Before I take you back to the heatwave of July, Mrs RM has asked that I introduced you to Alfie the Alpaca, the newest member of our family.
Baa Baa Toure has been bringing Alfie* up-to-date on the house rules, which can be summed up as “Cup of tea and chocolate for Mrs RM, on the hour“. With those hooves Alfie may be a problem.
I left Mrs RM for another midweek jaunt down to Glamorgan in the height of the heatwave, determined to finish the county in one go.
Clearly what you need for that is pubs that are open, and outside the cities that’s problematic these days. But the Vale of Glamorgan does have those gentlefolk dining pubs that survive on sales of lunchtime fish and chips so I reckoned I had a good chance at the Horseshoe in Marcross., even though it’s not as well known as the Plough & Harrow in Monknash or that Pelican that seems to have lost its piety.
Nothing warms the tickers’ heart like a handwritten sign saying “OPEN” (that’s Welsh for OPEN).
The decor is typically late ’70s dining pub,
and the bar looks largely unchanged apart from two microbrews.
I fear the worst, though any pub serving treacle sponge should be treated with respect.
One family dining, no-one behind the bar, and an unseen toddler shouts “Dad !” to attract the barman.
I decide to head to the side room where I spy braces, and therefore life.
The two Old Boys are discussing a riot at Barry Island, which I later find out is nothing to do with BRAPA but rather Kent’s very own Paul Bailey, who has been mobbed on his visit to a craft bar there.
Rod sings “Young Hearts (Run Free)“, the Nash Point is an unexpectedly cool and chewy 3.5, the only trade is a request for a strawberry ice cream. They’re taking several bookings for early tea, though.
It’s a lovely pub in a gorgeous part of the world in Summer with hardly any trade. It’s no wonder pubs don’t open at lunchtime anymore.
*named after another top GBG ticker who may well complete soon.