Trowbridge is to Wiltshire what Leigh is to Lancashire, or Haverhill to Essex.
But it was a joy, a JOY I tell you, to make a first trip back to the home of Ushers since we subjected our boys to the dodgiest Wetherspoons in the South a decade ago (bargain Curry Club, mind).
Even the indoor shopping centre looked smarter than I remember (I’m being very selective).
Very few holidaymakers visit, which makes puts a lot of pressure on me to find some reason for you to cancel your plans for Bath and Frome and do the ‘Trow, as the kidz call it.
This is the Town Hall, the most attractive building in town. It’s fenced off.
And this is the indoor market. Think of the potential !
And here’s your Guide entry.
So what does the King’s Arms have to allow it to join the Star and the Old Green Tree and the British Lion ?
free WiFi Doom Bar, of course. £3 Doom Bar, too, selling by the bucket load (not literally).
So why on earth I had a watery Butcombe (2.5) I’ll never know. It may have been the corrosive influence of “Nothing’s Gonna Stop Us Now“.
But it’s a gem, like a Craft Union pub with more women, food (an unexpected but untested homemade Lamb & Apricot Tagine) and a working coffee machine (two biscuits too !). Come to think of it, Trowbridge is a town version of Craft Union.
Lots of laughter, mainly from a group of gentlefolk seemingly getting into the swing of this living with Covid thing.
“I’d have Bob back, and I’d live in a shed at the bottom of the garden, and I’d never have a headache again” said a widow I’ll call Dora. One of the most surprising and moving things I’ve heard in a pub in years.
As we left, a bloke dropped his glass, but no-one cheered. Trowbridge is weird.