DON’T BE COY ABOUT COYTRAHEN

Welsh pubs may not always be open, but at least in Glamorgan they’re often an uphill walk away from a railway station with at least one train a day.

Coytrahen doesn’t trouble Wikipedia, which makes me wonder what my occasional £3 donations are for, so I suspect the Nicholls Arms is its highlight.

A Cardiff (CF) postcode, accessed from Tondu (GBG pub here used to have a model railway round the walls) station, firmly in Bridgend but on the edge of the Valleys. I love that mix.

No-one else seems to, as I have the place to myself on a Wednesday afternoon. Where did the Old Boys go ?

Never mind, I had the company of the cheeriest landlady of the trip, genuinely thrilled to see me a half of Butty Bach (cool, tasty, NBSS 3) with huge bag of Marrakesh nuts (£3.35 for both) and accept my cooing as I spotted the Bass shrine (top) and local history.

OK, the furnishing may be a little too homely for some, but gentlefolk no doubt love it,

especially the many folk with canine friends who visit,

and the 60s pop soundtrack never wavered in its brilliance.

Rural Wales does this type of pub brilliantly.

I was still finding those Marrakesh nuts down the side of the campervan a week later.

3 thoughts on “DON’T BE COY ABOUT COYTRAHEN

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