BRAPA gives you fake punk references, I give you the 3rd book of Daniel, prompted by this typically obscure Dorset street name.
Burton Bradstock was our lunch stop en route to the mythical city of Bridport.
It was also a chance for us to ruin our walking boots along the coastal path.
Hard to imagine, writing this in a heatwave as I prepare to head to Cleethorpes, but last Monday Cogden Beach was a quagmire. Just as I was warning Mrs RM about the slippery mud I slipped myself, ensuring I’d be denied entry into Bridport’s “nitespots” later that day.
We snuck into the Three Horseshoes when the uniformed staff weren’t looking, hiding muddy jeans under the high table. Then we realised we were better off in the low sofa down by the fire, where Mrs RM’s feet could reach the floor and she could avoid being eaten by the dogs dominating the dining room. High tables or sofas, what a choice.
At the bar (top), the row of six (6) shiny Palmers pumps looked the part, but persuaded no-one to shift from Amstel, Thatchers and halves of Fosters. Cask needs to be your fastest seller, particularly if you’re a village gastro pub. The Copper was a tired 2.
The only discernible banter concerned lost property, a five minute conversation necessary to determine that, no, she hadn’t left her pashmina here.
On the other hand, the young staff were cheery and the “Szechuan Pepper & Sea Salt Squid Salad” sensational. But that’s not why you go to pubs.
Up the hill to the Anchor, a much plainer (and much quieter) dining pub. On the way we saw the village’s art installation, an old car parked in exactly the right position to cause traffic chaos. It’s called “Prat“.
A family of four were settling down to a long hour of dining indecision, but otherwise the Anchor was quiet at the height of the Easter holidays,
Despite being unmodernised, a half of OK Otter (NBSS 2.5) and a black coffee cost me a staggering £4.70, a reminder we’d left Portland for Dorset proper.
You may recognise the beer range.
Abba were competing for our attention with BBC News 24, and losing. “Why do pubs have the TV on at the same time as the radio ?”, says Mrs RM, wisely.
Ten handpumps in two pubs in a seaside village. I saw one pint pulled in the 90 minutes we were there. And that was ours. That’s the real battle for CAMRA.
retiredmartin 
As a real ale fella originally from that there Darzet, even I struggled to drink Palmers (except Tally Ho!). A reminder that not all Traditional Family Breweries were part of a lost Golden Age. 😉
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Palmers are a bit like Donnington in that respect. I never had much time for Hall & Woodhouse beers either come to think of it, and Vaux was the only brewery I was glad to see the back of.
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Agreed it’s always been my Donnington.
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I have got lots of time for Palmers, Donnington and Hall & Woodhouse, much better than drinking murky craft crap and some of the newer brewers who just seem to do light beers.
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Agree about beer styles, Alan. Not a fan ofDonnington
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I’m not quite sure what demographic a bar towel with “Relax with an Otter” is aimed at.
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I’m not sure what CAMRA can do about pubs where most people drink lager or other keg beers putting six cask beers on the bar when turnover would suggest one or two, apart from the local branch not selecting them for the GBG.
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It could criticise the practice in its publications.
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But then they wouldn’t get CAMRA discounts ? 😕
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But that risks ending up with another Sam Smith scenario of a brewery only producing one cask beer. If sales are as low as Martin thinks, that Palmers range can only really be justified if the bar is using cask breathers on pins of most of the beers.
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Agree. The problem is the managed house expected to take the full range. 20 years ago GBG stalwarts like the New Inn (?) in Kilmington just did the two standard beers, and were at a guess selling 50% more cask than now.
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Rather like Rod Liddle being unable to write an article without using the phrase bien pensant I’m worried about your obsession with pashminas.
But you’re right about excessive beer tapping – less really is more.
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Pashminas.
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Weren’t they formed from a couple of ex Fall members?
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Been in both those pubs. The big problem Palmers have is they have too much of a monopoly in the area. They also have to many pubs with too many different cask beers on. And as you say the beers taste tired. The best pint of Palmers is The Ropemakers, Bridport and The West Bay Hotel at West bay (very good food too). Bet you went to The Tiger too?
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Report on all those on the way. You’re right, unusually.
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The parked car photo was good, but the lack of mobility scooters lately is concerning.
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You’re right, Dan. Fortunately I’m now in Cleethorpes where lack of mobility scooters is not a concern.
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The West Dorset equivalent of the mobility scooter is an elderly Suzuki Swift.
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Szechuan Pepper & Sea Salt Squid Salad ? and Peroni?
I’m in.
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I reckon one or two is easily enough unless demographics suggest otherwise… otherwise you will put newcomers off altogether
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“Pointless map”
Indeed. I like the ever popular “you are here”. Well of course you’re here, you’re standing right in front of the bloody map! 🙂
“Better map”
Not a lot to remark on there. I suppose the Burton Freshwater bit is due to the outpouring of the nearby river?
“Proper mud”
A lot of the Brit blogs have been commenting on that the past few weeks. 😉
“Great parking, Sir”
Good lord. Was he really parked there?
“It’s called “Prat“.”
Ahhh. That explains it then. Also, ‘prat’ is merely ‘post art’ mixed up and shortened.
“a half of OK Otter (NBSS 2.5) and a black coffee cost me a staggering £4.70,”
Yowza! (shocked face)
““Why do pubs have the TV on at the same time as the radio ?”, says Mrs RM, wisely.”
If they have the telly on with no sound, and you watch it to the sound of the radio, maybe that’s the modern day equivalent of watching a lava lamp whilst listening to an LP. 🙂
Cheers
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The exterior of the Three Horseshoes is so lovely it would make me forgive the mediocre beer. Well, for a single visit, anyway. : )
Love that photo of the Creedy Vintage Cider jug!
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Me too. The problem is you don’t know whether the real ales are going to be great or tired, so folk feel safe having a brand lager. The circle continues, and cask dies.
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