March 2024. Cannock.
Well, I’d certainly done Cannock justice by the time I arrived at my second new GBG entry/fourth tick, and I’d finally found you some proper art. Or is it porn ?
The Arcade is 5 minutes from the station, and I found I could neck a half in 2 minutes and catch an earlier train, or have a leisurely pint and take in the local banter.
I picked the latter, although the Arcade did have the feel from outside of one of those Black Country suburban micro with Wye Valley and Holdens on the bar and lots of vodkas.
My bad, as they say in Brownhills. An odd cask selection (Woodfordes, Goffs, a second sighting that day, and Track Sonoma). Note the bulldog clips, which have special religious meaning in Staffordshire.
But the craft ran to Sureshot, Amundsen, Brew York, and a 10% sour that the locals were talking about as excitedly as an Aston Villa VAR check.
Top Pub Man Quinno had been in recently and mentioned a “twitchy sphincter”, which is possibly a euphemism too far for this blog.
I saw so twitching, just a quirky pub with Turbo Man and fun and games above the picture of the Aston Villa boss (top). Wolves in the Merchant, Villa here; why can’t Cannock folk support Hednesford Town ?
“Do you prefer cash or card ?” I asked the young barman, ordering the Sonoma.
“I’m not a BIG cask fan” he said, and I assumed it was my accent.
A decent pint, better than the one in Track’s own Piccadilly tap, I thought (NBSS 3.5), thought it faded a bit (NBSS 3).
The soundtrack was at just the right volume (for me, anyway), twisting its late 70s/early 80s was between “Walking On The Moon” and “Enola Gay”, before settling firmly in 1985.
The banter was mostly about grouting and a lively discussion of the merits of the Goffs from a couple of CAMRA types, who I assume were NOT staying to play Mortal Kombat.
There’s quite enough of that sort of conflict on Discourse these days.
retiredmartin 