The Taylor family spent Sunday at home, the first time we’ve all been together under our own roof all day for 3 years. It’s hellish being stuck in Cambridge, but Mrs RM and I had overdone it yesterday with BRAPA.
Our longest family conversation today concerned Christmas meal plans. Due to Mrs RM’s frenetic work schedule it seems we’re stuck at home on 25 December, rather than in a Bass pub in Volgograd.
I was really looking forward to my traditional Xmas curry, possibly in a town with at least five Beer Guide pub open on Christmas Day, but apparently we’re not going to Plymouth on a day trip.
The Tokyo Express van in central Coventry would do me. Perhaps they’ll deliver to Waterbeach.
It was the highlight of my annual trip to Coventry to see how the city has transformed itself into a 21st century city. Or not.
Anyone who reads this blog will know I have an unusual affection for Cov, despite a centre rearranged by Luftwaffe and ’60s town planners. Grief, it’s even a reliable place for Draught Bass.
It takes a certain effort to appreciate the stretch of concrete between IKEA and the “other” cathedral. But I try.
The old and new cathedrals make one of our greatest sights side-by-side, and it was pleasing to see so many Japanese visitors admiring it on a grim Tuesday afternoon.
Most of Cov was in the Flying Standard, of course.
The Golden Cross looked so good I wondered why I’d never been in, or why it had taken the only central pub not to make the Guide to break its duck.
This is the area that the Fodors or Rough Guide tells the intrepid visitor to head for, and it attracts the gentlefolk in the most gentlefolk-friendly part of Cov.
I’m obliged to show you a picture of the bar.
It’s OK, it’s OK, and the Church End mild was OK, if a little chilled for a chilly day (NBSS 2.5/3).
But it was nearly £4 a pint, there was no local flavour to the banter (you could have been in Stratford-on-Avon), and ALL the tables looked set for groups of four on a shopping trip from Leamington Spa.
But, Bass in the Town Wall Tavern apart, you don’t come to Cov for the beer.