Now, that is a beautiful shot out to Hadrian’s Wall (aka the Scottish Border) from pretty much the same spot I sat in 18 months later. His photos have become really good, often better on the 6th pint than the 1st.
Like Simon, Mrs RM and I walked* the tarmacked B6318 on to Once Brewed, our destination for the rest of the day.
We could have walked a few miles further, I guess, but the Twice Brewed Inn was going the be the highlight of the trip, (at least according to the Visa receipt I’ve just seen).
It’s the Beacon Hotel, or the Flower Pots, of the North, a venerated brew pub that EVERYONE knows.
A lovely unchanging hostelry, or so I remembered from a couple of visits in previous decades.
Ah, how quaint !
Makes a change from those barrels dispensing dog ale.
Inside, once checked in (it took AGES), my path to the bar is severely restricted by greeters and barriers and directional signs, but it looks a bit “National Park Cafe” than I remember.
Despite standing in that spot, with free tables, I had to make a booking for a quick pint before we hit the town. It was all a bit of a fuss, but the homebrew was sensational, NBSS 4 stuff.
That one’s called, actually I haven’t a clue, as the waitress described it as “a pale one”. Being denied the God given right to
lick look at handpumps means you can’t see names or strengths or weirdness.
“Stop moaning !” said Mrs RM, predictably. She didn’t join me on the walk to the Steel Rigg, but was happy to nick my photos for her Facebook post later.
Worth the walk, both from Carlisle and from the Twice Brewed, of which more shortly.
*After that the little cheat got a taxi, but I’ll let him off that as he’s a professional ticker.