No idea what it means, but one of you will.
Incidentally, I saw a version of my blog translated into German last week and it made me sound really scary. “Schneller ! Schneller ! Setz dich !” etc etc.
Anyway, this is Zummerzet in Zummer, so less scary than Nathan Lyon.
Except that I was on the heritage train which is what passes for public transport down here, and now Tom Irvin will ask me about 3/4 gauge and pistons. Photos tomorrow.
Here’s a photo of Watchet from a blimp.
Watchet had been on my list for years, with two GBG pubs a rare luxury in Somserset and Devon. And it’s a seaside town, so potentially full of drunks.
I joined the queue for Pebbles, before this lot realised it said “Busk Stop” not “Bus Stop”.
Well, this is colourful. Bit like entering the Fez in Margate but without the Best of Hall & Oates playing.
A very particular sort of drinking establishment, with an unexpected cask line-up. Pumps for show, as the Tim Taylors came from the barrel.
“Don’t see that much round here” I said, feebly, as if I had a clue what locals drink (Thatchers mainly).
It’s a cider pub, really, but it’s always worth applying the Landlord test.
Ignoring the dreadful seats along the side I took my rather showy OS map and pint of Landlord to the table with a Bass beermat.
1930s show tunes, a Landlord that had clearly been settling in the cellar for more than a couple of days (NBSS 3.5, better than at GBBF) and about as good an atmosphere as pubs get, even if no-one came in and fell over.
But it’s the toilet you want to see, isn’t it ? It’s classy.