Eagle-eyed readers may have noticed I didn’t score the Batham’s in the wonderful Vine. Don’t read anything into that; it was Good (NBSS 3+), fully deserving of its GBG place. It’s just the beer next door was even better. I doubt you’ll be following me to the Black Horse though. A friendly, modernised, opened-out fun… Continue reading THE ROAD TO LOWER GORNAL
Tag: Black Horse
FAKE CIDER HAND PUMPS TO KEEP THE DOOR CLOSED
Driving BRAPA around is a bit like rubbernecking, waiting for the pints to kick in around the 3rd or 4th pub. Of course, you’d never see me in a state like that. But he’s always so polite and cheery, at least until the micro pub decides to take the month off and not tell anyone.… Continue reading FAKE CIDER HAND PUMPS TO KEEP THE DOOR CLOSED
BAPS & BOMBARDIER
Baps. Or Cobs. Or rolls. Or whatever you call them. But never muffins. One of the best indicators of Proper Pub, along with mobility scooters and stolen goods, is a supply of baps behind the counter, available throughout the day. On that basis the Black Horse west of Durham City scores highly. You even get… Continue reading BAPS & BOMBARDIER
THE A68 – CRISPS, CASK AND CHOMSKY
“Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans“, as Yoko Ono once said. So I spend my time planning trips to the Isle of Wight, wherever that is, and dreaming of making inroads into East Devon, but end up driving up and down the A68 past the mining towns of Durham.… Continue reading THE A68 – CRISPS, CASK AND CHOMSKY
PRESTON – SEEING THE LIZARDS IN THE BLACK HORSE
“What have you been writing about me NOW ?” screamed Mrs RM as we set off down the A59. I’d forgot she very occasionally reads this stuff. So, by way of correction, can I say that Mrs RM was walking at a perfectly brisk pace yesterday, as you need to be when trudging through a field of… Continue reading PRESTON – SEEING THE LIZARDS IN THE BLACK HORSE
BRIDGNORTH – NEARLY PERFECT
Some folk seem to think I have a nice life, travelling round the country visiting pubs and listening to female folk singers. Don’t be fooled. My good friend Charles gets to stay in the Black Country a night or two a week, have a curry with me, and go to Audit Comittees. That’s livin’ alreet,… Continue reading BRIDGNORTH – NEARLY PERFECT
HOW TO SURVIVE WHITBY
We popped to Whitby, reckoning a blustery Saturday at the end of September would see us safe from both holiday hordes and the groups of Goths that always turn up in Mr Everitt’s tales. It was heaving. The busiest place I’ve seen since St Ives at Easter or York’s Shambles in Summer. Apparently there’s a themed weekend… Continue reading HOW TO SURVIVE WHITBY
HARVEYS IN HAILSHAM
The next leg of my mission to finish the southern Beer Guide counties took in Hailsham and Lewes. You can see Lewes lying like a box of toys under a great amphitheatre of chalk hills … on the whole it is set down better than any town I have seen in England. — William Morris (1834-1896)… Continue reading HARVEYS IN HAILSHAM
THETFORD – MORE THAN JUST BIG TREES
My idea of hell is a week at Centerparcs. I always struggled to show the required enthusiasm for colleagues trips to resorts at Thetford and Penrith, particularly when they never left the site all week. Pontins in Southport is more my style; access to the world from that one. Some people don’t even know they’ve gone to… Continue reading THETFORD – MORE THAN JUST BIG TREES
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