Our evening in delightful Dereham (hands off TIC, I’ve trademarked that) concludes with a return trip to your new favourite pub chain, now that Sam Smiths have gone upmarket.
I haven’t wrote much about the Covid impact on pubs of late, as quite honestly I’ve hardly noticed it, 46 pubs in.
Hand sanitiser, name and number, sit well apart and outside if you can, don’t lick the pump clips. Not hard, is it ?
The Red Lion impressed us greatly a year ago when it switched from “unprepossessing boozer” to “boozer” in the time it took United to go a goal down in the Camp Nou (not the New Camp, fool).
Without the football and with a slightly more mature crowd it reached Sam Smiths proportions, particularly when the Old Boys turned out to be chatty on almost every subject except the cask.
Taking a calculated risk that we wouldn’t get wheezed on if we stayed inside, I shouted “Landlord please, Charles” and too the premium seat.
“How much was it ?”
“Not bad for a pint”
“No, For a pint and a half”
It was good in The Cock, it was even crisper here (NBSS 3.5). Better glass too, obvs. We saw more wine than cask drunk, but that’s the sign of a Proper Pub.
I’ll leave you to work out the price differentials on TT’s finest two pubs yards apart in a small Norfolk market town (and remember the Cock had beer for £3.20 a pint).
The Town Crier banged the gong to signal Curry Time.
I’m afraid we both had a bottle of Bangla, the beer of the night. It’s probably brewed in Keighley.