There must be a better blog title than that, but I’ve just had a haggis supper on the Royal Mile and I can’t be bothered.
Be prepared to be a bit surprised, though I’ll wager I can count the number of you who’ve previously enjoyed Scunny’s charms on one hand (a trip to Glanford Park doesn’t count).
Note I’ve marked the Berkeley Hotel, just reopened by Sams but a bit of a trek from the centre with my intensive schedule to keep up. A return trip to bring you its glories, hopefully swearing and mobile phone use, is on my giant To Do list.
Anyway, pub first, art later.
The Honest Lawyer (aren’t they all) was a Beer Guide regular in the late 90s/early 2000s, so I MUST have done it, mustn’t I ?
I hadn’t, you’d remember that exterior, and the staggering beer range.
The Sea Fury was £2 a half, too; quite a contrast with the Spoons across the road. A couple finished their Sunday lunch upstairs and left me the only customer on Sunday lunchtime.
The two staff were, and I don’t say this just so they don’t berate me on the blog, extremely friendly and cheery, despite the lack of custom. The most popular ale was Carling, apparently.
A pub to myself, I could singalonga Duran Duran (“View to a kill”) and Japan’s early classic “Like In Tokyo” and pretend I was Mark Crilley in 1985.
Mark would no doubt have enjoyed the classic wine bar décor,
and had that internal dialogue which starts “Hey, is the beer meant to taste like this ?”
NBSS 2 in my book, not dull enough to take back, but wondering quite when the volume sales that get the Lawyer in the Guide happen. Is there a vast legal profession that head here at 6 in the evening ?
A lot of great art though. Much of it very angry.
An arcade of low rise shops and blossom turned out to be the High Street, crowned by the vast Primark to the east.
This charity shop had an interesting Soviet-style design;
Turned out it was an independent café-cum-market with Backyard keg and Brooklyn lager on tap. Almost a craft invasion by North Lincs standards.
I stuck to the long black, which was remarkably good.
Genuinely, if Indie was in Shoreditch there’d be people queuing around the block. As it was it seemed the busiest place on a Scunthorpe Sunday.
My first visit to the town centre since 19995, when Mrs RM booked a flight to New Zealand while I watched Scunny beat Rotherham 4-1. Ah, memories.
The centre looks unchanged, though perhaps a longer line of mobility scooters.
I consulted the local tourist information board for ideas on how to spend 17 minutes.
And concluded that taking photos of old pubs and broken bottles was probably my best option.
Well, if that hasn’t sold you Scunthorpe, I don’t know what will.