retiredmartin

Right, let’s finish That Worcestershire.

Look very closely and you’ll see the splodge covering Kidderminster is a lighter shade of pink (Procul Harum Outtakes, 1969) than the rest; that’s because the Bear & Wolf was the ONLY new GBG entry in this lovely county. That’s the sort of churn that has given us GBG tickers hope we can complete the 2022 Guide after the Covid affected GBG20 and GBG21 years.

I arrive in Kiddy just after Duncan has seen his brave Berkshire boys almost take the Harriers to a replay extra-time in the Cup, and find the modern shopping quarter near Premier Inn rather busier than the old town with its weary Spoons and tributes to acts that have played the Seven Stars over the years.

Presley’s gig was a secret show, rushed from Prestwick Airport to sing “Love Me Tender” and “Little Less Conversation (Remix)”.

Kiddy has some great pubs, but the heart of town isn’t the place to find them, and The Swan is the only place I’ve been where the police were called while I was there. No, it wasn’t Mrs RM asking for tasters.

So welcome to the Bear & Wolf (also known as Bear & Wolf says What Pub), even if it is a fairly typical Midlands micro-cum-ale house.

The welcome is wonderful. I stare aimlessly at the pumps and pick the one with a swan on, as it’s most local.

“Would you like a taster ?. 2 guys on it last night, one said it had “a twang”, the other drank six pints of it”.

“A pint’s a taster !” I said, confidently, flashing my Real Ale Twat membership card.

Actually, I should have had a taster. It was beautifully presented, but had a twang to it. Wish someone had told me. Does Ma Pardoe still brew it in Netherton ?

Another chap came in and asked for anything but Citra. “I don’t like Citra” he explained.

I like Citra, so does Simon, but to be honest his choice of Pomona was a good one.

It’s a lovely, friendly place, filled with music memorabilia and the threat of some homebrew called “Optimist”. Full marks for NOT being called “Hoptimist” then.

And that was that. Worcestershire whacked.

God bless Kidderminster, indeed.