No idea what that Squid Games art decorating the wall of the Northern Way in Preston is about, but it’s rather impressive.
But I decided that with 40 minutes in town before the train home I was better off in a Proper Proud Preston Pub, and what more proper than a Spoons ?
The Greyfriar is one of my favourite Spoons; a window on the world, a window to the soul, a cheap pizza and top pint of Abbot (NBSS 3.5+).
Actually, adorned with a multitude of toppings (sadly no pineapple) it’s an exceptionally light and crispy pizza. I believe Neapolitans come here just to sample it.
Preston is a city best enjoyed at dusk,
the ten minutes from Spoons to station tempting you with some of England’s great pubs.
Resist ! Resist !
Unbelievably there are some Lancastrians still to fall fall for Preston’s charms.
This is going to be a challenging year, with quite a few connections in Preston while I attack my remaining Cumbrian ticks.
I mean, how DO you resist the Old Vic.
But I did.
I spent last week in Largs, pretty much living on Spoons pizzas and very good they are. I can recommend the haggis one.
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You’re still in haggis shooting season up there ?
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Nae wild haggis in Shetland, too windy. Down south, the season ends on Boris Johnson’s birthday.
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The season ends when you bag a wild Boris Johnson (is there any other kind?). Just keep banging away until you get him. The shout of “Cripes!” indicates a hit, but not necessarily a fatal one. Just keep on banging away.
It’s not compulsory to eat the remains, but just to be on the safe side, minced and stuffed in a sheep’s stomach is the traditional recipe.
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