Just back from a trek round the Isle of Wight which made me hate buses forever, and reminded me just how ill I felt on the trip round the Fife coast this month. Only a short hop from Crail to Anstruther though. This was going to be a highlight of the Big CAMRA Weekend (fringe… Continue reading ANGUISH IN ANSTRUTHER
Greetings from Southsea where I’ve just discovered two of the best pubs in the world are next to each other. Expect a report in a month or so. For now we are still in Fife, where I’ve just jumped off the 99 as I need a “comfort break” in lovely Crail, (pop. 1,812). Never heard… Continue reading THE ‘WELL CRUMBLE IN CRAIL
Enough of my whining about dull beer. Anyway “It’s real ale, it’s supposed to taste like that“. Here’s some “street” art. It was a joy to be alive, a joy to not be in Maidenhead, a joy to be visiting my third GBG pub in St Andrews at 11:54am. Yes folks, three before noon. Paul… Continue reading THE REDEMPTION OF ST ANDREWS
Might as well keep going; I want Russ to have something to correct read when he gets home. If I ever get to the end of the Scottish trip, there’s eight Black Country pubs and nine in the Peak District to write up. One of them a new classic. No classics at St Andrews,… Continue reading ALL THAT GLITTERS….
Another big day dawned on the Sunday, as I finally made an emotional return to St Andrews for the first time since 1998. No ticks then as I was driving Mrs RM on a flying visit from Aberdour, but three (yes, 3) new pubs today. Beeching has a lot to answer for, but you… Continue reading ST ANDREWS – BRIDGE OVER TROUBLED CASK
I’ve always said I’d be completely honest on this blog. Unless Pipers wish to sponsor me with free crisps, in which case I’ll tell you their squashed Ole Gunnar Solskjaer flavour are their best ever. But sometimes I have to tell you beer quality isn’t great in Scotland, as the locals don’t drink it… Continue reading CARNOUSTIE – TIGER ROLL, PUBS WITH SOUL
WARNING : SLIDESHOW FRENZY ! Yippee ! A new town, a Protected Food type, a GBG tick and pre-emptive (possibly), and an old-fashioned Tayside derby at the coldest football ground in Britain. Yes, I’d been looking forward to Arbroath all year. 15 minutes on the train from Dundee to a Proper Town. Yes, a scruffy… Continue reading ARBROATH – SMOKIES, SPOONS AND A SPOKE IN THE PROMOTION WHEEL