The journey deep into the Vale of Glamorgan continues, as I renew my acquaintance with Llantwit Major. There IS no Llantwit Minor, something that Sue Gray will be investigating later.
I feel like I’ve been to all the traditionally named Llantwit pubs now, and I’m not sure I could tell them apart under forensic questioning.
Checking the spreadsheet, the White Lion is the only one I haven’t done, and that has Doom Bar ! Come on VoG CAMRA, get it in GBG23.
Last time here I had one of the great pints of Doom Bar in the Rugby Club, which survives in the Guide, but the others have slipped out,
making way for the (Olde) White Hart, one of the longest pubs I’ve ever seen. I’m sure the end of that restaurant is actually in Lampeter.
Multiple entrances, multiple wrong doors to enter; any chance of multiple punters though ?
Well, there’s five customers in the bar, which leaves me just one huge table I’m obliged to sit at and wait the “taking of details”.
“And what can I get you ?“. I haven’t a clue, I’m 57 and can’t read the pump clips from here, so I pathetically say “the orange one“. Then, squinting “Crwr Gorglas ?”.
You’ll need stronger glasses, Mr retiredmartin“.
It’s OK, cool and a bit thin. Would score a 3 most places outside Sheffield.
Llantwit is a historic town, with a fantastic looking beach (pic: Jamie Trenchard, not me), and probably deserves thorough investigation.
But not by me. Not today.