Too many photos to stick in one post, and almost too much to report from the double decker pub trip from Freshwater to Newport.
All I’ll say is, make sure you grab a seat toward the back of the top deck.if you ever catch the school bus on Wight.
Teenagers told tales of mixing a McFlurry with Strongbow and whisky. A mouthy mum tried to involve me in an argument that went right over my head.
“Ooh. I’m sweating drops of pure mank. That really jiggled my bones”
I nodded, but thought she was a drama queen.
Newport is a modest but usefully modernised little town, a Stowmarket rather than a Sudbury, if you like.
The inevitable Spoons, one of two places on the island where you can justify your CAMRA life membership, is a cracking little place, and a deadringer for the one in Dumfries.
What can it possibly have been before ?
A perfectly average beer line up, though I noted the Doom Bar clip turned at an angle to try to improve the NBSS score. Sadly, I couldn’t resist that Island RBA again (NBSS 3.5+)
It was 90% boozers.
A bald escapee from Barking sought confirmation that Gordon Banks’s save was, indeed, the greatest of all time (it isn’t).
“I can name the 66 team in full” he said, starting with Banks.
Wilson. “Not many get him”
Counts them up. Realises it’s only ten.
“Cohen“. I scream. “Cohen“.
Ten minutes pass. He looks dejectedly at his wife. It still won’t come to him.