There is (almost) nothing in life so good as an unexpectedly open pub door (only edged out by finding some uneaten crispy beef the next morning). Not only was it open, but the door to the Dolocauthi Arms was bright red. Yes, the National Trust-owned Dolaucothi invited me in. At 11:09 ! Mrs RM let… Continue reading Was it wrong to get the cleaner to pour my pint in Pumpsaint ?