A lovely pub garden in bucolic Dorset countryside leading down to the river (for five points, name it),
and a pint of local Palmer’s finest served cool with a foamy head and lacings as enduring as the Very Rev Hedley Robert Burrows (1887 – 1983), late of this parish.
What joy !
And what could retiredmartin.com possibly be complaining about NOW ?
Well, I wanted to see inside, that’s what.
But instead I’m despatched to the garden to order my drink from the serving hatch, which is cute and all but still WRONG (even if techically correct).
To be honest, I doubt there’s much going on inside to write about, just colonels and their wives arguing about the bill. But I’ll never know. It’s like when you’re eight and you have to go to bed so parents can have a private conversation about your progress at school.
Sorry, getting distracted.
Anyway, lovely beer, New Inn. The best Copper since the rather more basic Oddfellows near the brewery with its collection of, er, coppers.
Still, foamy head, check.
LET ME BACK IN THE PUB !