Back to Plymouth from Totnes in time for a nightcap and Chinese takeaway from Lee’s (NCTSS 3.5) on a baking Thursday night.
First a little stroll up Notte Street and the vast University District, which seems to be doing a grand job of preserving double entendre and fun pubs.
I think I walked past four pubs with “Firkin” on the sign. Surely not all relics of the Bruce empire?
Away from the Barbican you can enjoy a 3 in a row of Walkabout, Yates, and Spoons for your Wu Wus. Which is great if you’re feeling homesick for Milton Keynes.
My next new Plymouth tick was the quaintly named “Pub on the Hoe“. I think the Hoe is a national treasure, you know.
Drake stands, glaring at the drunken debauchery in the Dolphin.
Japanese tourists, always the best gauge of how good a place is, throng the Promenade, entranced by a sunset as good as anything you’ll find in Ramsey.
The eponymous Pub is a little more workmanlike, with seating on the pavement.
But the 30 somethings have turned it into their own private Ibiza, and anything goes.
TV screens, grazing platters, confusing floor levels.
And no Doom Bar.
A bloke at the bar was refused service and got the hump, a cheery group of Marines turned noise levels up a notch, I took my frankly excellent Dartmoor IPA (3.5) for a quiet lie down in front of the tennis.
Only so much bare leg you can stand, so a wander down to the Dolphin revealed tonight’s busker playing Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Reader, quite how I resisted the Bass is still being studied at Plymouth University.