The next day Bass popped up again in Bourne, of all places. What is this witchcraft, is Bass suddenly fashionable ?*
Bourne isn’t fashionable. Even with the giants of Stamford and Spalding either side. A town that’s basically a busy bit of A15 with a few shops either side, I struggled to bring you anything interesting.
Smiths is the grown-ups pub, and clearly Sam’s is the stand-out shop.
This was a first stop in the town in a decade; what can the Anchor offer ?
Well, a proper pub sign, for a start. And conkers, always important.
This was a mixed experience. 3pm opening, a fair few Old Boys already in and stretching out in two rooms dominated by dark wood,
“Almost a Fenland parlour pub” I noted at the time. Anyone who enjoyed the cosy homeliness of Ely’s West End House would appreciate the Anchor, if not the soundtrack of Green Day and the Beastie Boys.
But alarm bells rang at the bar. SIX beers. In a backstreet pub in Bourne. Even Stamford would stop at four.
My brain said Jaipur, my heart said Bass.
And of course, this Bass tasted of nothing, lacking freshness and condition (NBSS 1.5). Not quite poor enough to argue about, though a couple of Portuguese visitors (hopefully not drawn by the GBG) were certainly complaining about something.
Even Sooty looked perplexed at the Cask Ale Lottery.
*Anyone saying £60 a barrel will get banned