As we approach “Beery long read” day (I haven’t started yet), I give you yet another “Pubby short post“. Nothing to match our favourite pubcrawler LadySinksTheBooze though.
Kirsty’s tour of duty amongst the keg joys of Runcorn came to mind as we approached the Rifle Drum, the high point of our Northampton crawl.
Back in May 2016 I said the Rifle Drum was the best pub I’d never been in, and I commend Pub Curmudgeon for ensuring we visited now. He’s always game for a curveball visit to a keg emporium (see: Levenshulme).
“No pretensions to architectural merit” said Mudgie in his report, which is entirely fair. The only draw of the Drum is its location, tucked down an alley off the market place (is there anywhere as basic off a market in England ?).
I’ll be honest. After the pizza’n’craft of the Alexandra and the square box politeness of St Giles, this was the return to reality I needed at the 3/4 stage.
What I didn’t need was a possible torrent of abuse, Offerton-style, for a series of individually ordered halves of Guinness, so I bought my PINT of Fosters and took a stool.
You don’t get pubs with this much “atmosphere” in Cambridge, I can tell you. Or as many informal retail opportunities, as Richard reports here.
I’d love to tell you that the highlights of the Drum was a citizen’s arrest by Mr Coldwell, an argument about CAMRA vouchers, or a murky pint of Cloudwater DIPA.
But I’d be lying. Nothing happened. Our group of half drinkers and myself were largely ignored.
Neither as rough as it looks from the alley or an undiscovered gem, the highlight was the banter and 60s music that gave it the feel of a central Liverpool local like the Globe.
I’m glad we popped in. But the Fosters really was rubbish. I once won two pints of Fosters at a Mark Warner holiday camp on Corsica, “owning” a bloke who’d been on Weakest Link. A life highlight. Fosters has gone backwards since then.
So we didn’t hang around. Mrs RM deduced it would get no better and headed back to the Langham to watch National Lottery Live or whatever is on Saturday nights.
retiredmartin 
I hope it was the person who tactically voted me off the Weakest Link that you owned, that would be lovely symmetry
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Middle-aged balding bloke. Does that narrow it down ? My winning answer was “Mae West”. Remember that.
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My half a Strongbow was easily NBSS 2.
P.s just for correctness , there’s a missing “n”, Its Hartley Wintney, just saying.
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Thanks Citra, it looked wrong as I wrote it, but I couldn’t be bothered to check, what with Russ around to do it for me. You beat him !
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Again, note the time. It’s before 8pm UK time. 🙂
Plus, I was out of town all day yesterday and am running my wife’s lunch truck all day Wednesday and Thursday and then out of town all day Friday! (work, work, work) 😉
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Every day is a “wind Russ up” day.
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A decent boozer by the looks of it, but the best you’ve ever been in? I suspect you had to many lagers. Lager does that, you know – take away all your rational sense.
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Even the Guinness was sh1te. The pub could have been good, very good, Could have mind. But it wasn’t. The only thing it really needed was closing down.
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So that’s a Yes then ?
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I didn’t mind the fact there was no real ale, It was more the fact there was no decent keg.
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Exactly. I’d have been happy with a Locale like Carlsberg. Fosters really was vile.
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The Kronenbourg was perfectly OK. But not as good as it is in Spoons.
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You’ve made the point before about keg beer being as susceptible to variation quality as cask, but it’s not something I test often !
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Looks like a classic boozer Alan would have been in his element 😉 don’t forget you can have a crap pint in an ale pub too and Foster’s is generally relegation zone material at its best 😵
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A flip-flop mobile phone.I haven’t seen one of those in years.
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“so I bought my PINT of Fosters and took a stool.”
There are days when I can’t tell whether you’re taking the piss or not. 😉
“Or as many informal retail opportunities, as Richard reports here.”
Bloody hell.
“What is he doing ?”
Well, considering the *cough* advanced technology of his phone, I’d say unlocking it with a complicated hand gesture (which is more advanced than simple facial recognition). 🙂
“Pub life”
That ‘gentleman’ in the white undershirt certainly captures that!
“I once won two pints of Fosters at a Mark Warner holiday camp on Corsica,”
I thought you were going to add that the runner up won three pints. 🙂
Cheers
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I’m glad you spotted while undershirt man. I sense BRAPA would be jealous of this one, don’t you ?
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“I sense BRAPA would be jealous of this one, don’t you ?”
Indeed. Though he certainly does have a way of finding them as well. 🙂
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When I saw white undershirt man, I thought Onslow had joined your group…
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If you want to know what “quality beer” tastes like, drink a pint of Fosters. Every pint is quality afterwards. How do the have the gall to produce and sell such muck?
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Three billion Fosters drinkers can’t be wrong. And that’s just in Birmingham.
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