Wednesday night in Worthing. Another 25 minute slog from the Cricketers to the Fox & Finch.
BRAPA would have taken a taxi, but then he’s made of money. Or Colin is.
The first Worthing micro of the night. The town has the best of the breed, and the worst. That’s why I rarely lump 2 pubs into the same post.
The Fox & Finch, across the road from the mock Tudor majesty of the Thomas A Becket,
a typical looking micro, but was rather wonderful
People make pubs, not beer lists or bottled sours, and the Fox & Finch was friendly and homely.
OK, retiredmartin Towers doesn’t have planes dangling from the ceilings (yet) or paintings of kittens and purists will balk at the cushions, but a “Bass for men” beer mat works for me, and the Pompey beer was cool and clean and gorgeous, a rare NBSS 4.
But it was the loos I chose to comment on as I left, suddenly conscious I’d left my beloved for more than 3 hours already due to late train running.
“Love your loos !” I said, far too enthusiastically as I plonked the glass back on the bar.
“Er, thanks” replied the landlady.
And then to West Worthing, and then, where ?
Oooh, Angmering sounds fun.