And we’re off !
Seven pubs to tick on Merseyside, presumably all micros, and a chance to reacquaint myself with the Sefton coast, which isn’t short of pubs. Or golf courses. Or wine bars. Or pizzerias.
I’d forgotten that all Merseyrail trams have a mandatory rule that customers carry a can of G & T at all times, it replaced the mandatory face mask last Monday.
Roughly 300 scallies jumped off at Formby, heading for the sand dunes armed with buckets of spades and bottles of Staraopramen, and I suddenly realised.
“I’ve never been to Formby”. Just like Charlene on her overlooked 1982 follow-up.
Talking of cutting edge music, the ukulele king took his stage name from here. You think I made that up buy I didn’t.
Coincidentally, cleaning windows of the big houses (think Radlett) is still the main economic activity here.
Two pubs in a town, albeit a dormitory town, I’d never seen before. Verily my cup runneth over. Which is why it’s always best to serve halves in a pint glass.
Anyway, here’s the Railway, the new micro tucked away from the station.
Oh. It’s an Ember Inn.
Nothing wrong with Ember, particularly when you have the joy of folk going in the wrong entrance and expert passive aggressive behaviour at the bar when the multiple lines start.
Yes queues are back and social distancing is dead. Masks cling on, interestingly.
It’s the dullest Ember since Milton Keynes, which was my last one, and there’s only one cask beer on I can see.
It’s Black Sheep, a cool chewy 3.5.
Old Boys look disappointed at the lack of homebrew. I’m enchanted. Keep it in the Guide.
And don’t put the Spoons in. I forgot to preemptively tick that one.