Well, here it is, Number 39 on my Bucket List.
Dumbarton, once home of the Tand, a deeply mystical place cruelly overlooked by snobbish folk from Port Glasgow and Paisley and other pashmina towns.
Well, I can only assume my phone was misfunctioning as the only photos I seem to have are from the Wetherspoons. How sad is that ?
Perhaps only a pub ticker could get SO excited by a visit to Dumbarton, I dunno.
An attractive but once again quiet Spoons, with unusual sound muffling techniques.
and some pages from the Woolworths staff magazine that seem to have no relation to Woolworths until you remember where Spoons get their buildings from.
The chap at the bar was waiting for the head on the Old Speckled Hen to reach the required 3 inches, and I briefly considered Bury St Edmund’s second finest,
before seeing the Doom Bar for £1.10 (surely not 60p with Spoons voucher ?) but then panicking at the last moment and picking a beer whose brewer AND name are unpronounceable.
“£1.99 ? Are you made of money ?” you ask.
But CAMRA wants us to pay a fair price for our support of cask, so my voucher knocks that down to a more realistic £1.49.
Sadly, there’s more taste in the bubble than the beer, and while it’s certainly not “off” it’s definitely not “on”. No plant pots, so I leave it on the side, and begin a long journey back to Milgavie that ends with a you-know-what.
And when I wake, I’m still alive, and 57.