You left me in Wellingborough, you sods, contemplating my fate in a second new Guide pub in an otherwise unremarkable Midlands town (don’t start arguing with me, it’s Midlands).
Would it be another 10 pump ale shrine like the Coach & Horses so beloved of Alan Winfield, a brewery tap selling undrinkable beers from a shed in Pytchley, or a Marstons 2-for-1 that had sneaked through the CAMRA GBG selection meeting unnoticed ?
Oooh, the Queen’s Head looks like a Normal Pub. Don’t see many of those.
Yes, very plain. I like that.
And beyond the hand sanitiser, bar codes and rope (yes, rope), I hear the sound of laughter (top). 3 blokes comparing their tea;
“Man alive, bread and butter pudding with vanilla custard, mmmm“
You don’t hear the phrase “Man alive” enough in pubs.
“Sit where you like” says the cheery AND efficient barmaid. Simon will give her an award she’ll fail to collect in person.
There’s a snack menu that seems to comprise “chips“, “cheesy chips” and “roast potatoes“, which sounds quite appealing after frogs legs in Luton.
But I stick to a pint of Landlord, chosen because the bloke on my right has one already.
Actually, he could have been drinking Stella in a Landlord glass, I guess, but it seemed a bit of an ale drinkers pub, albeit one with beers you’ve actually heard of (never catch on).
The Landlord was pretty good, cool and chewy (NBSS 3+), despite my notes saying “taste of tea”. But it’s Yorkshire tea, yeah ?
Going to the loo gives you a small window of opportunity to explore the pub (by accident), spread “R” and capture a pic of an old beer bottle for Stafford Paul.
And then I tried to find the exit, which I now assume CANNOT be the same door as the entrance, oh no.
Eventually the other Landlord drinker took pity on me and pointed to the door, rope and all, I came in through. Aneka Rice wouldn’t have coped with the challenge of getting in and out of pubs in 2020.