AND SO TO BED(MINSTER)

30th January 2023.

Going nap in Bristol now (no idea why we call a fivesome “going nap”), assuming we can call Bedminster part of Bristol.

For all I know there’s a King of Bedminster and no-one pays taxes as long as they grow sour beers in their garages or something.

Look, I just don’t know what to make about Beddy (as the kidz call it); always thought it was shorthand for gentrification, with its relentless street art,

queue for the gym and vegan fries, but actually the evidence suggests a more mixed community of scruffy pubs and Proper Shops called things like Stan Butt and Goldstrike.

The High Street has a Heron Foods, Cash Converter and Bargain Booze rubbing shoulders with a lively Spoons and the Barley Mow, which looks scarier than the lot of them put together, something to do with the tiling.

Two years ago we made our bed for the night near that pub and I didn’t even use “making our bed in Bedminster” in the blog title, which seems an abject failure on my part.

The Old Bookshop arrives as you leave the scruffy bit of town and get dangerously close to the brewery taps near Ashton Gate,

and while it’s unmistakeably micro, it’s also the nicest of my five ticks.

I may have been a little refreshed by now, as I recall telling the barman he had a nice accent and him saying “Thanks, I grew it myself“, but the pics are rubbish. I’ll blame that on the fact it was dark, the only lighting the tealights.

But the beer, a 6% Magic Mountain from Arbor, was sensational (NBSS 4). Best stick to halves next time though.

Still, a leisurely pint meant I could enjoy a soundtrack of, well, Bob Mould and friends.

Lovely place, filling up at 6pm with a mixed crowd, and well worthy of Boak & Bailey’s recomendation.

They had vegan curry, as well as vegan loos here, and I nearly stayed for a second pint.

But my sacred duty to you to find a pre-emptive tick and takeaway noodles always comes first, dear reader.

10 thoughts on “AND SO TO BED(MINSTER)

  1. Napoleon, or Nap, is a card game – a variant of whist. Players are dealt five cards each and have to bid how many tricks they think they can make. The highest bidder names the trumps and the other players have to try to stop them making their bid. Winning all five tricks means you had a “nap hand”; bidding five is “going nap”. More information here: https://www.pagat.com/trumps/nap.html

    I assume the use of “nap” in this game also explains why the word is used for a racing tipster’s best bet of the day. (Their next best is rather boringly just called NB.)

    Liked by 1 person

      1. The food is good and we may have stayed in there for quite some time. Which might also be one of the reasons we didn’t get to all the pubs we’d planned to visit. Still, there’s always next year.

        Liked by 1 person

  2. In the venerable profession of protecting a medieval town against attack by random craft beer salesmen, a nightwatch of vigilant concerned local citizens was formed. This didn’t prove as effective as hoped, however, as they were paid in pints of Barley Wine, and after 5 pints were oft to be found taking a nap in a hedgerow.

    Liked by 1 person

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