These Welsh posts write themselves, don’t they ?
Back to Saturday afternoon.
The bus timetables not being co-ordinated to meet the needs or pub tickers, I had 40 minutes to explore Newport indoor market before setting off for Caerleon.
It’s quaint, but a bit lacking in the cheese department.
A bit like Caerleon.
Actually, plenty of artisan cheese in posho Caerleon, and a bit surprising to see a Proper Pub in the Guide, perhaps making up for the Red Lion that closed before it debuted in 2016.
Pool tables, tiled floors, live music from bands with naff names, bench seating of a sort and tables laid out with dragon sausage rolls ahead of a big Christmas party.
A public house in the truest sense. Of course, a house needs people. Here we had two Old Boys on 1664.
It’s not Cardiff.
The barman asked me what I wanted before I reached the bar. Luckily I knew they had Abbot. Unluckily it was average at best.
A pub needs custom, whether in mid-January or a Saturday in December. It seems you need a bit more than a 2nd round provincial snooker tournament to drag people out of the rain.
The bus stop had one of those tiny covers that makes you wetter than if you stood outside.
On the journey back I had the pleasure of a message from my sister, hunkered down in a warm Brew Dog in Bristol with an 11.5% barley wine.
But who had the tick ? Huh ?