retiredmartin

I’d always wanted to go to Bowness-on-Solway, but somehow it had avoided me. Its loss, I guess.

The Hadrian’s Wall walk starts here, rather than Carlisle, so I feel we cheated last year.

I was quite keen to walk a bit now, but Mrs RM declared it “much too cold*, bitter, ugh“, and since she was driving I knew my place.

You can see Annan across Bowness Wath; you can probably walk to it between the hours of 04:37 am and 05:26 am (check tide tables), but I’d done that pub before.

My target is the King’s Arms, which is reached via an assault course of odd animals.

Mrs RM gets in first and heads away from the folk already in the pub.

Why does she do that ? She knows I like to eavesdrop.

Still, by 13:30 the notional dining area is filling up with friends and families, all of whom asked “Have you booked a table ?” despite there being loads of tables free.

There’s a couple of beers from Great Corby, both OK (NBSS 3),

and a menu from which we choose the specials as you MUST always choose the “specials” otherwise they’ll stop doing them.

Thai fish cakes and chips, hearty food. Mrs RM is only eating one “heary” meal a day; I’m making no such concessions.

Now, I’m no fan of dogs, but this one was quite cute.

I gave him a chip, by accident.

A group of four youngish friends arrived from Glasson. The landlord enquired where they were staying.

“Oh. She borrowed my plate and never gave it back !” The visitors agreed to steal the plate under cover of darkness and return it to Bowness.

As their reward, the landlady agreed to open early to feed them if they came back, there being a dearth of dining options in Glasson itself. This is what it was like in the 1960s, folks.

It’s a lovely little pub, offering newspapers spread over the pool table,

many 40th birthday cards, and the UK’s emergency supplies of cranberry juice.

What more could you possibly want from a pub ?

“Do you fancy that walk now, Mrs RM ?“.

“NO”.

*It really wasn’t