As Dick and Dave will confirm, the area of the Midlands west of the M5 and over to the Shropshire hills is as good as it gets in terms of beauty, Balti, and, er, bostin’ beer.
And there’s still much to be discovered; only last year the Lion O’Morfe near Bridgnorth appeared as if from nowhere as a new classic.
The stretch of A491/A449 from Stourbridge to Wolves is as posh as the “Black Country” gets (“It’s NOT the Black Country !” screams someone in Tipton), but the
Banks’s Marston’s pubs keep it honest.
A bit plain for some tastes,
but Wall Heath’s Horse & Jockey screams Proper Pub as you enter into an alternate universe to the Brum world of Embers and Brunning & Prices.
Just remember, always head for the bar, not the lounge.
Wall seating, beer mats, blokes with pints, sheepskin jacket and Puma sweatshirt.
Beers you’ve heard of, all comfortingly brewed close by, mostly in a lovely beer factory rather than under a mouldy railway arch.
No need for jam jars here.
A foaming half of Mild, which I’d actually assumed was now called something like “Sunset” or “Oldie”, but actually still retains the classic pump clip denied the Bitter these days.
All you need there for a late lunch. Just £2.75, or a third of a pint of 1664 in Parisian money. Cool, foamy, NBSS 3.5 and a thumbs-up for the cob.
Oh look, it’s gone.
Sky debates the Premier League, Lilly Allen debates her duff boyfriends, tradesmen debate BREXIT. That’s all you can ask from a pub, surely ?
I’ll leave BeerMat to explain this weird fascination with Peaky Blinders.