Three glossy pubs safely ticked in central Brum. It was time for Perry Barr.
I decided to walk.
Now some folk have got scared walking north of glossy Brum to cosmopolitan Aston and Lozells, but I have zero self-awareness, as Mrs RM will tell you ad nauseum. I was quite safe walking round that city in Panama; the lad on the bike had a gun.
I mean, there’s worse underpasses in Newport, yeah ?
The street art is simple, but effective.
If anyone says this is Jason Lee they can get off my blog.
You can guess what happened after about 20 minutes.
Yes, I was desparate. Where’s untended scrubland when you need it.
All was schools, Caribbean takeaways, highrise and art.
Oh look, here’s a pub. Just in time.
Wouldn’t you know it, it’s the Barton Arms, heritage pub extraordinaire.
I remember standing at the bar clutching about £2 in coins.
I remember staring at the pumps and thinking
“What would Citra do ?”
And then I remember dashing for the ornate Gents,
What an extraordinary pub.
I must go back and have a drink. But not when Villa are playing,