Oooh, a poster for an event you haven’t quite missed yet. It’ll never catch on.
Next stop, Bishops Lydeard, which for the purpose of this post ONLY I’ve decided rhymes with herd or third. Tomorrow it can rhyme with fish if you want.
“Show us the trains, already” says the heritage bore.
Not only a picture, but also a whole 3 seconds of wholly unnecessary steam.
I spoil you on this blog.
Sadly, my new tick was one of those “Brewery Tap in a Shed” type things.
Quantock don’t have an attractive shell to work with, but they’re doing their best to bring in the young families who have mostly been noticeable by their absence in West Somerset.
I suppose if you’re a millenial dad who’s spent the best part of £100 entertaining toddlers on a slow train to nowhere you deserve a beer (only a half, mind).
And the Quantock Pale is cool, tasty and cheap.
But, Emily 1 and Emily 2 were very bored, and determined to ensure I couldn’t take any photos, and millenial dad got about 3 minutes of peace.
I found peace over the A358 (via the underpass) in the heart of the real Lydeard. It’s an underrated village.
I’d enjoyed the Bird In Hand just before I started this blog, but it’s just changed hands (though in Somerset “just” can mean a decade ago).
Half a dozen Old Boys and Gals sitting at the bar, all on pints. All said “Hello“.
I had time for a half of a pleasingly rich Butcombe (NBSS 3+) and ten minutes of peace.
It was Eli’s birthday.
“There’s nothing happy about a birthday once you reach 70”
There followed some discussion on the merits of blow-up dolls I’ll spare you.
Citra was to be the next guest beer.
“Oh dear, Citra”
“Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it”
“Yeah, live a little”
I was delighted to see the Women’s cricket from Brizzle being treated seriously “That spun”, “Great save”, “Come on Storm” before someone rather let the side down with “Cor, look at her !”
And over it all, Jack Russell stands, admiring a Proper Pub.
retiredmartin 
Are they remaking Thomas yet with a new character; a mischievous twild passenger called Simon?
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They’d have a ready supply of water for the engine, anyway!
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Ah, Thomas the paralytic tank engine.
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With the Butcombe at 3+, I wonder how a pint of the Rev James would have tasted.
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Similar you’d have hoped, though as the Landlady guessed what the next customer was having (it was the Rev) it’s possible that was going even quicker.
NBSS is a measure of the pub rather than the brewer, if course.
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Ooh, a proper pub with old boys (and girls) at the bar and beers I’ve heard of. It will never catch on 😀
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And cricket!
You’d love it.
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Here’s a conversation primer for you: Is the welcome we receive in a boozer in direct proportion to our age?
When I was in my idiot-boy late teens and larey 20’s, I don’t recall ever being welcomed as a stranger in a pub by anyone, least of all the locals at the bar. Nowadays it’s an almost daily occurrence. My recall is that young strangers were regarded with deep suspicion, particularly in the scuzzy Somerset village pubs I had a preference for. Presumably I’m much less threatening these days to the steady ti-toc of cider drinking and heavy afternoon Euchre sessions…
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When you’re young, other people (and not just other young people) judge you. When you’re older, they don’t. As I’ve written on my blog in the past:
“I can recall a handful of occasions when I was a speccy, geeky 20-something where I was barracked or made fun of in pubs. Generally I just kept quiet, drank my pint and left. Now I’m a speccy, geeky 50-something nobody seems too bothered – I just blur into the generality of older male pub customers.”
You might stand out in a high-end gastropub or trendy craft bar, though.
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I well remember that comment.
And yes, I seem to bland in, as it were, in any pub these days.
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As long as you’re not so bland at the bar as to be invisible, but that’s another discussion…
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I only started visiting pubs at age 30, bar the odd dining pub before then, so hard to compare, but I’m sure you’re right.
Just as I’m sure Scuzzy had a good GBG pub once.
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“only started visiting pubs at age 30” – so you’ve got some catching up to do !
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500 a year since then is 12,000 now.
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Which is probably about 11,950 more than most of the population.
Well done.
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What’s your total, Paul? The post-war total will do.
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I’ve no idea really but maybe, the part timer I am, about half of your total.
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I suppose you do occasionally go back to a pub you’ve already been to, Paul 😊
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I’d say it actually rhymes with either “billiard” or “Rudyard”. The former according to Wikipedia.
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“Not Thomas the Tank Engine, sadly” but those Manor class engines are what I remember on holiday from 1958 to 1965.
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A proper piece of pubbery
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