SPINGO’D AT THE BLUE ANCHOR

20th October 2022.

OK, your classic pub porn.

Because, legally, you can’t stay on the edge of Helston and not visit the Blue Anchor.

But also because, and I have to be honest, I wasn’t absolutely sure it was a classic.

I tipped up about a quarter to five, the Golden Hour, and got the tourist photos out the way first.

I think they’re used to old blokes standing in the porch taking photos and going “Oooh“, aren’t they ?

Well, I did at least get those rooms on the left OK;

and that outside loo is one of the immortals.

But if I’m going to advise you to cancel plans to visit Maidenhead and Leigh and come to Helston instead, it’s because of the sheer pubbiness in the front bar.

The first thing you hear is “nother one John ?”. The answer is a nod.

I start with a Middle and have that awkward decision whether to plonk myself on the edge of the table with John or head for the big table near the window.

I take the big table, hoping I won’t be hogging it, and find I can still chip in to the relentless conversation about rain and the chaos in the Commons. But then the chat turns to family matters and I decide to stay well clear and drink.

The phone rings. Three times in quick succession. “Sorry” says our landlady (?) thrice. Who would phone the Blue Anchor ? Are they tickers checking it’s open ? Or tourists wanting to book a table for tea ?

Look, there’s a lot of cask being pulled, including a pint of mix, but it’s an acquired taste this Spingo, isn’t it ?

Looks great in the glass, always fresh and interesting, but rarely drinks its strength.

But I had to have a pint of Special, just to be sure. Bad mistake.

5 thoughts on “SPINGO’D AT THE BLUE ANCHOR

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