retiredmartin

A second pub for Mrs RM on the way home. I spoil that gal.

This one was a cracker, as was Godstone, a village directly off Junction 6 of the M25 that might persuade you that Surrey ain’t that bad.

If it hadnt been raining I’d have got Mrs RM to stand in the central reservation and take photos of the half-timbered houses. I’m all heart.

The pub is a mile south of town, just past Brown Clift Sanger Life Insurance Agency, who sound very exciting.

We brought the average age inside the Fox and Hounds down by 3.7 years, but to the credit none of the regulars were talking about life insurance.

Mrs RM grabbed the table by the fire, astonishingly not the largest fireplace in the pub.

There was a superbly handwritten menu with proper food and proper prices, but can it possibly be a Proper Pub?

Well, the Landlady said “Hello” and didn’t ask if I wanted a menu.

The Old Boy at the bar enquired about the drizzle and told me his beer was lovely, and there was just an absence of affectation.

And that’s good enough for me.

OK, there’s a few cushions on the benches, but at least they’re not patterned.

Having just berated the tasters at Pilgrim Brewery Tap, let the record show their Progress* was a stunning BBB. Cool, foamy, complex, 3.5+. The GBG wins.

OK, Mrs RM wasn’t switching back from keg to cask, but she wasn’t offering to drive me home either.

Music from Neil Diamond, crisps from Pipers, and an invitation from the Landlady to look at the restaurant.

So I did.

* I’ve only just realised why it’s called Progress.