retiredmartin

Retired Martin Day. South Cave.

Before I give you your Christmas Day “Half A Dozen Pubs” (Cheshire !), another slice of pub life from Retired Martin Day in our South Cave night out.

I’d considered ticking the Bear via Brough station on the way back from Hull last week, indeed I had a title in mind (“Taking the Brough with the smooth“) but buses from South Cave stop at 17:10, and that may be a year rather than a time.

So an overnighter gave us time to see this East Riding village of 4,823 souls properly,

and find a charming little place reminiscent of Whalley or Alsager, though perhaps rather more under-pubbed.

Not sure what the bear connection is round here, it dominated the hotel as well.

It was 5pm on the Friday before Christmas (as well as a significant birthday), so technically Black Eye Friday or whatever folk call it in Hull.

Rather calmer here than in the big city, but standing room at the bar and a miracle that Mrs RM managed to find a table tucked away in the corner.

Mrs RM never gives me instructions, I’m just expected to guess what she wants and not get tonic and soda water mixed up, so I got her a pint of Boltmakers. Fairly obvious what my birthday tipple is;

Two tight-headed pints, albeit in the wrong glasses, underneath an authentic looking Boddies sign.

Mrs RM’s attention was on the Voltarol, which I thought was a Harry Potter character.

Busy but not boisterous, the Bear was the refuge from the gastro pub across the road, and I liked it as much as Simon did (eventually) last month.

Except for the beer. Where BRAPA got “beer perfection in the form of Black Sheep Respire, like NBSS 5* “, we got two pints more reminiscent of cold tea. I mean, it was OK, but in such a beery place it was underwhelming. And we’re talking Doom Bar here, remember.

(Lack of) lacings never lie.