Back at the terrifying underpass at Newport Station at 7pm, I had a few choices after checking in at the Spoons. Train to Cardiff to join a crowd of 7 million celebrating the TdF with Brains in a plastic cup. Go to bed, listen to Brexit debate over a Chinese takeaway. As 2), but find… Continue reading NOW, EVEN NEWPORT GOES MICRO MAD
Month: August 2018
LIPSMACKIN’ CHEPSTOW
You’ll be delighted to hear that, following discussions between myself and our readers in Kent and Ireland, brokered by Kofi Annan, I have agreed to discontinue the weird “paint effect” filter. Instead, I bring you Chepstow in black and white, which I hope you like. Actually, it looked like a black and white town in… Continue reading LIPSMACKIN’ CHEPSTOW
THE GOOSE & CUCKOO – SOMETHING ELSE
If you’re getting bored of reports from isolated village pubs, hankering for photos of tat shops and misspelt advertising in quirky towns, your wait will soon be over. But for now, a few more rural Gwent gems. That OS extract captures the variety of Wales perfectly. Posh Abergavenny with its pashmina shops, scruffy Blaenavon… Continue reading THE GOOSE & CUCKOO – SOMETHING ELSE
OLD BOYOS IN THE OLDEST PUB IN WALES
Yes, Ushers. You don’t see that heading a post much these days, d’ya ?* A hefty walk along Offa’s Dyke, for once not too muddy, takes you towards the Skirrid Inn, supposedly even older than the debate about baps v cobs. Rather like the Royal Standard in Bucks or the Fighting Cocks, this is… Continue reading OLD BOYOS IN THE OLDEST PUB IN WALES
THE KILLING MOON
Yet more Welsh pubs as I close in on Gwent completion; two ancient ones in the heart of Gwent, a surprising county. I might whine a bit about warm beer, but there’s some unspoilt gems either side of posh Abergavenny and Monmouth. Every one who reads the Sunday supplements heads for Crickhowell and Hay (after… Continue reading THE KILLING MOON
AND SO TO BWLCH
A couple of winners to end Wales Part I, on that hallowed stretch of A40 road that takes you from Brecon to Bass in the Bear at Crickhowell. Apart from the posh Bear (return visit overdue), there’s some renowned pubs like the Star in Talybont, and the New Inn in Bwlch (always pronounced wrongly). So… Continue reading AND SO TO BWLCH
PLANT WATERING IN BRECON
A night around Brecon, another 3 GBG pub town that I’d only ever been to once, back when “Love Is All Around” was Number 1. Mind you, that narrow it down to between 1993 and 1995, given how long it was top of the charts. I know it’s got hills and all that, but… Continue reading PLANT WATERING IN BRECON
DRAUGHT BASS DRAMA IN THE BRECON BEACONS
If BRAPA ever writes a novel he might well devote a whole chapter to the Red Lion in Penderyn, one of the most bizarre experiences of the year. If Aberdare is a Valleys Leiston, a town tourists avoid completely or stop by to stock up at Lidl, then Penderyn is its Dunwich, a honeypot drawing… Continue reading DRAUGHT BASS DRAMA IN THE BRECON BEACONS
FLAMING DRAGON CURRY IN ABERDARE
I thought I’d seen it all by the age of 53. Jacaranda trees in bloom in Harare, Cliff Richard in Cambridge in the summer of ’74, the family naan in Balti Towers, two goals in injury time to win the League. Even the Pubmeister in shorts. But apparently I’d never seen Aberdare. A town… Continue reading FLAMING DRAGON CURRY IN ABERDARE
DIAL “M” FOR MERTHYR
Into the Valleys, as the Skids would say, albeit in a slightly croakier voice nowadays than in 1979. It’s been a Skids sort of month. As so often in Wales, the plainest towns have the greatest frames. I make no great claims for Merthyr Tydfil, again without a Beer Guide pub to call its own… Continue reading DIAL “M” FOR MERTHYR
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