retiredmartin

October 2026. West Worthing. West Sussex.

That map extract is home to my four fabulous Thursday ticks, but careful planning almost unravelled as the train from Littlehampton approached West Worthing and the guard woke me from my snooze.

“A REMINDER. If you’re getting off here you need to be in the front SIX coaches. This is coach eight“.

Never scrambled so fast to unplug my phone, wonder where my little travel bag was (around my neck) and dash through two carriages to the open door. I’m amazed BRAPA doesn’t end up in Aberdeen when he falls asleep after eight pints.

Talking of Simon;

“Worthing follows, a town I’ve never ‘bonded’ with. Tonnes of GBG entries, all spread out, generally mediocre micros, and the people lack charm. Nice sea breeze though!” BRAPA, October 2026.

Worthing‘s reputation amongst pub tickers isn’t great. Has there even been a “curated pub survey” here ? Should I write the Official Visitors Guide to Pubby Worthing ?

The trains are part of the problem, forcing you to wait an age for the barriers to raise every 5 minutes, but equally every platform is mere yards from a GBG pub. And a chippy.

Mr Chips, a great and original name, stalls your stagger to the micro with its bargain prices.

I resist, and enter the Foresters just as it opens at 2.

It’s a bright, cheery micro,

with a better range of seating than the long high tables elsewhere,

and a modern outlook on the beer board.

Not sure what the USP is to distinguish these small crafty micros, but the Verdant Lamanva is a tremendous cask bitter (cool, chewy, 4.5), a bit like the best flat Bass,

and the snack range, from which I unwisely pick the Jalapeno pretzels, is exemplary.

Mrs RM, who has been developing an expensive addition to canned cocktails from the Rye Harbour corner shop, would have loved the range here, and I’ve had bought her the Spicy Marg, and she’s have gone (ugh).

My only problem is the one I often have with micros. With no music and as the only customer, it’s just too quiet. Especially when I rustle that Huligan Crush packet.

I could of course have had a conversation with the friendly barmaid, but I doubt they want to chat about Manchester City or train fares or the best Chinese takeaway, and I’m very conscious about being creepy.

At least if there was a soundtrack I can ask whether she chooses the music and compare notes on Charli XCX, so I’m grateful when a couple my age turn up and talk beer.

There’s a beer festival in Worthing that weekend. I really need to have left before that starts.