Two days in Cardiff to tackle that tricky bit of Glamorgan I always struggle with.
But first, a hattrick in the capital, from a base at a contender for Best Premier Inn in Wales.
Not because the Premier Inn Cardiff Central South is in any way different from their 537 other models, but you get free parking, a 10 minute walk to town and the station, and easy access to 3 health clubs, a Jewsons and a Toolstation, all of which are totally useless to me.
The stroll to the Central Bar takes you through studentville,
and this artwork, which I’m fairly sure is something to do with the illuminati running Splott Parish Council.
This area is what we used to call “gritty”,
with the jewel in the crown the Vulcan.
The Vulcan was to Cardiff what the Laurieston is to Glasgow (or the Charlie Chaplin was to the Elephant & Castle if I’m honest), that “was” telling you that the pub closed a decade ago and is still being rebuilt brick-by-brick at St Fagans, where pashminas from Cowbridge will ask what wines it sells.
Still, lose a classic boozer, gain a Spoons. Cardiff has many Spoons, including a new GBG entry just off Queen Street.
No service at the bar, order by app, so I get my 60p half of Ruddles delivered by hand which must be safer I guess ?
The Central Bar is practically full at 5pm, in contrast to everywhere else, so that’s something, and it’s (drum roll) a solid 3.5. Like Black Sheep, Ruddles is a reliable beer at £1.20 a pint. Watch how quality dips if it goes back to two quid.
That sign (top) says 1,021 pints of “ale” sold last week. With 5 pumps and 15 hours a day I make that just under two (2) pints sold an hour per beer. Treat stats with caution.
It had started to drizzle as I headed into Cathays, the Walkley of the South. Walkley isn’t campaigning for independence, perhaps because it already is independent due to the severity of our hills.
Despite the drizzle, I still stopped for the obligatory photo of the cans.
There’s always some old bloke behind me spoiling my photos, isn’t there ?