Yes, it’s time to “clear Norfolk“, as us expert tickers say.
A first visit to Diss since the world was a simpler, happier place. Just beyond Star Wing, pleasingly. You’ll know you’ve arrived from the accents.
Now Diss is famous for two things. The sausage rolls at D.A, Browne & Son,
and the big pool of water in the centre of town that is The Mere.
Oh, and the famous “Boy with an 11mph volley” whose Peter Lorimer style antics at the top of St. Nicholas Street fell foul of the parish council last year.
St Nicholas is the star of a pleasant run of buildings in a pleasingly plain and useful High Street, which is bustling.
The word for the day is “Detailing“, which at least here is professional.
Your new Guide pub looks so striking you wonder how you missed it before, and what the Saracen’s Head has done to gain elevation to the Guide.
“Hello ! How are we ?” says the Landlady. Perhaps it’s the welcome.
It could be a range of 27 microbrews, but if so they’re well hid behind an unflattering sheet of perspex.
“It’s Wherry or Ghost Ship, if it’s the ales you’re after“. Can she tell I’m a CAMRA ?
Wherry, of course; that way you avoid the abomination of an Adnams glass.
Two blokes armed with Good Beer Guides come in and order halves of Ghost Ship and complain about the GBG App. I contemplate joining their conversation but it never pays to out yourself as a ticker.
The Landlady put the Wherry on the bar, walks through about 3 doors, collects the glass on the other side and moves it the six feet to my table.
“That’s clever” I say, for something to say.
I could have collected it myself but then the “R” rate would have increased by 0.00347 and that won’t do.
The Wherry is cool and foamy, and almost makes you remember when Wodfordes beers were as well-regarded as Titanic beers are now (NBSS 3.5).
Blokes come and go, the bulk of the trade is under cover in the garden, perhaps escaping the strains of “The Greatest Love of All“, perhaps keeping the swearing out of earshot of gentlefolk diners and sensitive tickers in the bar.
I loved it. Almost as much as the artisan sausage rolls, one of which made it home intact. Two didn’t.