8th January 2020
Well folks, I’m writing this in the Sandringham Hotel in Weston-Super-Mare, and I’ve just been to the worst Wetherspoons in the country, which is more exciting than the biggest. Old Mudgie will know which one I mean.
Next up on my Thanet Thrust was Broadstairs, the national capital of Dickens tat. It’s lost its “airs” according to the OS.
Controversially, I’d place Broadstairs behind Magic Margate and Resplendent Ramsgate on my Thanet League Table, and you’d probably disagree with me.
Perhaps I just needed a sunny day like last Wednesday to appreciate it.
And a bag of lemon sherberts from Sweet Yesterdays. But remember folks, lemon sherberts can damage your NBSS scores and caution is advised.
Broadstairs had a good buzz on a cold January afternoon, the gentlefolk drawn by Dickens, micros and dog walking.
I had an energetic stroll over the rocks along Stone Bay, an early highlight of the new decade with its ancient graffiti.
I thought I’d found an undisclosed micro along East Cliff.
But sadly winter opening hours apply.
A nice steep climb back from the rocks into town. A lovely, rambling town of fraded reds and blues; full of antiques, Italian bistros and craft beer, just as it was when Dickens wrote Moby Dick here. Probably.
Dickens would have loved micropubs with all their funny characters.
GBG newbie Mind The Gap is two minutes from the station and I sense a theme here.
What can I tell you ? It keeps reliable opening hours, sells good beers you’ve heard of at £3 a pint, including an excellent Gadds 5 (NBSS 3.5).
The Landlady was a chatty gem, some regulars came in and said “Oooh, Hophead” and “Only a half, I’ve just had my breakfast” and “Hophead, not what it was, is it?”.
And there’s a sign that says “Trunks Only”. Just not that sort of trunks.
It’s just a bit “Our Mutual Friend”, rather than “Great Expectations”, if you know what I mean. Which you don’t.
But we’ll all pretend that we do.
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Just nod.
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Sagely.
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Which Dickens novel does BRAPA come from?
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Barnaby Rudge
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Sounds better than Marnaby Mudge
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I’m not sure if that makes him a poor simpleton, or a loquacious raven. Perhaps the latter is Martin the Owl? Although I now have a mental image of the entire populace of Newark gathered around a leaky effigy chanting “nevermore”.
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I was thinking the owl/raven and the constant sense of movement. Quite BRAPAesque to me.
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…but did you speak to Heather about the weather?
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Isn’t Heather the Weather from Paisley?
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Great expectations
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He is Startop.
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Great Expectations has less words than the latest BRAPA.
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So has War & Peace.
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Hard Times
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No it’s not.
The Hophead, that is.
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It wasn’t as good in the Evening Star the other month, that’s for sure.
The Doom Bar is as good as ever though, Citra.
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If it’s not good in the Evening Star it’s not good anywhere.
Fantastic news on the Doom Bar.
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I knew you’d be pleased. Planning a Beer and Pubs Day Out drinking Doom Bar on 1 April to annoy Discourse.
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Duncan looks well up for the fight.
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Duncan is ALWAYS up for the fight (and the flights).
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“I’ve just been to the worst Wetherspoons in the country” – oh, no, it’ll take me all day thinking through dozens of contenders to work out which venue holds that title.
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Not Wolves 😉
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Not difficult, given that he’s staying in Weston-super-Mare and there’s a choice of two. I agree with his verdict, btw. I can see that one being on the disposal list given that they now have a swanky new hotel on the sea front.
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Yes, you’ve mentioned it before!
Oddly, the beer and food were good. It was everything else.
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Is Hophead what it was? Just asking!
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Hi Paul,
Hophead didn’t seem much different to me this past couple of months, compared to memories of it from a couple of years go. So…it was what it once was. But consider the source!
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