“I DON’T GIVE TASTERS”

 

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a.k.a. Lynn lovelies.

I wanted to use “Kings of Lynn” as a title but Pubmeister beat me to it. His quite brilliant post also has the best lines and unmatchable photos, but if I didn’t do a piece I’d be doing Lynn (no-one apart from a royalist Scot would call it King’s Lynn) a disservice.

And you never know, her Majesty might want a guide to the best pubs when she visits from Sandringham.

Lynn
10 minutes drive for HM

40 minutes on the train from Waterbeach; about 3 days for Curry Charles from Dereham if he repeats this trip with me, and he should. Though I can’t vouch for Norfolk curry (except in Dereham, oddly).

I couldn’t really have vouched for Lynn as a pub destination either. The sole GBG entry is a workaday hotel bar opening at 6pm. Every day.

But Duncan isn’t called Duncan for nothing, and he’d uncovered a wealth of gems not in the Guide.  Perhaps not including this one across from the station.

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Design classic

I used to visit Lynn a few times a year, and throughout the 2000s had seen it lose its gloss as a result of a number of factors, not all of them originating in 2007.

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Relaunch it as Lord Kevin

Ten years ago it got a Canadian themed makeover that has at least ensured you can buy coffee and socks.

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Mmmm

But there’s still enough independent enterprise in the pedestrianised shopping street.   I got a new watch strap fitted for £6 while I perused the fish van.

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Seafood van

Even 4 seabass fillets for £12 (that’s cheap, Yanks) can’t guarantee busy shops, and the fantastic waterfront is only busy in the bits where it has coffee and cakes.

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The Custom House

Duncan had raved, sort of, about the Crown & Mitre. I’d never heard of it.

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Go on, ask about the lights

If the green light is on, it’s open, apparently.  All three lights were on.

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Traditional notices on the door

Duncan described the character of Landlord Roger beautifully.

The word ‘character’ can be a euphemism for many things. One of Roger’s is a penchant for sharing his political views with great vigour. It’s safe to say he doesn’t consider himself to be very European.”

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I suspect it is the right way up, for those of you who care

Comparisons are easy, and lazy, and pointless.  So I’ll say the Crown & Mitre is Norfolk’s answer to the Albion in Chester.

But it had better beer.

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Two is plenty

I feared the worst.  But both Elgoods seasonal and the Lincoln Imperial (?) were cool and rich and Beer Guide worthy (NBSS 3/3.5).

The pub grub was exactly what you expected, I’ll wager.

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Proper chips

There’s a lovely outdoor decking area from where you can enjoy the muddy Ouse.

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You’re safer swimming across, tbf

Roger has even provided binoculars (chained to the outside bar) so you can spot invading pub tickers.

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Don’t nick ’em

I ate indoors, so I had the benefits of Roger’s views on Beeching, our royalty (don’t ask) and “Witherspoons“.  Those of a nervous disposition need not apply.

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Misunderstood

But Roger is knocking out good beer and food in a characterful and well-run pub at the age of 76, which makes me look a right layabout.

And I warmed to him when an unsuspecting couple of gentlefolk came to the bar.

Oh. only 2 beers ?” said Mr Choosy.  Patient explanation re: matching beers to demand.

Can I have a taster then ?” said Mr Choosy.

Half or pint ?  We don’t do tasters.”   said Roger.

A pint’s a taster” I chipped in, unhelpfully.

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Mr Choosy

I bet even Her Majesty wouldn’t get samples.

 

25 thoughts on ““I DON’T GIVE TASTERS”

  1. This is great (whilst hastily disassociating myself from any royalist sympathies). To say Roger is a definite sort of person is an understatement – he makes Marmite look ambiguous. The food looks good pub grub. See you are saving the micro – it definitely deserves its own post too.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. I remember the Fox and Goose at Hebden Bridge, round about 2000, before it was a community-run affair. It had a sign by the bar which read “We do not serve ANY French produce”.

        A workmate remarked, that just as people with the kind of bodies which would be better concealed often tend towards naturism, those with the most offensive views also perhaps have a tendency to shove those in everyone’s faces too.

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      1. I have not seen Lynn. Need to remedy that miss. Oddly Wisbech and the Fens were of interest to me because of “Waterland”. Great novel.

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      2. Never heard of it, but being educated in the Fens we never had literature.

        I note the film was set in Pittsburgh, which makes me want to go there immediately and see if they have the fried chicken shops that define the Fens.

        Liked by 1 person

      3. “Waterland” is a great novel, although Graham Swift admitted that he’d never been to the Fens when he wrote it. Just shows what a bit of research and imagination can do…

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      4. I had not seen him comment on not having been there. For me, I felt like I had been in the Fens more after reading the book than after actually having visited! A comment that feels BRAPAesque.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. Delightful, especially the bit about Mr Choosy getting educated by the landlord– that must’ve made you very happy indeed.

    Thanks for linking to Duncan’s post. I’ve been bad about keeping up with his blog, but you’ve inspired me to bookmark it and make sure I stay up to date. (Also loved the line, “But Duncan isn’t called Duncan for nothing”, which doesn’t fully make sense to me, and yet I feel that I know exactly what you mean!)

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Having a light over the front door to signify it’s open, like the Dog Hangs Well in Ludlow, is a very good idea and could save BRAPA a couple of hundred yards over the course of a month.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Fortunately Miguel from the Crown Plaza LAX did do tasters when we arrived last night because at $11 a pint you’d want to be sure what you’re getting isn’t just the usual American IPA filth.
    The Oskar Blues Dale’s Pale Ale from Longmont,Colorado was excellent.
    And did we need all half dozen pints of it.
    The last four hours of our very long journey from Dublin to LA was enjoyed on a flight sat next to a screaming child.
    Not just screaming but with a mother seemingly unskilled in the art of pacifying a child and a knuckle-headed father sat with his headphones on oblivious to the growing rage of the entire cabin.
    Any parent will tell you the horrors of travelling with young children but FOUR.F*CKING.HOURS !!!
    Anyhow that was then and ahead lies a very large fried breakfast, picking up the rental car and heading north to the Emerald Triangle, Eureka and the Oregon coastal drive.
    Our loins are girded.

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