You left me at the Spoons in Blackheath, contemplating my next step. A quick look at WhatPub revealed a second Britannia, this one the local Cider Pub of the Year. AND in Rowley Regis, where I’d never been before. Two Britannias 12 minutes apart in the same town (virtually). Now there’s an opportunity for… Continue reading BRITANNIA (2)
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THE GREAT SPOONS TABLE MOVERS OF BLACKHEATH
No, not that Blackheath. The one in the West Midlands with the identity crisis. Blackheath is a town in Rowley Regis area of Sandwell, says Wiki. Got big capital letters and all, so it must be a proper place. Bet the residents support West Brom. I’ve been to a couple of pubs on the A4034… Continue reading THE GREAT SPOONS TABLE MOVERS OF BLACKHEATH
SUCCUMBING TO CARLING IN THE DESI PUB
“That’s not Carling !” I can hear the pedants shout. But I bet Peter Allen, South Birmingham Carling Drinker of the Year 1996, spotted it, presented in misleading glassware aiming to cash in on Coors sudden popularity amongst hipsters. I’m surprised my faithful army of pedants didn’t jump in to shout “Oi, you’re in Tipton,… Continue reading SUCCUMBING TO CARLING IN THE DESI PUB
A TOBY CARVERY IN DUDLEY
Next up, a few days in Dudley with Mrs RM, making an overdue return to this blog. Hang on, I’ve only just got back from finishing Dudley and the West Midlands. Poor planning, Mrs RM. Anyway, no new GBG pubs, so I have to content myself with a few painful train journeys and some very… Continue reading A TOBY CARVERY IN DUDLEY
“A PROPER PUB, NOT A HIPSTER BAR”. FLORIAN THE PSYCHOLOGIST LOVES THE JOLLY ANGLER
You left Mrs RM and I outside Mr Thomas’s Chop House, one of the few central Manchester pubs I’ve neglected to visit over 30 years of pubbing here. And I still can’t tell you if the beer there is better than in Wales, as the luxurious interior was a sea of reserved tables. Another time.… Continue reading “A PROPER PUB, NOT A HIPSTER BAR”. FLORIAN THE PSYCHOLOGIST LOVES THE JOLLY ANGLER
MAGYARS, MANCS & CONDENSED MILK
More holiday snaps from Manchester. It really is a treat to visit when you’re not a bag of nerves. Worth remembering is that this blog is basically a diary, like Pepys without the lechery (that’s BRAPA) so you occasionally get posts without pubs. NO, you can’t have your subscription back. Sunday evening after that quick… Continue reading MAGYARS, MANCS & CONDENSED MILK
(HIDING ON THE) BACKSTREETS (OF PICCADILLY)
Enough of Wales. I’m back there next week, with the UK’s top pub ticker (no, not him), so expect more tales of plant watering in, ooh, August. Next up is a place you may have heard of. Yes, back to Manchester with Mrs RM and Matthew for a family shopping and gig weekend, if you… Continue reading (HIDING ON THE) BACKSTREETS (OF PICCADILLY)
