I have an admission to make. I didn’t finish Northumberland last year.
Not sure I actually claimed I did, mind, but the Wallace Arms in Rowfoot/Featherstone/Haltwhitle/whateverit’scalled escaped me.
Not that remote, but the Wallace feels a different world to the glitz of Brampton and Haltwhistle.
Not sure which villages it serves, if any, and there’s no food bar the astonishing collection of snacks (no locusts, it’s not the Grove).
Just a boozer, albeit one with Sugared Cranberry hand lotion.
Not posh, but not an “alehouse” either. Eight locals, including a dad and lad, all chatting rubbish cheerily. It was great to just sit and listen.
Horse racing on the BBC, the badger cull, traffic jams (15 second delays on the B6318), all present and correct.
Some of the Manx stickers were from this year, I noted.
Plenty of Amstel, and Newcy Brown being sold, which meant the four casks weren’t flying out.
And there’s the slight dilemma with the Wallace. In a pub I was enjoying tremendously I was finding the River Catcher a bit thin, “3 at a push” I wrote, which probably means 2.5 if it had been a Brunning & Price.
But it’s not about the beer, is it ?