Continuing the Wicker Man theme, that classic 1973 advert for the Scottish hospitality trade had its premier in Newton Stewart, possibly here;
But I can’t be bothered to check.
It looks a one street town, with a lovely bridge over the Cree and a range of tourist attractions mostly involving trees and authentic looking Indian meals at the “Belted Galloway Viisitor (sic) centre”.
Scotland has great rivers, you know. Just as well, as BRAPA will probably need to get to some of these places by canoe.
Smaller than Waterbeach, but with more pubs and hotels than the whole of the “Fen Edge” put together, I warmed to it as we searched for the Crown.
Inevitably, the Crown turned out to be duller than the bars with the big red “T”.
There seemed to be a public bar that was closed, so we had to make do with the dull rear of the dull dining room, where we were made to wait and ponder our choice of cutting-edge ale.
They were lovely, here, I’ll say that. But one sip of an oddly watery Hen (NBSS 1.5*) convinced me I’d made the right decision to do the driving today.
Mrs RM manfully (?) tried to finish it, and my coke, while listening to Annie Lennox wail “Why ?” in an otherwise deathly quiet sort-of-conservatory where gentlefolk ate fish and chips, wordlessly.
You can tell a great pub by whether it plays Dire Straits rather than Annie Lennox. Controversial, but true.
*I can’t wait to input all my NBSS scores.