These little posts are brought to you courtesy of the superior WiFi of the Brooklyn Hotel on 1199 Atlantic Avenue. So fast it’s typing up the next post as I write this one.
You left me walking back into Bradford-on-Avon towards my final Wilts tick, admiring the skyline and the stonework.
I had 12 minutes till the Stumble opened, it being a micro and all, so on a whim I headed uphill for the Rising Sun.
Note the hill. It gives great view, as Yankees say.
There’s a moment in everyone’s personal journey round a UK town you didn’t “get” when it suddenly “makes sense‘.
With Rhyl it was the sunset, with Mansfield it’s the relentless espresso culture, in B-O-A it was the vertiginous Conigre Hill.
I made the Rising Sun in a state of euphoria, having beaten Google Maps estimated time by 40%. #EasilyPleased.
This was one I didn’t warm to when it was in the Guide, feeling a bit cliquey (or clicky as they say on Trip Advisor).
Why had it dropped out the Guide? No idea, it looked a lifer.
But this time it was quieter, and friendlier.
“A half! You’ve walked all this way up the hill for a half!”
Said Guinness man.
Less ale choice (hurrah), less ale being drunk, but the Courage was back to GBG standard, I’ll say that.
Lovely pub, all of a sudden.
I decked my half in 27. 5 seconds (not BRAPA approved) took my glass back to the bar, and got a nod of acknowledgement somewhere between “Something we said?” and “Fare thee well stranger”.
Then bumbled down Conigre Hill to the Stumble, which at 7pm was finally awake.