There is (almost) nothing in life so good as an unexpectedly open pub door (only edged out by finding some uneaten crispy beef the next morning).
Not only was it open, but the door to the Dolocauthi Arms was bright red.
Yes, the National Trust-owned Dolaucothi invited me in. At 11:09 !
Mrs RM let me do this one myself, perhaps fearing I’d ask why they were closed on Thursday.
I strode to the bar.
“Er, hello” “Hello !”. There was no-one about. Perhaps they were mining the Bara Brith.
Oh, well, get the photos in, anyway.
VERY National Trust, with perhaps the most exciting dartboard placement of the week.
And then I heard the vaccum cleaner upstairs.
Standing at the bannister, I called, meekly “Hello ?”.
A minute later, a lady descended, looking worried.
“Any chance of a drink ?“
“I’m only helping out upstairs“.
“Oh, that’s a shame, the sign says open
and I’ve come all the way from Sheffield“.
Anyway, after a period of intense negotiation the lovely lady agreed to get me a drink.
“But I don’t know how to operate the card machine“. “I have exact cash !”.
The next hurdle came when I asked her to operate the hand pump.
“Ooh, I’ve never done that before“. Well, I talked her through, the way Ground Control talks through a passenger landing a pilot-less plane.
And she’ll no doubt delighted to know I rate her efforts NBSS 3.5, a lovely flat drop of Gower Gold (“I can’t put a head on the beer yet !”).
“I am ALLOWED to do this, aren’t I ?“