A year ago I had my last pint in a Proper Pub, without check-in, sit down, follow arrows and the horror of table service.
Days before I’d been in Milton Keynes Spoons at 10pm, where I sensed we were at the end of “normality”, if normality and Milton Keynes can ever really be used in the same sentence.
Makes you nostalgic for the days of blokes in suits and girls in Nike jackets drinking vertically together, huh ?
Sunday the 15th saw a night in Bewdley that allowed me to complete Worcestershire and use my pink marker for the last time in four months.
There’s not much reference to Covid on my blog to that point, but the photos reveal a descent into madness;
“Cheers mate. Nice to have you” said the barman in the Bewdley Tap, and I knew he meant it.
My heart wasn’t in it though, and I felt a bit sad about what Bewdley Brewery and the rest of the town’s fine pubs were almost inevitably about to face.
The final pub was a new Black Country pub that was typically lovely and untypically quiet.
Here the barman politely pursued me for an underpayment of 5p (my mental maths) that cheered me immensely.
On the way home I stopped for coffee in a deserted Worcester, and now wished I’d stopped here;
And then, a week before the official Lockdown, I packed it all in.