I see young BRAPA is back in Cornwall, no doubt whining about the rain and justifying his use of taxis.
No such problem for me in another smart dining pub tantalisingly out of range of the average P. Docker.
Cosheston is situated on an inlet of the Daugleddau estuary, says Wiki, which is easy for it to say.
Not many people walk here, I’ll wager. The pashmina set miss out on some of the highest hedges outside of South Somerset.
Access by dinghy is a bit challenging at the moment, but this week’s rain should sort that out.
The one thing you can guarantee about a pub called the Brewery Inn is that it won’t have a brewery. It’s the law.
The foliage gives away a lot too.
Restaurant to the left, bar to the right.
“Can I HELP you sir” says a man who appears from nowhere to impede my progress.
I’m obviously supposed to say “Table for 2, retiredmartin” rather than
“Sorry to intrude I was hoping I could possibly get a beer“.
I know Simon gets that as well.
The two gents running the place were charming, and I warmed to the genteel atmosphere even if it did remind me a bit of Stockport’s Arden Arms.
What could be better than watching Owen Jones accompanied by a decent NBSS 3.5 drop of Rev James in an elegant glass. Not much.
Well, only the first Norah Jones CD. Switched to silent.
retiredmartin 
Even when we eat in so called “dining ” pubs ,we like to choose our own table & order from the bar at our leisure -been caught a couple of times with table service & a service charge which is traumatic to a tight Tyke.Sometimes we are too polite to say no
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Definition of trauma for me too 👍
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Yes, and when Mrs TSM and I go to a pub for something to eat there’s nothing annoys me more than, within five minutes of walking through the door, being asked “would you like to start a tab?”. “NO” is my emphatic answer as I pay for my beer and her pop each time I go the bar and I pay for the food either beforehand or afterwards, and that way there’s no chance of them adding someone else’s drinks or another course onto the bill.
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Indeed. Pay when you order.
And if it’s rubbish, don’t go back.
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Or pay when you’ve finished.
And if it’s rubbish you don’t.
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Much as I love the countryside, I do hate driving – or walking – down lanes like that.
Champion campion shot though, Martin
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Rather walk it than drive it 👍
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Yes, when pushed, I’d rather hide in a hedge than reverse for half-a-mile too.
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I had no idea what campion was until a minute ago.
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It’s the finest shade of pink that you’ll ever see.
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Before my failed knees cut short my working I spent ten years driving round lanes like that every working day.
After not very long I was used to them.
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“did remind me a bit of Stockport’s Arden Arms”
but no nice little room behind the servery
and no pin of Old Tom on the bar.
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Looks more like James Brokenshire than Owen Jones to me young Martin.
He’s deffo not a whiney tosser.
I do like a drop of Rev James.If kept well it’s a lovely beer.
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Yes, I was just thinking that. Must have had Owen on just before as I always make a note when he’s on the telly.
Glad your eyesight is holding up 😊
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Nah, Prof. He’s just another lying feckarse 😉
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I can think of few things worse than watching Owen Jones – ashamed to say he’s a native of Stockport 😦
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Is HE responsible for the loss of the Tiviot. I think not.
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He never went in it. Use it or lose it 😛
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Well, here we are then:
Now, he’s probably not my favourite TV personality, but given the choice between watching that and, say, hitting my thumb with a lump hammer, I don’t think that I’d struggle that much.
Would some people really?
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I must admit to never having heard of Owen Jones but that’s because I very rarely watch television.
It’s surely a bad sign that in that interview Tim had a tea or coffee rather than drink his own beer.
And his “childish” accusation reminded me of when old friend in Partridge Green was losing an argument.
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Tim reputed to be an Abbot Ale fan.
Maybe Tim has noted that RM drinks coffee in his branches and has decided to follow.
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Yes, Tim Martin following Retired Martin, quite likely.
Or the Abbot wasn’t drinking well that day.
we may never know.
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RM kept quiet that TM is his brother/nephew/cousin [delete as appropriate] ???
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“If something comes jump in the hedge”
Yes, but what if it’s two cars that meet?
“but this week’s rain should sort that out.”
Send some of that my way. I live barely a mile from the ocean and we can only water our lawns for a few hours on Monday, Wednesday and Saturday.
“Perfectly curated foliage”
Ooooh, careful! It could be due to many folks pouring their cask ales on it. 🙂
“No idea, know you, no idea”
Soul Train and Reverend James. I’m sensing a theme.
“Elegant”
Indeed.
“Foamy”
Yes, we know it’s for you dear boy. 😉
Cheers
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Beer names in Wales can be a bit “chapel”. During rugby tournaments they have “Bread Of Heaven” too, Russ.
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“Yes, but what if it’s two cars that meet?”
Most car drivers are competent enough at reversing.
The fun comes when it’s a big tractor, driven by a lad just over from Poland, and a bus, which is not permitted to reverse with passengers on board. Unlike the usual herd of cows or herd of sheep that’s a proper delay that could cause me to reverse for a four mile detour. Urban drivers don’t know they’re born.
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What happens when two full buses meet?
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That can’t happen as It’s one bus that does the journey in both directions twice a day.
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There you go, with your logic and facts again, Paul…
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Etu,
A couple more facts then.
It’s about 16½ miles between Wolverhampton and Stafford so a train can be a thirteen minute journey and it could be cycled in just over an hour but the 877 bus – with going via Brewood ( pronounced Brood ) and Church Eaton ( pronounced Church Eaton ) – is a ninety-five minute journey.
I would most often see one passenger on the 877, and never more than half a dozen, but occasionally it would be a proper old double decker bus trundling along the narrow lanes – at least the tractor drivers could see it coming !
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I once made the mistake of catching a bus with “Leeds” on the front from a Yorkshire village to Leeds. I asked the driver how much. He said he didn’t know. I asked why. He said no one had ever done it before. Forty-five minutes later, I could still see my starting point, from a hill in the next village…took about three hours to do thirteen miles as the crow flies.
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So a Yorkshire bus driver had never known of anyone wanting to go to Leeds ?
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Oh, and I’m surprised P P-T hasn’t told us about the bus driver that pulled out to avoid a pram.
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Not from where I was getting on, no. And neither had any of the other passengers who looked at me very curiously.
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Is it me, or are Box Steam Brewery beers turning up in strange places far from Wiltshire? I live in an adjacent county and never see them on the bar in my neck of the woods.
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Beermats suggest a lingering sense of proper pubbery 👍
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