TAXI FOR BRAPA (Vol. 376)

Time for one more tonight ?

12th November 2022.

The sun shines on the righteous. And the ticker who’s headed for his fourth pub of the day and gets an unexpected lift from Maidstone station.

And I assure you, it was pure fate that brought us together in the tight alley leading to Maidstone East at 2pm, Si looking anxious even though we were only 10 seconds late.

Mrs RM was more excited to meet Simon than I was. Simon was devastated that Mrs RM wasn’t the designated driver (or perhaps that I wasn’t driving him to Painters Forstal).

The Walnut Tree was yet another example of a Proper Pub in the new Guide, a real community boozer, and I expect Simon will get round to blogging about it with full tasting notes some time soon.

Just up the road, the Little Gem provided my first ever visit to Aylesford, thought Mrs RM did some IT work (switching on and off again) at the British Legion HQ.

It’s a little gem, a gorgeous old building that screams micro but run by Goachers.

Here I got told off by a beer enthusiast (probably CAMRA) for calling Aylesford a suburb of Maidstone, and assuming incorrectly that the pub had been converted from a wine bar.

How would I know ?

Simon banged his head four times here, even though he’s only 5ft3,

and Mrs RM enjoyed another Larkins beer, the strongest one, while I sulked that I was driving.

In truth Simon was only expecting a lift to a couple of pubs, but we were enjoying fondling Colin the Cauliflower going to pass two more on the way back to Rye, so let’s stop at Rymarsh, shall we.

This was Simon’s sixth pub of the day, but you wouldn’t have known. Colin, however, was distinctly wonky;

As was the obligatory rural Kent dog, who hopefully hadn’t eaten any of BRAPA’s mini cheddars.

You might remember the Duke as the female friendly pub I visited twice by accident in 2017, and a third visit was overkill.

Weirdly, the last pub of the afternoon was the one we’d been to only yesterday, as Simon got a visit to the remote Man of Kent in, albeit in pitch darkness.

In true BRAPA fashion, the landlord came out to talk to us about making the GBG for the first time despite selling (hopefully good) cask beer for years, and Simon cajoled him into applying the green marker to the hallowed pages.

I think he had no idea what BRAPA (top) was doing, and of course neither do we.

The only table was reserved for a “Pauline”, but in learning of her visit she’s been whisked off to London for a day out.

Better safe than sorry, Pauline.

4 thoughts on “TAXI FOR BRAPA (Vol. 376)

  1. Always delighted to read of you crossing paths with Simon, and not just because I know that means you’ve saved him from an arduous series of bus rides.

    “This was Simon’s sixth pub of the day, but you wouldn’t have known.” –Drat, you’ve ruined my image of him being a wild man by pub 6! I guess all that ticking teaches a lad how to hold his drink and remain a respectable member of society. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

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