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 of it before, but it’s got more Beer Guide pubs than Wembley, and I stopped here half an hour into the trek to Anstruther.
If I’m honest it was much due to the bumpy bus ride along the coast as my weak bladder. And because I can’t bear to pass an unticked pub as attractive as the Golf Hotel.
I said “Hello” and headed straight for the Gents, nearly breaking my walking leg on the descent.
Normally I’d order my half first before heading to the loo, it’s only polite, but the posh young Sassenach students on a romantic trip out from the Uni were taking sooooo long to decide I couldn’t wait.
Back at the bar the Landlady seemed to serve the locals their Tennents first before turning to me.
I asked Hugo what he was drinking. The following exchange actually happened.
“Scuse me. Is that Bitter and Twisted” (pointing to his beer).
” I don’t know what it is yet. I haven’t tasted it“.
Er, no, I meant…Oh never mind.
“It’s called Guzzler“. Finally. This was a man to whom Guzzler was as exotic as Mikkeller’s Eat Your Own Ears is to you and me.
This thankfully wasn’t the same barrel of Guzzler that Si and I suffered in mid-Wales 3 years ago. It was cool and fruity and rather impressive (NBSS 3.5).
The bar was filling up as Motherwell attempted to keep the Scottish league alive by capitulating to Rangers, just like Spurs do in England.
I had to squeeze into the snug-like corner, unable to watch the (lack of) drama, but just far enough away from the furnace to avoid incineration.
My little corner had a picture of Nicholas with his 1977 award for Tennents drinker of the year, and a tiny table for my beer.
It was wonderful.
I took my glass back, and said thanks. I’m sure the Landlady said “Later !”. What can it mean.
Half an hour to the next bus, enough to do a bit of coastal path and buy a huge bar of Cadbury’s Whole Nut.
There were a few American tourists, bored of walking the same street in St Andrews. Crail felt authentically remote and I liked it a lot.
But an hour was plenty. Anstruther awaits me.
retiredmartin 
First!
And with that juvenile comment out of the way I’m just popping in quickly to say, in the best Monty Python tradition, I’m not dead yet! 🙂
Busier than a 3-armed paper hanger and, to top it off, heading out to Cancun for a week in a few hours (getting up at 2am to catch the first flight!). So, I hope to back to my usual witty self posting comments come early May.
Cheers!
Oh, and a happy semi-late St. George’s Day.*
* – I say semi-late since, owing to Easter, we’re not supposed to celebrate it until next Monday.
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As you’ll know I don’t celebrate any days except my own.
Isn’t Cancun near where the Prof is making merry?
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Same country,different ocean.
I do hope Russ turns the light out when he leaves Canada because most of their citizens appear to be in Mexico with us sat in 30 degrees heat watching the ice hockey on TV.
Friendly folk though once you’ve worked out what they’re saying which is usually ” give me another gallon of margarita and a stack of burgers boy is this stuff cheaper than back home.”
Quantity not quality appears to be the order of the day.And it’s a sentiment we’re happy to share.
We eased into yesterday with a selection of beers at two craft breweries and all were uniformly awful.
Monzon Breeding Co in particular was just really bad homebrew – their “English-style ESB ” tasted like Nigel Farage’s Union Jack socks after a busy day canvassing.
Keen to forget this memory we adjourned to Apachi’s Martini Bar for their Happy Hour rocket fuel and got halfway hammered on some excellent cocktails for a pittance.
We tarried for nachos and 6.5% artisanal beer and tequila slammers at La Cerveza Union before watching the sun go down at El Solar beach bar with an amazingly refreshing drink that was basically a pint of fresh mint and home-made tequila with lemonade.
And we dined,as we have done most nights in Puerto Vallarta at our favourite restaurant.
Not Mexican,because Mrs PP-T has pronounced most local food to be “bean-based slops ” but an Outback Steakhouse.
Hot wings for her,a tomahawk steak for me and a bottle of Robert Mondavi Cab Sav between us for about 25 quid – boy is this stuff cheaper than back home.
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You’re actually holed up in a caravan in Rhyl, aren’t you Prof 🤔
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Worryingly authoritative, on the taste of those socks there, Prof…
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Does anywhere in Ryhl serve delicious Huevos con Chorizo or Machacha tacos for breakfast which Mrs PP-T has just reluctantly brought me from the local restaurant opposite the condo.
With a nice cup of Twinning’s English
Breakfast Tea.
I say reluctant because she’s still not convinced about the local grub – preferring a ham and cheese sambo instead.
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Rhyl is a surprising place, Prof. I’ll investigate for you.
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Bloody hell,I’ve just looked out the window and it’s cloudy !
That’ll be Russ and his Flying Typo Corrector heading for the fleshpots of Cancun.
Just checking the news on what we’ve missed since we’ve been away – I see Nigel Farage is playing another blinder,some wierd kid in pony tails says the world is doomed and Eric Cantona has sent social media into a frenzy with a video of a penis smashing an egg.
Funnily enough the Cantona story is the first time Mrs PP-T has shown the slightest interest in Instagram,whatever that is.
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“Russ and his Flying Typo Corrector”
I hadn’t realised Gong had a Canadian offshoot.
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You appear to have missed this, Prof. Yes, “blinder” for sure:
https://www.thedailymash.co.uk/politics/politics-headlines/brexit-causes-return-of-ann-widdecombe-20190424185014
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Ann is actually the only person living in Kent who doesn’t run a Micropub.
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Had a nice chat with her at Newton Abbott station – she has a place near Widecombe in the Moor I think.
Lovely pub there – Rugglestone Inn.
Decent old bat but the Tories must be deep in the mire if she has defected.
Will do well in the South West.
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So where’s next for us, in your Homicide Hotspot bucket list tour then, Prof?
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Darganfyddais gwir baradwys Rhyl (I discovered the true paradise of Rhyl) As ever, Cerys got it right.
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In parts of W. Yorks such as Halifax, people say “see you later”, even if they won’t that day. Maybe this is just shortened to “later” elsewhere?
You’ll have to say “Harviestoun” too next time, Martin. With some beer names, this sort of thing could lead to awful misunderstandings…
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Oh yes, “See you later” works. You’re an expert.
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Later today, later this week, later this month, later this year…….
it is meaningless, which is why folks say it to strangers.
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The locals in HX say it to each other without fail.
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HX – Halifax?. Never knew.
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You know those LE postcodes though, Martin. Loving those East Coast pan tiles again, btw.
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Rangers did well to play Hibs and Motherwell on the same day?
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Fixture congestion, Leon.
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Good grief a decent pint in Scotland!!!
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When it’s good, real ale in Scotland is some of the best anywhere. It’s just it tends to centre on a small number of pubs where people come to drink cask beer, which 95% of drinkers have no interest in.
The pubs are routinely pubby though…
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And that’s the good point…the pub is al important really as most people just go to get on the smash!!!
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