More short reads, as I type this on a phone, which is my excuse for the inevitable typo. I can’t even do OS extracts to titillate Russ at the moment.
You left me in a Winton micro trying to work out the most exciting way to walk into Bournemouth proper.
But how can you walk past a beauty like this ?
Joking. It’s a very plain Spoons in the suburban style familiar to anyone who’s visited all the Portsmouth Timbo emporia, with some highly tenuous links to rock history.
Your usual Spoons crowd, a mix of folk who can’t be bothered to take their KFC into a micro pub and semi-professionals drinkers.
No Beer Guide place for this evil non-micro, of course, so why was I there ?
Why, to take a photo of a humorous pump clip, of course. And drink a gallon of flat white for £1.25.
I succumbed to the Flack Manor, a bellwether pint.
It was terrible, undrinkable. Of course, you can always take a pint back in Spoons without fear of being labelled a liar/idiot/beer bore. Even here, it took a staff consultation to get it replaced.
I pointed at the Jurassic. That was much better, a 3.5 perhaps, and enjoyed the spectacle of human life unfolding.
Then I saw the nice lady turning round a pump clip. Ah, unlike that posh pub in Fareham last week, they take the duff beer off sale. Hurrah.
Sadly, she’d turned round the good one. I hadn’t got the energy to restart the debate.
No knob jokes please, Prof.