10th December 2022.
See how I squeeze
five six posts out of a four pub trip to Hull.
It’s very easy; Hull is astonishingly picturesque, the pubs remain busy enough (gearing up for England v France when we visited)and I can always drop in clickbait like National Lager Day.
And yes, lager deserves its own day, probably its own membership funded Campaign, but sadly we stayed to cask in our last pub.
NO ! Not the Pink Parrot, though Mrs RM was tempted.
I wanted to show her the famous George with its tiny window, but that was packed, and it’s fortunate Mrs RM has the ability to find a spare table even when none is available,
as Ye Olde White Harte was also filling up 2 hours before kick-off.
The beer (Ossett and Old Peculiar) was cool and rich (3,5), the pub looks perfect, unchanged since my last visit a lifetime ago.
But within 10 minutes the groups of 40-something Hull were eyeing up our suddenly over-large table.
“Oh, please, join us” we chorused.
They’d been what we call “pre-loading”, and Bloke 1 sang “Kumbaya My Lord” at full volume, possibly to encourage us to drink up and relinquish our comfy seats.
Which we did, and then paid our respects to the windows on the way out.
What a treasure.
I guess it’s the closest you get to Whitelocks, just a lot more boisterous.
“That’s enough beer” I said. Mrs RM looked sceptical.