Another “real ale-free” issue to confuse our American readers, but you’ll live. And I needed to do Dudley justice with a clear head.
Actually, I had a bit of a sleepless night in the Station. I was sure I heard wild animals at the window, and I seemed to be alone in the hotel.
It could have been the Weight Watchers making that noise (I know you’re not allowed to call them that these days), but the explanation became apparent as I walked past one of Dudley’s many tourist attractions;
Dudley isn’t genteel, and the shopping has been decimated by Merry Hill, but it does still have some of the grandeur of a county town.
I’d walked most of Duncan Edwards Way the night before, but missed the wonderful statue in the market place.
No idea about the gent below, but as he’s pointing to a book advertising “opening at three” I presume it’s Pubmeister checking GBG opening times.
As usual, look up to see the very best of Dudley.
The town redesign programme has some way to go though.
Of course, to get a real sense of a place you need to visit the local Spoons at 10am.
Architecturally, one for the Spoons purist. The mid-90s Moon-themed name is a giveaway.
One of the quieter Tim emporia, I’m afraid. Which may explain why it’s no longer in the Guide. Carling needs plenty of turnover to be at its best.
Not sure why I’m showing you the pumps, since I was flat-whiting, but interesting to see the guests costing 16p more than in Scotland. That £2 a pint barrier must not be broken.
“But how was the Miner’s Benedict ?” you ask.
As good as ever.
I don’t know if I have warm blood, but everyone else in the Full Moon seemed to be wering a duffle coat despite the warmth.
Not a single pint of cask cold between 10:00 and 10:27. It’s a tragedy, I tell ya.