Camden glasses.
And all I brought her back was a pint of Tribute she rated “disappointing” (read:not craft). I thought it was OK; I wouldn’t quibble if it got back in the Guide.
A great place for blokes to talk about Bombay Mix and train fares, and Mrs RM to like Facebook posts.
Amongst all this BBB, someone had picked a pint of Camden. As soon as I identify that hand I’m having them kicked off the Forum.
*Actually, less variety than in a small Bedfordshire town recently.
Funny that I’d been in the King’s Arms a couple of times in the dim and distant past and never realised it had the small cosy snugs in the back.
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Same here, knew it was cosy but looked older than I remember. Perhaps I just took first seat going on previous visits.
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I’m warming to Mrs RM.
She’s the sort of no nonsense wingman( okay,wingperson) you need when boozing in unfamiliar territory.
In through pub door,recce the lie of the land,establish base camp,issue orders for drink and vittles,repel all interlopers with ” that ” look – but still somehow be feminine and alluring at the same time when the Premier Inn beckons.
You’re a lucky man Martin.
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If only that were true, Prof. It was a Jurys rather than the cheaper Premier Inn. Given she’s now been waiting 7 hours at Stansted for a flight to her dreadful IT assignment that keeps me in beer money I’m cautioned against any criticism of hotel choice.
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There can never be a right amount of business travel – you either get none, or so much that you get sick of it.
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That’s spot on.
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Or it’s repeated visits to Godforsaken places nobody in their right mind would ever want to go. December in Great Yarmouth, shudder….
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I used to love my trips to the Paget in Gorleston in December, always fish and chips after.
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I came to the conclusion Yarmouth shut from October to April. Mind you that was almost 30 years ago.
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That’s what Norfolk is supposed to look like. The only lively bit is the tickers convention at the Fat Cat.
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Seven hours at Stansted ?
And you,a kept man, at home with your feet up and the prospect of a nice big empty marital bed to luxuriate in ?
Play this one carefully if you don’t mind me offering some advice.
I once made the mistake of ringing home from the outside jacuzzi of the Ritz-Carlton Hotel in Pasadena just as my next €15 dollar Disney-bought margarita arrived and explaining to Mrs Professor Pie-Tin how absolutely delighted I was with life.
She empathised but explained that as she was just changing the nappy of our youngest child and still had to mop up the puke from the first -born with a tummy upset would I mind shoving the margarita where even the Californian sun didn’t shine.
It’s a minefield Martin and one to be approached gingerly.
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At least she doesn’t have to tidy up after a 16 year old teenage boy. Speaking of whom, I’m off…
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“Back in the bar, Mrs RM had (surprise, surprise) scared off the tourists and nabbed the best room, even clearing the table of Camden glasses.”
She’s definitely a keeper. (thumbs up) 🙂
Cheers
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Martin,
From the order of us in the picture above it looks as if that hand was from Stockport, but it was Young’s Special he had in the Kings Arms so it was probably in the wrong glass.
Peter,
Yes, “there can never be a right amount of business travel” although I did well through the 1990s, the first train of the day for Euston about once a month in good time for two or three of the four Smithfield pubs from about 8.20am then across at Waterloo for coffee and a 10am meeting.
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I know Mudgie will write this up; I am curious if any other posts will be done?
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Mudgie has posted, more succinctly and incisively than I’m doing.
http://pubcurmudgeon.blogspot.co.uk/2018/02/following-in-footsteps-of-morse.html
Don’t expect anything else apart from my last two today, unless Tim does a round up.
If you can hack in to the Oxford city centre CCTV no doubt you could knock something up yourself !
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I see you’ve seen Mudgie’s post now. There’s a few comments from participants on the Beer & Pubs Forum as well.
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I’ll be honest this is one of my least favourite pubs in Oxford (and I’ve been to a lot of them), charming and handy location but inevitably overrun with students anyone else who thinks its ok to charge £5+ a pint for something lacklustre.
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I can see that; overrun by students is right, and if you’d had to rush a £5 pint standing in a hallway you’d feel less charitable about it than we did having got a table.
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It was my round in here (at last, cried everyone else) and I think I paid £19 for 4½ pints of premium ales, so about par for the course for Oxford and well short of £5 a pint.
And you can still get £3 OBB in the Three Goats’ Heads.
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Can I just say, as Russ didn’t pick you up on it; the trick of “tourists scoffing scotch eggs through the glass” is something I’d have travelled miles to see! (As it was I’d got a prior engagement in Lichfield to see a folk-rock band called False Lights.)
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I was trying to come up with something asking just how you eat an egg through glass but gave up. 🙂
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You have to pay £10 (+ booking fee) to see that show.
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