Pub 5 on the West London list, and getting tricky.
I’d asked in the Black Lion where Motspur Park was and just got shrugs.
Technically New Malden, whoever he is.
So I took the train to New Malded and walked, hoping for art.
With the greatest respect, it’s duller than Cheadle.
At least dusk made the station look interesting, but when a chicken run across a dual carriageway and a B & Q are your highlights you know not to expect too much of the pub at the end.
Actually the Earl Beatty, right outside Motspur Station, could have been worse.
The Iron Maiden flag in the upstairs bedroom was clearly a cry for help.
Open plan Greene King diner again, filling up with afterwork boozers (if you finish work at 4).
But this one had a pleasing mix of dads and lads, all agog at the news of the loss of Bob Willis. We’ve never seemed more mortal.
I cheered myself up, a bit, with the Rocking Rudolph.
What a great beer. Or, if you’re here, what an OK beer.
But they had power sockets by the tables, and when your mobile is down to 16%, that is often the best thing you can say about a pub in South West London.
As the WiFi whirred into action, I saw I had 2 minutes to exit stage left and catch the next train to Earlsfield. I should have stayed and finished my pint.