Next up a wholly unremarkable pub, rescued by an incident of customer segregation rarely seen these days.
A rare trip into Anglesey, and a sense of guilt as I shuttled past Patrick’s Bar on the mainland.
Anglesey always promises much but I must be missing out something as it seems to be an island of sheep and caravan sites.
And not even very attractive sheep.
Sadly the micropub on Puffin Island Duncan had told me about on 1 April was shut, so I headed straight to the Panton Arms in Pentraeth perhaps my first inland Anglesey tick.
It could be any roadside village pub in the East Midlands.
“No work clothes in the lounge” says the sign. I only have one style of clothes these days, and it’s not workwear. Anyway, the lounge is filling up with drinkers at the bar and Christmas diners.
The beer range appears to be cider, Proper Job, and an unnamed local beer served via vintage telephone.
I go for the Black Sheep. Someone else does too; I am a leader of men.
The lunch menu, marked on a blackboard, looks promisingly unfussy. “Ham in parsley sauce with mash and veg £10.95“.
I look for a seat, but they’re all reserved apart from a raised area from which I can see nothing of the bar.
“Can I sit in the public bar please ?, I feel left out”
The lady has an apologetic expression.
“It’s the local Rugby team in there, they’re all loud and sweary.”
“I don’t mind loud and sweary elves”
I thought she was going to make me sign a disclaimer.
“If they don’t mind me, I don’t mind them !”
Great elves, top sweary banter (in Welsh), decent Proper food.
Elves mainly drink Malibu and milk, it seems.
My Black Sheep was superb (see awards issue). Odd lacings. But it is Anglesey.