
And so begins a run of 22 pubs in Wales, on a seventh day of Welsh pubbing in 2019. What a wonderful country. What (largely) woeful cask beer.
I was tempted to lump this lot together, but I know how quickly your patience runs thin when I go over 400 words.
And you need to suffer like I suffered.
At least the walks from railway stations aren’t too bad.

Yes, Pub No.1 is buried in rural Carmarthenshire. Of Capel Hendre, Wiki says only;
Even the interesting looking pub doesn’t get a mention on Wiki.

The King’s Head /Pen y Brenin (no idea what that means) is neat and cosy as you head for the bar on the left.

Carling beer mats and the Arsenal team photo from their legendary 1983-84 season suggest a Proper Pub.


But there’s no-one else drinking, and no-one at the bar. I stand there for 5 minutes, silver coins in hand, and smile at the gentlefolk in the dining lounge.

Perhaps they smile back. You never can tell in Wales.
I don’t mind waiting, diners come first in rural pubs, and the greeting is cheery when it arrives.

The Gower Gold was actually decent, in that cusp between NBSS 2.5 and 3 that us tickers know so well since 2007.
I could have stayed at the bar and been entertained by tales of Llannelli hospital appointments, but the garden had pashmina potential.

The views aren’t quite Gower, but they’re good enough for a Fen Boy.

I actually finished this half, which you can see set beautifully against the empties from a fun-filled lunchtime next to me.
For five points, what’s the thing in the tub behind the Desperados ?

It looks like something I might be more familiar with if I had young children.
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Blue foam candy. Mostly seen in Belgium.
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“What a wonderful country. What (largely) woeful cask beer.”
So… Scotland but with accents that are more easily understood?
“40 mins”
A slightly brisk pace then as Google Maps pegs it as 46. 🙂
“The King’s Head /Pen y Brenin (no idea what that means)”
That appears to be the translation according to the Interwebs. 😉
“That’s sunlight not my filter”
Sunlight? In Wales?
“You never can tell in Wales.”
The sunlight would’ve blinded you to it anyway.
“Note receptacle on table for undrunk beer”
At least they’re not shy about it.
“The family next to me probably ordered lamb cutlets, the sods”
Naw. More likely they’re bloody Vegan.
“what’s the thing in the tub behind the Desperados ?”
Tub? That sunlight’s blinding you again, innit?
Cheers
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From gorgeous Yorkshire to …Wales. I’ve only been to Newport, Swansea (twice!) and Cardiff for the cup final, but I assume the whole country is like those city gems.
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Would you assume that the whole of Yorkshire was like Sheffield, Dewsbury, and Doncaster, if you had only visited those, Morten?
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Probably.
The natives are generous, friendly and open minded and the beer above reproach throughout.
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Doncaster Bus Station encapsulates the spirit of Yorkshire perfectly.
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Yes, you’d be mistaken Morten !
Add Wrexham, Rhyl. Conwy, Llandudno and Hay to that itinerary and you’re still only scratching the surface. 🏴
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That old Buckleys sign reminds me that The Reverend James Buckley was Martin’s great grandfather, not Retired Martin but HPH Martin of Crewe.
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You don’t see enough pub lanterns nowadays!
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I can’t pretend to understand the full context of “Before it all went wrong” but it made me chuckle all the same!
Happy memories of a day or two in Anglesey back in 1993. Can’t say I fully understood back then the degree to which Wales is an entirely different culture from England. Kind of wish I’d got to know the place better, but I was young and foolish. Now, of course, I have changed and am no longer young. 😉
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It’s a funny thing, and it’s hard to say it without appearing a bit dismissive, but pub culture in Wales is definitely different from that in England. This is true even in the border areas and the industrial south,not just “Welsh Wales”. Hard to put your finger on quite what, though.
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Definitely a culture thing. We get that over here somewhat along the border of Ontario and Quebec. Totally different atmosphere in the bars. 🙂
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Do Quebecans take their moose to the pub?
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Arsenal are a small London soccer team who got ideas above their station when George “1 nil” Graham became their manager in the late 80s.
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