So, only three of us standing at the end of MancCrawl 2018 in the backroom of the Circus.
Quite how Paul persuaded me into the Grey Horse (as well as the Lost Dene for breakfast), only he knows. Never try to keep up with the Stafford Mudge.
But it was only half six, my bedtime isn’t till the last Chinese takeaway closes, so I joined the great PubMan for a nightcap of Hydes Dark, or whatever the marketing men have rebranded it too. On excellent form (NBSS 3.5), as was all the beer in Manchester.
My notes say “Youngsters flock to Paul“. I assume it was these two lovely young people from Widnes again, seen here arranging their visa so they can cross the Mersey for Kirsty Walker’s Victorian Pub Crawl this autumn.
My other notes say “Money’s ruined the game” and Cheryl, possibly Cole. Goodness knows how BRAPA manages coherence after six pints.
Anyway, another hour mysteriously squandered, time to go. “Night, Paul”
Oh, what’s this ?
No harm looking.
Wonderful beer in a wonderful pub. I can’t remember anything except that plum taste.
As the song goes.