It was, of course, spectacularly kind of Pubmeister to taxi me around his own patch on my Scottish West Coaster, and Bing Maps reveals he drove 3 hours to help me make this a Ten Tick Tuesday. And his driving is certainly better than BRAPA’s.

The only downside is the tinge of guilt I felt, leaving him in the car listening to Shostakovitch* and reading Moth Monthly.

Five more for you now, one of which is a bit of a Scottish legend (just like Duncan).


Speaking of legs, Duncan has asked that I avoid shots of his famous knees after the court case the last time.

First up, just across the A737 and past Barcraigs Reservoirs, lies the Uplawmoor Hotel.

Never trust a pub with a coffee sign outside

You’ll know I like to provide you with the essential cultural attractions in the places I visit.  Well, Uplawmoor has whooper swans at Loch Libo.

Not much whooping inside, despite the encouragement to toddlers to play in the bar area.  I like that.  But I resisted the toy trains.


The main item of note was a mini assault course to get to the pumps, carefully constructed by placing the bar stools in the daftest place.

Why ?

£125 for a double room tonight, or £2 for a decent half of Kelburn (unless you’re an Australian sports reporter) in one of those tastefully modernised upmarket hotels that dominate the GBG along with Spoons.

Cold but tasty NBSS 3 (not the Salty Dog)

Into the Glaswegian suburbs, and the rather gorgeous looking Cross Stobs Inn.

“They’re coming ! Pull that cask through !”

Being kind, it has dark wood and knickerbocker glories (not shown), a Scottish speciality.


On the other, the lady who eventually served me after five minutes at the bar was clearly more interested in the preparation of the knickerbocker glory than the £2 for a half of tepid Kelburn (NBSS 1).

Oh dear

It was the worst beer since that Mamma Meerkat in Dorchester, and I definitely left it.  Goodness knows where.

Now it gets exciting, as we leave behind the venerable old coaching inns and head for the indoor ski slopes at Renfrew Shopping Centre.  If this is your introduction to Renfrew, you may be a bit disappointed, though there is a Denny’s at the roundabout.

The Milton Keynes of the North

What can I say about The Lord of the Isles ?

Yes, it’s really Milton Keynes, isn’t it ?

But. But. But.


£1.75, or £1.25 to those of us who love cask, for a thin but tasty NBSS 3 pint of “fake” Plum Porter for St Peter’s.  Duncan looked on, horrified, fearing emergency loo stops on the hard shoulder of the M8.

Then the real drama, as Duncan attempted to drop me within sprinting distance of Glasgow Airport without incurring a parking charge. A man after my own heart.

Paisley’s airport Spoons is landside, of course, but Duncan’s exemplary directions (“cross at the Holiday Inn, left at Body Shop, up the down escalator, can’t miss it“), got lost in translation.

Seeing a Spoons up the stairs, I sprinted up and suddenly found myself in the queue for the TUI to Ibiza, which as you know has no entries in the Guide.

So down the up escalator, as Duncan said, and the tiny Sandpiper, little more than café size.

Don’t take photos while running

Five pumps, three of them the same one from Arbroath.


With Duncan waiting for me on the runway, I necked a half in 30 seconds, slow by Mrs RM standards.  Cool, rich, tasty, NBSS 3.5.  Deserves its GBG place despite the hassle, and still your best bet for a 5am pint in Paisley.

Duncan seemed disappointed I hadn’t brought him back some rock from Ibiza.

And so to the famous one, the Fox & Hounds in Houston, a pub that’s been taunting me every GBG launch for 20 years.

Sandbags at the doors
Scene from Finding Nemo

I thought it was wonderful. Rambling, smart but still pubby, and with the beer of the night from Kelburn.

You even get a picture of Duncan’s knee.


Ten in a day is plenty, folks.


*The 10th, obvs.


  1. Wow this really was an interesting one– I swear the GBG people put an airport pub into the book just to through a challenge your way!

    Nice to see St. Peters on the bar; I’ve had their bottled beer a few times, as there was a shop here in Michigan that had them for a while (need to get back over there to see if they still do). Not sure of St Peters’s reputation among UK beer fans, but I award them points for having made the effort to get their beers into the US market– not an easy task, I must assume.


  2. “listening to Shostakovitch* ”

    It sounds like I’m related to that. 😉

    “Duncan has asked that I avoid shots of his famous knees after the court case the last time.”

    Photoshop in Si’s wonky knee instead. 🙂

    “But I resisted the toy trains.”

    Never pull a train in a pub.

    “Why ?”

    Make more sense if they were bloody stackable.

    “They’re coming ! Pull that cask through !”

    Or lock the doors and pretend they keep micro hours. 🙂

    “and knickerbocker glories (not shown),”

    Because… that would involve Duncan’s knees?

    “Goodness knows where.”

    In someone’s knickerbockers?

    “though there is a Denny’s at the roundabout.”

    Wait… is the roundabout inside the shopping centre?

    “Yes, it’s really Milton Keynes, isn’t it ?”

    It’s the palm frond plants that give it away.

    “pint of “fake” Plum Porter ”

    (slow golf clap)

    “fearing emergency loo stops on the hard shoulder of the M8.”

    Depends are your friend. Either that or nick one of the jam jars for use in the car.

    “as Duncan attempted to drop me within sprinting distance of Glasgow Airport without incurring a parking charge”

    He could have tried to imitate Hunter S. Thompson and drive you right onto the runway to grab your flight.

    “Don’t take photos while running”

    Safer than scissors though.

    “three of them the same one from Arbroath.”

    At least they were priced the same. 😉

    “You even get a picture of Duncan’s knee.”

    Naw. That’s a photoshop fer sure.

    “Ten in a day is plenty, folks.”

    Alan would’ve begged to differ.



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