Back in Aberdeen, via the hospital and every possible bus stop in the western suburbs, I pondered three things over flat whites in the Archibald Simpson.
a) I would never have another beer, ever.
b) It was my own fault.
c) I couldn’t just sit in Wetherspoons nursing a coffee for five hours till Mrs RM finished her assignment.
I could have watched any film for a fiver at Vue, but I don’t like subtitled films. So I went and had some sushi in the indoor market.
Now the indoor food market is neither vast (Leeds) or hipster (Brixton or Altrincham), just unpretentious and interesting. Aberdeen wins.
They were fantastic folk in the Sushi Box, clearly recognising someone in a delicate state who didn’t need Coldplay being played, or asked a series of complex questions.
This is Gyndon Dunburi (I think, anyway), picked solely because the last customer had it why not ?
They also had weird looking drinks that I assume came from an offshoot of BrewDog that makes craft beer,
but I stuck with green tea.
Eagle-eyed devotees may have noted I was one down on the Aberdeen GBG entries, assuming they know what I’d already ticked. I assume the Chinese Government do, since I use a Huawei. There’s probably a clip of me attempting to use chopsticks on YouTube by now.
One last pub.
I’d steeled myself for a last half of the trip in Aitchies Ale House. Actually, it had been closed for renovation on Tuesday and Wednesday, and I did wonder if they’d let me down badly on the Thursday as well when I saw the painter at the window.
But Aitchie’s keeps its promises, opening despite a bit of late touching-up, and was heaving.
But…..our barman couldn’t reach the handpump to dispense a half of Orkney because of the paintwork. This would be the most improbable reason not to get a beer in ticking history.
“Can you come back later.” Or you can have Tennents, I guess.
So I visited the Marine Museum (excellent) and admired a model of a micro pub being built on a North Sea rig to replace revenue lost when the oil fields dry up.
At 3.15 I tried Aitchies again. This time, the Orkney Dark Island spluttered out.
It’s no architectural classic, but it is a great boozer in the Alan Winfield/Beer Mat mould, welcoming and cosy.
I was lucky to grab the last table, right under Eddie Jones, who was no doubt claiming England could nick a point against the all-conquering Scots or something.
Very blokey, very boozy, very boisterous. But utterly civilised.
70% Tennents, 10% Stella, and I didn’t see the Orkney handpump used again. But my half was still GBG standard (NBSS 3 +).
In some ways, a microcosm of the city’s pubs. Pubs > Beer. Just as it should be.
retiredmartin 
I believe you mean Gyudon Donburi , isn’t Google clever.
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I was mighty close😂
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My wife tells me in Japan one says simply “gyudon”, as the “-don” part of that word is itself an abbreviation of “donburi.” Love the little tabletop calendar you took a pic of!
You’ve got me wondering what are some of the defining traits of “a great boozer in the Alan Winfield/Beer Mat mould”? I’m picturing something no-nonsense, a good working man’s pub, that sort of thing?
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You’re picturing exactly what I’m picturing, Mark ;-0. There’s plenty of pubs like Aitchies in Glasgow and Edinburgh; perhaps Aitchies is a little plain internally, but it’s meticulously run and I doubt they get any trouble. Mostly blokes but a few ladies in groups as well, and not all OAPs by any means.
Thanks for the clarification on “Gyudon”. I have a different picture of that calendar for my wrap-up post.
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Thanks for the trip down memory lane. I loved stovies with my beer at Aitchie’s ale house and the boat they found buried in someone’s garden in the marine museum. Aberdeen is the best.
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Oh, I missed the stovies, but I can just imagine them in Aitchie’s.
The marine museum is beautifully done.
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