Having dumped BRAPA at Huntingdon station I trudged back to Waterbeach to feed Matt. I have a phobia about being at home at the best of times, but Saturday Night in Cambridgeshire is always an ordeal.
But redemption was at hand.
Saimon (no relation) is the village skate punk/twitcher/beer geek, and gets my thumbs up for alerting me to the arrival of the Draught Bass at the Sun.
I popped in between ordering Matt’s kebab,
and recording my parents’ garden at dusk.
I’ve told you enough about the Sun. A proper local, beer well-kept, Sky football to the left. All you need.
Half a dozen regulars, including a worrying number of Liverpool fans cheering Salah’s winner at Huddersfield.
I nodded acknowledgement to Andrew, the Landlord.
“Bass ?” And that was it. How did he know ?
It was a good Bass, perfect temperature and tight head. Not quite the flat masterpiece of the Petersgate, but as good as you’ll get in Derby this week.
So I did my bit, but I suspect it’s not on tonight and won’t be back for a while.
Why do pubs rotate their beers when kebab vans don’t keep changing their range ?