A lovely day today chatting American politics, obscure Scottish roads and curry with my 2019 Pub Man of the year and her husband.
Dave and I agreed (a rarity) than BRAPA’s blog is on an all-time low, and I admitted that I nick stuff freely off his blog because he’s too busy upgrading mascots to notice.
His recent post on gatecrashing a wake is a classic,
but he nicked that idea off me. I did that in 2018 (Middleton) and 2020 (Rowen), and even gatecrashed a Dulwich wedding in 2017. My book on the topic “Getting that tick, whatever it takes, gatecrashing pet baptisms, weddings and wakes” is available from Amazon via my webshop.
A second tick in Limekilns on the Firth of Forth allowed me the immense pleasure of getting a pint at a private event,
cos as Si notes “I believe pubs should be for everyone, as in PUBlic!” .
The Bruce Arms has no obvious sign of a wake as I enter right, but the 1950s crooning tunes, doilies, and everyone dressed in black, but that’s standard form for most pubs in Spalding, so how was I to know.
At the bar, a really lovely barperson whispers “It’s a wake, I’ll bring your beer out to you“.
And she does, and I apologise and she says “Don’t worry, they’re cool*”, which I doubt.
Having been banished outside, I can’t bring you many anecdotes about the wake, so here’s a chart of the Approaches to Finnart from the Gents.
*Unlike the beer (2.5)