A rare outing for Luke 4:23 on the blog as I return to the UK for those pubs you all love.
High tables, foliage, irrelevant tat on the walls.
Yes, I’m sure you’ve identified Brunning & Price disease already.
A miserable drizzled walk out from confusing New Street Station, but at least I remembered my umbrella, so I was only mildly drenched when I reached Boston Tea Party where I had half an hour to dry off before the Physician opened.
I still stopped to take a few shots to capture the essence of “Edgbaston Village“, which is basically a Morrison’s and some offices and creches.
The campaign against independent (read:lukewarm) coffee shops is run from this blog, unless Boston Tea Party (22 outlets) consider themselves an indie.
The Edgbaston branch is wonderful.
Staff singing along to “Come On Eileen“, a discussion about whether you can call tea “full-bodied” (“If you can call a coffee robust, I guess you can“), and “Is that OK for you, Darling ?“. Top, top service.
You could have been in a Titanic pub in Stoke. Great breakfast, too.
I only left when they started playing The Strokes.
Let’s be honest, no-one really believes a pub (bar you-know-who) is going to be open at 10am, do they ?
But it was. Right on the dot. I can slag them off for being identikit dining rooms for poshos, but you can’t say a word about their efficiency or foliage.
commitment to cask obsession with a long line of handpumps.
NEVER go for a beer resurrecting a name from the past, folks. “It’s famous” apparently, it’s also made with special diacetyl flavourings. Apart from that, it was great (NBSS 2).
I made immediate plans to ditch it and continue my journey to more reliable parts of the West Midlands.
“What you looking for ?” said a bloke as I wandered round aimlessly looking for the Gents.
“MIND THE PAINT !!!” said the bloke as I followed directions that involved three changes of direction.
Giving up on finding the loos, I gave my half a spell in front of the fire to see if it improved, but it was switched off so that didn’t work this time.
So I took it in search of a pot plant. A big one.
When I returned, an amazing thing had happened.
The Physician had started to fill up. A group of Polish lads planning their weekend over pints of lager, an interview for an IT job in one of the 17 different rooms, and a few gentlefolk popping in for coffees and braving the piped Radio 1.
It was all very jolly, and a reminder that in Edgbaston, you have to use these dining places for boozing or you’d be stuffed.
Hi-Vis jackets in a Brunning & Price. Wouldn’t see that in Ascot.