retiredmartin

November 2024. Bath.

Stuck in Cambridge again this week my chances of new GBG ticks are looking a bit forlorn; 3 hours on public transport to my nearest new Guide pub (Cromer) and that would probably mean sleeping the night at Thetford platform.

So let’s celebrate a couple of Somerset ticks at the end of my snatched overnighter in Bath this week, starting with an ultra-rare English pub name.

Yes there’s a Curfew in Berwick, but that’s practically Scotland. Why Curfew.

Who cares ? Why “The Star” or “Pelican in her Piety” or “Ragged Trousers”.

More interestingly why have Wadworths sold it to an independent and how come it still looks like it’s straight outta Devizes ?

“Understated upmarket” must be a pub category, and the trade seems to be women with a bottle of Pinot in a cooler saying “Then I’ll have no exercise“.

Again, it’s very Tunbridge Wells Pantiles, which is fine, and with understated food trade, a good beer range,

and a landlord who acknowledges my fashionista Tee as I order the Bass,

it was better than it looks.

“This Bass is good Paul !” I said, and I think he agreed but I haven’t seen his Untappd scores yet.

Completely different head, and flavour, to the Star, but cool and chewy (NBSS 3.5) in its own glass.

The rest of our half dozen Real Ale Tasters were on halves by now (boo !), but no-one should drink Bass in halves. Oooh, decent soundtrack;

It was at this precise moment that Mrs RM texted me to say she’d arrived in Bath. I’d expected her five hours earlier to be honest, but it seemed to have taken 3 hours to get petrol in Tamworth Services on the M42.

Men ! Fill up your wives cars before you leave the house*.

Actually, I think that was one of JD Vance’s campaign slogans.