Here’s the Oxon map you were denied because I’ve had to do recent posts on the phone. When I self-publish my book “Blogging – How to get views from East Timor AND East Grinstead“, my only advice will be “DON’T write posts on your phone“.
Benson lies just north of wonderful Wallingford, the most pubby of Oxon towns, and home to an RAF site that Mrs RM’s uncle Keith once took us to for tea and cakes.
The Crown looked a good place for tea and cakes, but not at 9pm on a Monday evening in winter.
Mrs RM sorted that parking charge, having sold her gold to fund the Late Payment, and left me to claim my county completion in the company of two shy gentlefolk sharing an elicit pudding,
and three young staff in full Hook Norton chequered outfits.
No custom after nine, three handpumps, recipe for cask disaster ?
Not at all. My celebratory Old Hooky a cool, fruity, foamy joy (NBSS 3.5). The renaissance of cask post-pandemic carries on unabated.
Two things to highlight in a gastropub promoting “Gin of the Week” and playing the tinkly polite music at that specific volume that defeats Shazam.
1) The truly dreadful bar frontage with “Hook Norton Brewing” on it. Stick to brewing, folks.
2) The energy and intelligence of the young bar staff, using their spare time to construct design ideas for the Crown to be submitted to Hooky HQ. One of them had been analysing the Hook Norton company accounts in astonishing detail to assess whether their redesign plans could be financed. It was the first, and last, time I will hear bar staff talk about liquid assets and cash reserves in a GBG pub.
Great to see a future generation of Certified Accountants right there.
Mrs RM was pressing “PAY” when I returned, then waited patiently as I applied the pink marker.
Then off to our hotel for a nightcap. It’s a smart one.