More places you’ve never heard of, this time a gorgeous little village of 901 with TWO (2) GBG on either side of the road.
Kirkoswald is in the heart of the Eden Valley (aka Lake District-lite), where apparently I have relatives, possibly in the Waterbeach rather than legal sense of the world.
The only bit of the empty mass between Carlisle and Penrith I’d been to before this week was Armathwaite (arma-twit) and that had a particular “other-worldly” feel that Kirkoswald has too.
17:30, not a soul about. But there’s a light on in the two pubs (sadly the residents of the former Black Bull have kept their sign up to taunt us too).
Half the village are in the Crown.
“Ownership – ALL” says WhatPub, and the crowd gives the impression of a Community pub, with a 4 year old at the bar entertaining locals.
I like children in pubs; it’s the regulars sitting at the bar that never makes me feel really welcome, and service is a bit perfunctory if I’m honest. Which I am.
Proper beer range though.
There’s a lot of table reservations, too. I ignore them all.
The Banks’s is creamy and decent, a solid NBSS 3 leaving tantalising lacings.
“The Brownies are a blatant paedophile breeding ground” says a Geordie at the bar.
“Shhhh” says the Mum of the 4 year old.
“Am I wrong ?”
You get the idea. A Proper Pub, but time to cross the road.
I take my glass back and say “Thanks”. Not a word.