retiredmartin

Having conquered the waterfalls (can you conquer a waterfall ?) we headed back north to our Wednesday stop in bucolic Builth Wells.

The B4520 linking Sennybridge and Builth must be one of the most under-pubbed parts of the country, bar the Pwllgloyw Arms with its “occasional real ale” tempter. I’ll be testing you on the pronunciation of Pwllgloyw later.

We finally met up with Duncan in Builth. He’d had a head start on us and described the town as “The Eighth Wonder of the World“*.

Unfortunately, he meant this Eighth Wonder, the most rubbish pop band in history;

Whatever happened to Patsy Kensit ? Oh, Jim Kerr.

A first new GBG pub in what seems like centuries had brought Duncan back to town, so he hadn’t seen the sights I noted in 2017.

In all honesty, it was worryingly quiet at 18:00 on a Wednesday in July, yet the accommodation had been full the night before (or £121, which is the same thing).

After leaving Mrs RM with the decent WiFi in the Firs B & B I headed out to tick.

Bloke with mobility scooter and huge beard drinking lager – Tick.

Floral displays and funny font – Tick.

Modernised ancient pub with Dudley Sports Bar feel and MTV on big screen – Tick.

Seat by the fireplace with chalkboard listing Covid rules – Tick.

Hole to climb through to reach unmapped micropub – Tick.

Yes, the Fountain wasn’t a classic, and the 6X (it was that or the Wye Valley seasonal) in a Doom Bar glass only just made the crucial NBSS 3 mark, but it photographs well, doesn’t it ?

To be fair, right at the end of the pint it started to taste like 6X, and it was cheap. Tick.

“Enter Sandman” gave way to “”No Scrubs” and then “A Little Time” and no-one came. Or left.

Right – now say Pwllgloyw.

*I’m fibbing.