We were drinking at a moderate pace (by Mrs RM standards), and it was a quarter past one when we arrived at the Angel.
Last time here I was here 5 years ago I met Mrs RM after a Dzeko goal had seen off Crystal Palace at the Etihad. Where did it all go wrong for City ?
That day we enjoyed NBSS 4 White Lion beer, French onion soup and a pianist to liven a busy but civilised atmosphere.
How things change. Look at these ruffians from Minneapolis, Stafford, Stockport and Sowerby lowering the tone at the bar.
Being a Pub expert I’d already sat down ready for my half of something called a beer.
This one came from a range of what I’d call “reliable unfashionable smaller breweries” which I’m sure will upset someone. The half above (my only half of the day, a mistake) was NBSS 3.5. Again, temperature and condition ideal in Mancland.
This was midday on Wednesday 2 January, a little too quiet for some of us, but we had to make our own fun by constructing a drone out of Wilsons’s pump clips and elastic bands to take this aerial shot.
In years past, folk would entertain themselves discussing City’s defence or the future of CAMRA in a KeyKeg world.
Now they take photos of vinegar next to a perfectly good half (if that’s not an oxymoron) next to a sampler glass which has no place in society.
Cosy and homely, I thought. I’ll pop back and eat here on a match day.
I sat next to a lovely young man (i.e. born since England won the World Cup) called Tom who had a litany of demonic traits. Not only was he a rugby fan and wore a French shirt* but he didn’t like Plum Porter. I’d follow his Twitter and berate him if I were you.
I’ve saved the best ’till last.
The outside gents are a throwback to the days when we had the joy of a urinal under the stars, in this case reached via a jumble of art and tat.
And the best graffiti is nearly always found outside.
Time for the Hare Hounds. Or was it ?
*Tom has asked me to point out it was a Courage shirt, not a France jersey.