Last tick of a thrilling day, a sixth (6th) in North Wales, and what is always a joyful return to Bangor. Even when Duncan insists we drink after midnight on Sunday.

Except it wasn’t. Due to Mrs RM’s punishing schedule, I didn’t go to Patrick’s Bar, which as you know is one of my favourite pubs on earth (even when there’s no Bass). Sorry Patrick.

No, it was “Get in, get tick, get out” while Mrs RM had a phone call about bank reconciliation with a Portuguese project manager (in English). We are so multicultural.

Bangor looked a little like, er, Bangor, just a bit quieter than you’d hope. Do the students all go on nights out to Caernarfon or Conwy these days ?

Obviously students go to Patrick’s and the Belle Vue and the Spoons, but I’d welcome reports from my more mature readers on The Albion (“simple rooms”, Hobgoblin),

and the Feral Cat, apparently upgraded from the Fat Cat where it served me Boddington’s Bitter as last as 1996. What a year that was.

I like Bangor, and there’s plenty of cask, some of it in one pump pubs. Once I finish the GBG I might visit all the pubs in Bangor, and will do Patrick’s twice.

Anyway, enough of the future, here’s your Bangor highlights.

A reminder that Kyffin is the friendly dragon that only eats Englishmen who ask for tasters.

But where IS the Blue Sky Cafe ?

Tucked down an alley off the High Street, hidden away like that Pilchard in St Ives.

How exciting. A cafe-cum-arts centre-cum-crafty bar.

Lots over the magic Boy’s Bitter level of 6.6%, but where’s the cask ?

You don’t have any cask then ?” I ask, like the reviled anti-keg CAMRA Life Member I am.

Yes we do !” says the nice man, pointing at the Purple Moose over my head. I felt a fool, I really did.

It was foamy and tasty, but again I felt a fool for eschewing the 7.4% Llandudno Stout; it would have been cooler and crisper than the cask AND allowed me to upset Bill by spelling a Welsh town wrong.


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