Not much photographic evidence of the Railway in Newtown , but with the very best pubs you rarely stop for photos.
I checked in at Newtown’s Gro Guest House, the best of the year. And not just for the teddies.
Yes, a teddy bear fanatic.
21 minutes to the station, 21 minutes till the train, enough to see if the Railway has survived the death of the wonderful landlady.
I doubted it, to be honest.
But I can’t resist a pub with a Carling sign and Old Boy sneaking in.
A younger barmaid greeted me. I looked for Worthy (it wasn’t selling, apparently) and spotted Bass.
I must tell the Truth. This was better Bass than Plymouth.
“What happened to the Landlord” I asked, learning of the good lady’s death.
“He’s there, drinking” said the bloke next to me who turned out to be a font of pubby Powys knowledge.
Irreverent humour, Old Blokes moaning about tea, beautiful Bass.
I can’t explain, as Townsend wrote and Daltrey sang.
But the Railway is, remarkably, better than an ever, and is probably the best pub you’ve never been to.
But what do I know?