Completing the Guide isn’t for everyone. Anyone (like me) with an innate fear of cute Cornish seaside towns full of MumsNetters complaining about hills will struggle, and I really had to choose my moment to tick the west coast of Cornwall;
Simon can tell you all about the dodgy Cornish buses, I was more concerned that I’d spontaneously combust when faced with painfully slow Hell Hansen and Pashmina couples blocking me route to the Golden Lion.
I’d left the west coast honeypots like Boscastle, Tintagel and Bude till late in the GBG attempt, and now Port Isaac had to be faced. It’s gorgeous;
Some folk were driving down these tiny streets. Driving !
The Golden Lion is the honeypot pub in the honeypot village,
overlooking the harbour and offering that Cornish vodka the kidz love.
Best pic is on their Facebook; I think this is the National Heritage bar.
The problem with being more than two (2) months behind with the blog is that my notes make no sense at all now.
“Zesty like me” – is that a Sugababes follow-up ?
“Check the sandwich situation” – is that a line from Hip Priest by The Fall ?
“Blur” – was it all a blur to me ?
No Doom Bar, which seems an atrocity to me, but the Proper Job was a rich 3.5, as it should be at £5.20 a pint.
We can forgive a quid of that £5.20, I reckon; you’d pay that to sit in the garden.
But not for long, the pasties (NCPSS 3) might have sold out.
My sister tells me Port Isaac is the home of Doc Martin, a man who repairs the reputation of unloved Cornish boring brown beers. I always think of this McAloon classic;