retiredmartin

March 2024. Birmingham.

Congratulations to any of you who realised that this morning’s post on GBG entries wasn’t an April Fool’s joke. I can now admit that THIS was an April Fool’s Joke;

Apologies to anyone who was still looking for The Dolphin.

Back to March pubs before the monthly stocktake (Spoiler : A disaster for GBG ticking), as I change trains at New Street.

I should have stopped after 5 in Greater Cannock, but there’s no way I could sit still on platform 9 for half an hour waiting for a Cross Country return that may never come and so I headed into town. It’s only taken 5 years, but I reckon I now know my way out of New Street Station, at least 40% of the time.

It’s very important not to sit still as you approach middle-aged or you may never get up again, and Birmingham was looking resplendent at dusk despite a bit of drizzle.

Hopefully the Art Gallery will be properly open soon;

but at the moment Brum’s highlights are the Desi pubs and the canals, more impressive than Venice apparently (who knew ?).

I would have done a Desi pub from David’s book (zero ticks so far), but the artisanal cuisine at Cannock Spoons had ruined my appetite; instead I failed to make it past the Wellington.

I’ve written recently about the pubs you always go in, not always your favourites but possibly out of a sense of duty or determination to see if the issues you have with it have been resolved.

And I guess the Wellington, still a Brum flagship, is one such pub.

I don’t think the beer range is any more exciting, for folk who like “exciting”, than 15 years ago,

but Twisted Barrel Oatmeal Stout sounds “interesting”, a rich NBSS 3, par for the course here.

My main gripe with the Welly over the years has been a certain fustiness downstairs, but today it smells fine and feels a good community pub rather than a “CAMRA pub”.

Full downstairs, so I head for the stairs, making a note to complain about the offensive Dorothy Goodbody poster.

The covered balcony has always been my favourite, one of the best outside drinking areas in the city centre,

and here I get the deep joy of eavesdropping on whispered post-work female conversation about “breastfeeders” and “F*****g pronouns“, which was all deeply unpleasant and not at all in line with CAMRA values but luckily my train was going in 12 minutes so I didn’t have to intervene.

Twelve minutes ? But it’s only five minutes back to the station.