Admit it, you weren’t expecting this, were you ? No. 127 in my Top 100 comes from Skegness. Theoretically. Actually the Vine Hotel is from an alternate universe to the one inhabited by Busters Fun Pub (
seven changing ales).
We stuck to the back streets on the way into the fun from North Shore. Clearly the town hasn’t opened for business this year yet, or else the supplies of Carling delayed by the snow last week still haven’t got through.
The Vine is the second Skeggy GBG entry, edging out a Wetherspoons that managed to be less skeggy, and therefore much duller than you’d expect.
Lots of gentlefolk eating curries, a few locals on Bud Light, two pints of real ale poured for intrepid beer tourists from Cambridge and Norfolk to use up my quarter’s Spoons vouchers.
Average to good Spoons beer from Dorset Brewing and Evan Evans (exact same range as in Louth Spoons, fact fans), but some stellar lacings.
The Vine is tucked at the end of a dark, dark lane. So dark Charles had to activate his secret torch to prevent us bumping into abandoned mobility scooters.
Actually, more likely to bump into the row of Audis parked in the Vine’s car park, dimly illuminated by low lighting from Skegness’s premier hotel (it says).
The entrance is rather gorgeous.
Mrs RM and I stayed here on the eve of the millennium (if you believe that started in 2000 rather than 2001), before I rushed home to Harperbury Hospital as on-call officer for the Year 2000 Bug. Ah, memories.
It sticks in the mind because the great Roger Protz was staying there too, and our six month old son howled through the Prawn Cocktail before we called it quits. I didn’t say hello to Roger.
Back in 1999, it just seemed an old-fashioned Best Western. Now, it’s an old fashioned Best Western with a proper public bar.
The busiest pub by far on a cold Thursday night in March, and clearly selling more Batemans than the rest of Skeggy put together. These folk had clearly trudged past 17 fun pubs to get here and drink BBB.
Charles found the last table in the dark brown corner, right next to the HD TV showing darts.
Alongside restaurants of increasing formality in the other three rooms, there was an Indian menu in the bar. There is no better beer to wash down a Chicken Dhansak than XB (NBSS 3.5+), though the maltier XXXB was a bit of a challenge. Yummy.
If this sounds a bit like another Vine, you’d be right.
Simon would have picked up on banter about “Saveloy at the Savoy”; I confess I was gripped by the darts. Some bloke made a stirring comeback against another bloke; we waited for the 13th and deciding leg. They called it a draw at 6-6 and went down the pub.
We took the lighter way back to our Golf Hotel, too full for the guest beer.
*It turned out young James had a hernia. I know you like medical detail