The second new tick in Poole was the “attractive old all-rounder” that is the King Charles.
More locals than tourists. beers you’ve heard of, pub grub, Willie Nelson cover of “Ghost Riders on the Storm“, you know the type. In Cambridge it would be the Baron of Beef, I guess.
Poole only has the 3 GBG entries (blame the micros in the ‘burbs), down from half a dozen when I first visited. Getting out of What Pub and into the GBG proper is like getting out of that Group of Death that Scotland are always in.
An attractive stock of Proper Pubs (e.g. the Waddies pub round the corner) has been supplemented by all the chain places you could possibly not want, including a B&K that’s possibly the only one not to make the Guide this year.
No dining pub/homebrew horrors in the Charles, and Professional Drinkers keeping a safe 10 feet apart so they can have a shouted conversation and you can see the bar.
Secretly, don’t we all long for a beer range of Doom Bar, Sea Fury and Landlord ?
Yes, it really does say 30p for a sample, either to allow tickers to tick pubs and rare beers like Doom Bar easily, or because folk you ask for a taster are massive *****.
Two lads in their mid-20s came in, stared for a while, and “played it safe with Doom Bar“.
I ask the chap at the bar with a menu what he’s just ordered as the (exceptional) barmaid scuttles off
“What’s that, mate, Landlord”
“No it’s Timothy Taylor“
Your dull is someone else’s rarity.
I order a seafood stew and take my exceptional (left to condition) pint of Landlord (NBSS 4) to the table with the best view.
For £12 I get superbly fed and watered, and a little bit of comedy just for my benefit.
Often it just involves asking for things that aren’t on the menu, but occasionally you get real gems.
“How many children you got Bill ?”
“Five. That I know of, obviously. One in every port.”
Loads of unrepeatable stuff about Trump, holding hand with Theresa May, aliens and the lady who’d fell off the cruise ship.
“Obviously she floated. She’s a woman”
“What would you do if you fell in Len”
“I’d drown”. I bet he wouldn’t.
Great pub. And they said “Cheers my dear” when I left.