Simon liked that photo when I stuck it on Twitter a month ago, and BRAPA & Colin the Cauliflower are my target audience.

They understand what makes a pub great. Folk of all types standing around talking rubbish, a comfy seat, a cheery landlord, brown walls full of tat, a pint of drinkable beer.

All present in The Farmers in St Ouen on Jersey’s north-west coast.

This is a shy little pub that doesn’t even register on Bing Maps, so you’ll have to believe me that it’s at the crossroads of the village where the 372 political posters meet.

And you’ll have to imagine my relief at reaching the pub having walked two (2) miles from The Tipsy on a road with no path or verge because I HATE BUSES.

I walked past this in 2014 and didn’t go in because it wasn’t in the GBG. How daft am I ? It even sold Bass back then.

Look what I could have had.

The Bass has gone (“Not had it for years, mate”), but they had the Liberation IPA that would turn out to be ubiquitous and they had a Golden Hour going on at 16:23. Twenty in, all midde-aged, ALL on pints.

Do you take cash ?” I asked.

I’ll take anything. If you had a pig under your arm I’d take it“.

He really did say that.

Dunno how many pints I’d give you for it though“.

It was great. Classic Rock from the Old Mudgie catalogue. And then Take That.

The Liberation was cool and chewy (NBSS 3.5+). I’m sure the landlord was keen to see my Untppd upload.

I didn’t want to leave, but a second pint would have been fatal to Mr Weak Bladder on the bus.

Which, of course, was running VERY late.

6 thoughts on “ME AND THE FARMERS

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