Congrats to Pub Curmudgeon, who identified my location from the scantest of information.
Some of you have asked for live blogging, so here I am, the worse for wear, eating halloumi and drinking Bays in Teignmouth Spoons.
It’s a poor way to end the night before I head back to my campervan parked for free on the prom,
but I’ll be laughing if it gets in GBG21, and to be honest it’s better beer than the other entries but I didn’t say that.
August may be gone but Teignmouth is partying like Covid has gone, and today’s 2988 cases are a statistical anomaly.
Plenty of young people on the pull or the piss. Are they all from Dawlish?
Not much of a view from table 40, between the disable loo (most disabilities are invisible, seemingly) and the bar.
I’d say it’s half full on a Sunday night, which is a good 100 punters.
I’d been hoping for Bass in the Ship, but instead it’s Bay’s (NBSS 3) and cider from Pontypridd, which I’m still waiting for.
Behind me, a group of Devon lasses are playing drinking games with shots. And people say Spoons aren’t proper pubs.
Ah, here’s the cider.
Don’t wake me up.