Blog Tracker
17-11-2021, 00:21
Visit The BRAPA site (http://brapa-4500.blogspot.com/2021/11/brapa-is-brought-on-as-sub-adding-to-my.html)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2H-V6pUjKoIlc0m_bbShfwRfYVt-1mL7IuKg1ybfyphQeSRXRPw0F0wmqOwAgf--DtTTP9spPYP4WsbqgMYnHOU7UZInsqJlATrFWdiQufHgoKLyD-S37HnkVhYIECRRMjaJBMcMpqgshZYcqIYLQsl9d2WUc_8LV4_j KHIRmjiDzdnhUxoj2tPXMhg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2H-V6pUjKoIlc0m_bbShfwRfYVt-1mL7IuKg1ybfyphQeSRXRPw0F0wmqOwAgf--DtTTP9spPYP4WsbqgMYnHOU7UZInsqJlATrFWdiQufHgoKLyD-S37HnkVhYIECRRMjaJBMcMpqgshZYcqIYLQsl9d2WUc_8LV4_j KHIRmjiDzdnhUxoj2tPXMhg=s4032)
Staring down into the village well in Broughton on the morning of Wednesday 3rd November, I was getting strange flashbacks from the night before where I nearly fell into that vat of Pressed Warthog ale at Triple fff brewery.
It had been a frustrating morning. Up early to do one of my half dozen or so 'impossible on public transport' ticks this week, my plans to walk 4.5 miles from Mottisfont & Dunbridge station had been scuppered by 'the Salisbury Incident' (the train one, not the Russian one).
Having missed the bus to Stockbridge where I could've attempted a hair raising walk along the A30 (glad I didn't, plus I didn't know a #Pubman lived there - more on that later), all that remained was to take an expensive taxi. At least there was a 13:09 bus back to Winchester!
It was your typical remote village, a few curtain twitchers kept an eye on me, the village phone box was now a lending library, cor you could've been in rural Cambs.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTwqn5Zgg2EvQ7ValA3JZnPr0EPv3Csn0xOOkqRu4sOX 6riMcOrJ0hOdkMC8RCARXZkPcfeFOikpZKHcOu4jQQhSx8aTLI ba37QZVXJHSFe1Rl0q4IFts8nshLVA4OsPSz2XRFAyphNbyOPP tZJekRu3s-gsXoBYdIuYHwx1MYNANVJaZ4kwMYhtQDgg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTwqn5Zgg2EvQ7ValA3JZnPr0EPv3Csn0xOOkqRu4sOX 6riMcOrJ0hOdkMC8RCARXZkPcfeFOikpZKHcOu4jQQhSx8aTLI ba37QZVXJHSFe1Rl0q4IFts8nshLVA4OsPSz2XRFAyphNbyOPP tZJekRu3s-gsXoBYdIuYHwx1MYNANVJaZ4kwMYhtQDgg=s4032)
At 11:50am, I witnessed a conversation between a jolly man who had 'youthful pub landlord' written all over him, and a dude in a car. "Popping in for a pint?" asked the former. "Ooohaarrr I moight" says the latter. "You open already?" I interjected. "We've been open since 11 moite!" he replies. You won't find that info on social media. Let's get our first impossible tick of the week done.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjS66N5MuiLkl5D0UPYeoPj2syOvWrqwJv2yVwHu26WPI PjpC53bPpoi8iqIgleZ7a4cNOrkOLuCp_aIt-n0BSPLEZJKCfV5XfisMsBCCwBIWnJYefqa45F-KeFkMinFzDYKE0msXCRq_zS4fvbbYMrN0PEMtTLI-uiDmTKXMEM3B15igUlZhQy950Ltg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjS66N5MuiLkl5D0UPYeoPj2syOvWrqwJv2yVwHu26WPI PjpC53bPpoi8iqIgleZ7a4cNOrkOLuCp_aIt-n0BSPLEZJKCfV5XfisMsBCCwBIWnJYefqa45F-KeFkMinFzDYKE0msXCRq_zS4fvbbYMrN0PEMtTLI-uiDmTKXMEM3B15igUlZhQy950Ltg=s4032)
Tally Ho! Broughton was the name, an interesting clash of styles within. Village farm shop in feel, part dining, part traditional local, it was certainly not dark and brooding like many pubs I'd visit this week. The bar area was especially disconcerting. Incredibly low and deep, meaning they had room aplenty to display their village store-esque wares behind it. It was like someone had built an area half way across the room, and called it a bar, than built a bar in the traditional sense. I'm allowed to order the 'wrong' beer, and then taunted that I should've been patient and waited for the Exmoor Fox to go on! It is all done in good humour but is still odd behaviour. Pulling it through takes the barmaid an age, she's getting taunted too to go quicker with her pulling technique. Me and Col are laughing from afar. Jarvis the pub dog comes to settle next to us, a lively contender lacking concentration span. The stand out moment is when a bloke (quite serious and posh looking, meeting another chap here for lunch) asks if the pub sells any biscuits! I don't think it all my years pub ticking have I ever heard anyone ask that in a pub. It throws the staff, who eventually flog him those tiny biscotti things you put on the side of coffee saucer. He munches a few down with gusto and half an Exmoor. #TasteHook I return for a half of Exmoor myself "seeing as you've worked so hard to get it on!" I say. "Awwww bless ya" say the staff. BRAPA cares.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi54LjhfHrIkC2zvHCO7IAxZ25o-7KLhbc-lmcZA390trlzS8Mmz0ccSMYXIqT4OTfUd1GG-9Iga9ae1hUrvCWKB6swaIjbbF--g3pbKscBrBqiG-frNmH0-sRB6Qeu62BJ7q08FO4vDTEYx6WHQ2ygoixTI9pmtGWQ1t7NqVb SID5kUBRWz2Y-cmtClQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi54LjhfHrIkC2zvHCO7IAxZ25o-7KLhbc-lmcZA390trlzS8Mmz0ccSMYXIqT4OTfUd1GG-9Iga9ae1hUrvCWKB6swaIjbbF--g3pbKscBrBqiG-frNmH0-sRB6Qeu62BJ7q08FO4vDTEYx6WHQ2ygoixTI9pmtGWQ1t7NqVb SID5kUBRWz2Y-cmtClQ=s3024)
Jarv and Col ultimately fail to bond
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEib5X9Sme7g0dqH7P59hZDx1ZZ1DcRrgnJ93-agB3dBlu6YvzUEe7dkOZtgnVRrzUPsqoSHOVJNXhSDFGiDTzUu XGukoZ5AyF45RoY-ABHbg2mP4PNoJYiQgpvOoLcn4hzCO4Vq0z6luYqqU9udYmdWzM JNmdHl0t7wLHRyfbEKRyGZPLRoqNA9_pYrBw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEib5X9Sme7g0dqH7P59hZDx1ZZ1DcRrgnJ93-agB3dBlu6YvzUEe7dkOZtgnVRrzUPsqoSHOVJNXhSDFGiDTzUu XGukoZ5AyF45RoY-ABHbg2mP4PNoJYiQgpvOoLcn4hzCO4Vq0z6luYqqU9udYmdWzM JNmdHl0t7wLHRyfbEKRyGZPLRoqNA9_pYrBw=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijTAjihrMBYG5QqI0nx07x8HLhHJzMJNU5b2T03T4rjV cbecyR-PvKMtLQ8plWEcDDK-rixNah3KK2A1TeHc9XXUxy97LUItYJ85sBtMie5n6-PhEpUa5yZ-OYHLar9-iftjRx37r_X-qqbOW7t6XlEBe7xbLdcwrDpndhVf7JXZKOfSvHgdGkVQ4qJA=s 320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijTAjihrMBYG5QqI0nx07x8HLhHJzMJNU5b2T03T4rjV cbecyR-PvKMtLQ8plWEcDDK-rixNah3KK2A1TeHc9XXUxy97LUItYJ85sBtMie5n6-PhEpUa5yZ-OYHLar9-iftjRx37r_X-qqbOW7t6XlEBe7xbLdcwrDpndhVf7JXZKOfSvHgdGkVQ4qJA=s 4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX7kZbBwnPZx3_9P3Bv19Bp0lbAMnVG4o3z1UH8n_-qxGwhxxZ6wY_DgLzyQsS-mJOMD9Rw9BqBDaHsL0YTmtfgYzsvE4ffJA9U78ldQk_NevJML2 XmJTm4AI0JOUo9KhXKJjWnaETA2GpBKqr-rnddd1VnxiBl6T7HE9AWjaGzd7gryGhUJbD3rybYQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX7kZbBwnPZx3_9P3Bv19Bp0lbAMnVG4o3z1UH8n_-qxGwhxxZ6wY_DgLzyQsS-mJOMD9Rw9BqBDaHsL0YTmtfgYzsvE4ffJA9U78ldQk_NevJML2 XmJTm4AI0JOUo9KhXKJjWnaETA2GpBKqr-rnddd1VnxiBl6T7HE9AWjaGzd7gryGhUJbD3rybYQ=s2839)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9XjSMLnuBXEo8COLCPsI9ePpphcxBZpBd4DP3Cs-n-3jRvrPYtw8cz6Hy__J29S1WAoEEYGzD8DeGdq2TANbmm6fLgAX R2NJKG-RdXJP6DjdUd9op7FHXsUMp_0mHJ3_oTKjN-gybVDskBQ1TvLiUZdg7vJz9_9SJne1gE9DJP5eAOfHMG7hv4Af CPg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9XjSMLnuBXEo8COLCPsI9ePpphcxBZpBd4DP3Cs-n-3jRvrPYtw8cz6Hy__J29S1WAoEEYGzD8DeGdq2TANbmm6fLgAX R2NJKG-RdXJP6DjdUd9op7FHXsUMp_0mHJ3_oTKjN-gybVDskBQ1TvLiUZdg7vJz9_9SJne1gE9DJP5eAOfHMG7hv4Af CPg=s4029)
Peculiar but nice, would be my pub summary, and it wasn't finished yet. As I waited for the bus, a hi-vis dribbling yokel stops for a ten minute chat, and a removal van makes me cross the road - I assume he's wanting to park his van in the space behind the bus stop, but he drives straight past! Why do people keep testing me? Must be the Test Valley way. Haha. Sorry.
Back in Winchester, and being Wednesday, there still isn't a lot open mid afternoon midweek. Basingstoke & Whitchurch to save the day?
My train doesn't take long, I enjoy a spot of lunch and send RetiredMartin some GBG pages on the move, he wants Derbyshire and Manchester today. Demanding. Can't he go to the Winchester until all this blows over? #TickersUnion kept him right in his embargo period hour of need.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnIHH2qkLOiKBdq4VdVl4OROqYOj3U8prcR8rBT3s5Wa DA8W8aCACNVCkJp_Z7qdOnzl4djndW9I8hVM0ebUK6n6wwZ4gT 0xZgsssMHM31PG8RCj5o1tYosjMyzcN4h27njiWAAMkoLVZoMl ntiZoupLBvGLD3KhKEZOQ7k1heIOIGW5mDGmQ4Pw94mQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnIHH2qkLOiKBdq4VdVl4OROqYOj3U8prcR8rBT3s5Wa DA8W8aCACNVCkJp_Z7qdOnzl4djndW9I8hVM0ebUK6n6wwZ4gT 0xZgsssMHM31PG8RCj5o1tYosjMyzcN4h27njiWAAMkoLVZoMl ntiZoupLBvGLD3KhKEZOQ7k1heIOIGW5mDGmQ4Pw94mQ=s3840 )
The train to Whitchurch was about half an hour off, but luckily one of my two new Basingstokees was hanging off the edge of the station car park like a lady in a strappy dress. It looked kind of extreme if that really was new accommodation tagged onto the rear .....
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNBjTfGKNA7NJXTib88KxWR9-GpgPrSEu7K-N_zaZrytuJ7VkugyKiCQh58uFan8LcPbqlkwnEK4ZA9gVltWRb c0p5oSzCsm4CQifvw0b6dBW4PqlVzxj87voo7plvtnlNGem-zYROHVvlaM9TrZQQqeyqwKxHId_NTCNmHawMZMKXrtIHA1V_3f DENw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNBjTfGKNA7NJXTib88KxWR9-GpgPrSEu7K-N_zaZrytuJ7VkugyKiCQh58uFan8LcPbqlkwnEK4ZA9gVltWRb c0p5oSzCsm4CQifvw0b6dBW4PqlVzxj87voo7plvtnlNGem-zYROHVvlaM9TrZQQqeyqwKxHId_NTCNmHawMZMKXrtIHA1V_3f DENw=s3314)
Queen's Arms, Basingstoke was a reassuringly basic boozer. On another day, it could've joined every other Basingstoke pub I'd ever been to in the realm of 'borefest', but this experience was different. It all starts as the landlady serves the small Irish regular to my right a pint of Kronenboug instead of his regular Fosters. "Not sure I can handle Krony anymore" he says, the first time I've heard an Irish person question their tolerance of booze. She kind of blames the fact that she's also serving me, but it leads to the three of us stood at the bar in mid weekday afternoon splendour having a very pleasant chat. He wonders what my accent is, which opens up plenty of BRAPA chat. They are both massive fans of Swanage (first time I've heard this too) and we all relive our experiences of the Square & Compass at Worth Matravers and replacement buses driving you to your front door. Well, he downs his drink and leaves, and just as I am also saying farewell, two new blokes walk in, and open conversation with the landlady. The circle of pub life. This pub definitely had something about it.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnnUnX6L52q8cbjfC_rAzappDzucxVMLTosAG3_hFGog L_eTnKhbrpsLmqBQ1zGpFh-kJCifjTM9WAmfcbE8_4RVokt1U0UEsMIDs6f_yMFxpfr4St0bN 7iP6YIvm3y8izCwl9nxtVdslRm1iCzfzfNWyEes9fwHm92Z_-vfPH3U68LuU1xhy6nJbM8w=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnnUnX6L52q8cbjfC_rAzappDzucxVMLTosAG3_hFGog L_eTnKhbrpsLmqBQ1zGpFh-kJCifjTM9WAmfcbE8_4RVokt1U0UEsMIDs6f_yMFxpfr4St0bN 7iP6YIvm3y8izCwl9nxtVdslRm1iCzfzfNWyEes9fwHm92Z_-vfPH3U68LuU1xhy6nJbM8w=s4032)
Orange Doom Bar, mmmm, like an Orange Kit Kat?
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPp8ASiGZRaLcgjCsPSP8YSfWFuxqH-N1qU6zhleNcJ8wxtuMZ-yICRUnuQLT4o-NP7DL3EQAKlrspL9u4C3bcfVnWWZtyvW9_Fes3FvAmnNM3Y_ew EwNG9TC7Fj9OkP2NnmpgeEItfbjg5YMbwLv1dkUxWavP40QZ3y 8i7w-mgZ_MpCcT1Uv5qTD9sQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPp8ASiGZRaLcgjCsPSP8YSfWFuxqH-N1qU6zhleNcJ8wxtuMZ-yICRUnuQLT4o-NP7DL3EQAKlrspL9u4C3bcfVnWWZtyvW9_Fes3FvAmnNM3Y_ew EwNG9TC7Fj9OkP2NnmpgeEItfbjg5YMbwLv1dkUxWavP40QZ3y 8i7w-mgZ_MpCcT1Uv5qTD9sQ=s4032)
The pub being boozerish
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimxum4EMokEi-7L52ogKw5MCzU1JmMvZd_B-8IizAgq4NbVsT--x20rnXHoiYRk00zKy9Wzlx0yD7ZKZDG9CUGkM3J1nIN0JxN1q3 60uvscHxvzY4sSR5ye9hybRL2ykD2jGoAYUdsRZSVChTGS3rfF R9KdbxI043ZnmZ_NeuAE9IwFT4WUFBpBG6DZw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimxum4EMokEi-7L52ogKw5MCzU1JmMvZd_B-8IizAgq4NbVsT--x20rnXHoiYRk00zKy9Wzlx0yD7ZKZDG9CUGkM3J1nIN0JxN1q3 60uvscHxvzY4sSR5ye9hybRL2ykD2jGoAYUdsRZSVChTGS3rfF R9KdbxI043ZnmZ_NeuAE9IwFT4WUFBpBG6DZw=s4032)
Did the Irish man get the lager he wanted? 'Fraid not
I still had another Basingstoke pub to do, SIX in the Guide, but make no mistake, even if you are one of those people who call it Amazingstoke, it isn't exactly Winchester pub town quality. Happier than Andover, but then again, where isn't?
But no time for the Basingstoke pub yet, I had a prior engagement at Whitchurch, well once my phone stopped being a nob and let me download my ticket. I ran for the connection, phew!
The first one was a decent trek away from the centre, and I nearly walked past it, it looked more like a convalescence for French nuns than a pub, but maybe it was just me .......
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPVL9pQKxFHTSPlImg_qLxDwf0dzAYQe3w5iGTYxKx2E D0z4Zrxw4JpbwvzMfbeQwPmZWOv99lGnXdTJWq98jb9vQWU81s 4RX9jRlZhnnK5YtvadyQ1QGIRdhzCJqGSSthZPgz6ya0j1fxoe RkOEma5Ja6_7J-jUZt6tOiG-GhWX5nf5VysNSqc6AL8Q=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPVL9pQKxFHTSPlImg_qLxDwf0dzAYQe3w5iGTYxKx2E D0z4Zrxw4JpbwvzMfbeQwPmZWOv99lGnXdTJWq98jb9vQWU81s 4RX9jRlZhnnK5YtvadyQ1QGIRdhzCJqGSSthZPgz6ya0j1fxoe RkOEma5Ja6_7J-jUZt6tOiG-GhWX5nf5VysNSqc6AL8Q=s4032)
Can you see her hiding in the doorway? I did encourage the chirpy barmaid at the Prince Regent, Whitchurch to embrace her 5 seconds of BRAPA fame, but she sensibly declined. It was an honest type of boozer, not unlike the last, but most notably fellow pub ticker Eddie Fogden was in town for his Hitchcockian cameo, before a football ground tick / Wonston Arms debut. He had me a pint of Crop Circle on the table when I arrived, what a gent, it is nice once in every ten pubs to walk into a pub and see a friendly face. It was his first time seeing the new 'under embargo' GBG, and soon this equally chirpy bloke comes over and is shaking our hands, slagging off the other Whitchurch pubs, especially the one I'm visiting next. Cross town pub rivalry. I love it. A lovely smell of curry is emanating from every pore of this pub making us hungry. Eddie has a lift so has to dash, so all that remains is to hear our elusive barmaid telling Mr Rivalry about how horrid she was to her Mum when she was a teenager. Decent boozer, but I dunno, something about it that just felt a little tired.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioIq524vB5tDgaNGb1p_j2h4pLzATiytkH2KgQDvU3_P YeFem-Qo4z-GxZmYU0k1yXc4GPjXaxhUNPB5fJTs_pr_1Q3o7NCduWTL9Ho-ZAzeYVY6OgGb_Gws0ttvRlh1BDIzaSbUnPlh8FEYu-M-0S1XAWHasEcO3cYElAulyGDR6_2aLzwKyTlZOO7Q=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioIq524vB5tDgaNGb1p_j2h4pLzATiytkH2KgQDvU3_P YeFem-Qo4z-GxZmYU0k1yXc4GPjXaxhUNPB5fJTs_pr_1Q3o7NCduWTL9Ho-ZAzeYVY6OgGb_Gws0ttvRlh1BDIzaSbUnPlh8FEYu-M-0S1XAWHasEcO3cYElAulyGDR6_2aLzwKyTlZOO7Q=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPHzv0zE56VK3X1VBCo0dNtCAk3unUsswHsA77ZfZVRp 2wsdvK38TBn-DPLvPIWj4g3BSm_-_agZRx81Q6DR63smLgT-yNBJJ6IGQ5ZJJdZgJ9MuSfUe04Vzq9m0ulOfXXKSqlbHvZYg1q _jfOm0VZKwnK9fD1O_lF-iSip0bKcsSajraa5WcGDF8knw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPHzv0zE56VK3X1VBCo0dNtCAk3unUsswHsA77ZfZVRp 2wsdvK38TBn-DPLvPIWj4g3BSm_-_agZRx81Q6DR63smLgT-yNBJJ6IGQ5ZJJdZgJ9MuSfUe04Vzq9m0ulOfXXKSqlbHvZYg1q _jfOm0VZKwnK9fD1O_lF-iSip0bKcsSajraa5WcGDF8knw=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnGncmshd_WaBbIxyXkxjLRch_LODSTcDYsrCtt5ulQH WyxhsRdO0gKBXlAju6uWEqBbxAvZqqjIi1u--lUPzW8xh9N4P-27N8RWcQ99Vui9_bZC-FWxj6U2tzl5Ps7RYKZlGlvSq3kMY6VFKpv83WyTirvLB0JQhG4 FMLWuwCoVVnbiOVT0XoZgYQ-g=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnGncmshd_WaBbIxyXkxjLRch_LODSTcDYsrCtt5ulQH WyxhsRdO0gKBXlAju6uWEqBbxAvZqqjIi1u--lUPzW8xh9N4P-27N8RWcQ99Vui9_bZC-FWxj6U2tzl5Ps7RYKZlGlvSq3kMY6VFKpv83WyTirvLB0JQhG4 FMLWuwCoVVnbiOVT0XoZgYQ-g=s4032)
A quick march into the centre of town brought me to our other Whitchurch tick just as dusk was starting to fall on day two of BRAPA.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgazC5PEX4gfOnypdEMshyqdXuQhAeDeefztAUwKPOkAR EGaItGfr1ON9UGQ9A_18lHg39enJRMParweNI5TWdaLPbhyjeb jdn0DRfbht9FdzzTiz5M9wnoEF_8YP629h_cy-NxGjXH9d5AbR_C6A1-ZhqFbp2YRkOrV0aN5HZKo--4dhne-TbU-ckDDw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgazC5PEX4gfOnypdEMshyqdXuQhAeDeefztAUwKPOkAR EGaItGfr1ON9UGQ9A_18lHg39enJRMParweNI5TWdaLPbhyjeb jdn0DRfbht9FdzzTiz5M9wnoEF_8YP629h_cy-NxGjXH9d5AbR_C6A1-ZhqFbp2YRkOrV0aN5HZKo--4dhne-TbU-ckDDw=s4032)
The writing was on the wall quite literally as I stepped up to Kings Arms, Whitchurch. A pub I found dull as dishwater and it left me cold, or at least the beer did. I'd love to agree with the bloke in this last pub, who branded it a 'joke' but the place was such a soulless limp lettuce, I couldn't summon the energy to have any particular hatred for it. It'd be like kicking a disinterested kitten. 'Posh dog snob' walks in at same time as me, and nearly ends up buying my pint, a usually excellent 'Village Idiot' kept at an icy temperature so you couldn't really taste it. "Very apt!" smirks PDS as I order it. First I think he's meaning me! But then he rolls his eyes at the cackling student ladies, who's laughter is torture in the cavernous acoustic nightmare that is this pub. The staff lack any semblance of humanity. The Prince Regent was hardly a pub of the year contender, but compared with this, it was a gem.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkVI6JTkCO1eUXsgDWsyvo6q42GJjFzRJsltn10CXowk qjTZgER6Aas1XaQlWdKAXJrExr-X4b-TdcgIBLDLbwbuh7kQljnu0ENIZVcRiintNgvJYuGVjDX5oIS5g kePVO3jMTD4CPzGPMRmSJx2BevH8y0jzzhXR9fwYD1eMyrUalV PvGbHsFlB3tgw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkVI6JTkCO1eUXsgDWsyvo6q42GJjFzRJsltn10CXowk qjTZgER6Aas1XaQlWdKAXJrExr-X4b-TdcgIBLDLbwbuh7kQljnu0ENIZVcRiintNgvJYuGVjDX5oIS5g kePVO3jMTD4CPzGPMRmSJx2BevH8y0jzzhXR9fwYD1eMyrUalV PvGbHsFlB3tgw=s4032)
"A better pub - 0.5 miles"
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhCDzhR2Xt3mIV4MF9F_Cx-oDMEr1_oTyil798U-tDfJZfrm88nbnjjcyGT3E1YLOkT68CTZTGqoFqqZ0OZnlldvnq rRBgjgLUNMF7B1nsyWwmqkB2SeZ1lB_wUIldyGR9H9khmNQhpv cX9yBgvkFGcXhw0tK5KoMHVfJgr2RvUDMSpq3vROiATRak0g=s 320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhCDzhR2Xt3mIV4MF9F_Cx-oDMEr1_oTyil798U-tDfJZfrm88nbnjjcyGT3E1YLOkT68CTZTGqoFqqZ0OZnlldvnq rRBgjgLUNMF7B1nsyWwmqkB2SeZ1lB_wUIldyGR9H9khmNQhpv cX9yBgvkFGcXhw0tK5KoMHVfJgr2RvUDMSpq3vROiATRak0g=s 3135)
Just say no
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgI8Vr0nJQ4XutnILZH2rWCukJaG14KyLlRkiopKEtTme UUtTEk2bwq8ZpHA39P5hs4unmM9oXnr1D99jeSK_gbkaeFHl8p wso63QY2W9dWSpf5P6qL6oCfEMV4z7ZFrB01flnDCMulsFDUNL yWgocoqf_Jzqh8DUgdPC7YJd2GMdEi4a6NFjnZUOwwyg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgI8Vr0nJQ4XutnILZH2rWCukJaG14KyLlRkiopKEtTme UUtTEk2bwq8ZpHA39P5hs4unmM9oXnr1D99jeSK_gbkaeFHl8p wso63QY2W9dWSpf5P6qL6oCfEMV4z7ZFrB01flnDCMulsFDUNL yWgocoqf_Jzqh8DUgdPC7YJd2GMdEi4a6NFjnZUOwwyg=s4032 )
Col tries to add a bit of irreverence to proceedings
It was drizzling with rain, and the rush hour traffic was out in force as I wait for the bus to Overton. Already in a bad mood from the last pub, some total idiot parks in the bus space, runs off down an alleyway for a piss, and then for an encore goes to buy a sandwich from the Co-op behind me. The bus is just coming down the road as he emerges, so he runs around, hops in and drives off just in the nick of time. I mouth 'wanker' and give him ironic applause, he sees me and starts gesticulating like he wants a fight, but I have pubs to do and he looks like he goes to the gym.
In fact, once at Overton, some mental maths tells me I only have 25 minutes absolute max ...... a bus journey made more painful as a girl demands to know where her boyfriend has been. He won't tell her. She has tears in her eyes. 'Sorry lass, I think you might be going out with a pub ticker!'
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKeelAvpfWyaJ2tf6homDm7vTg-C-Z11n4nl9U60pmUCJomq-5lEvpQxkQv5Kd4ShQ_9IgglrbPkJsZ7IgnNa9GSkYBDGicHDJc XXCzreYbtogetPoyaA0BJqzMzRq-THhcvp9kdbxPQTeNe2yp2Ee8RWGFxRFm-IKqC71VYh5NyRvAdwrym8TEgWnzQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKeelAvpfWyaJ2tf6homDm7vTg-C-Z11n4nl9U60pmUCJomq-5lEvpQxkQv5Kd4ShQ_9IgglrbPkJsZ7IgnNa9GSkYBDGicHDJc XXCzreYbtogetPoyaA0BJqzMzRq-THhcvp9kdbxPQTeNe2yp2Ee8RWGFxRFm-IKqC71VYh5NyRvAdwrym8TEgWnzQ=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5_1bv-KnZwnZGTiQ9RD3CL2mI5Maz4e9f1SAqgRyph78K6VeN3n2YF4G 5HiOPHHTAOSyCyUxfnkJ_ySgE5f0YtdAH_ee3zDbgaMl6ZBy-pXNRBmxZqOLNT-4oAioAXJ6L23cWjh_SHDacdQM9yTf6TKofoqv6mPXgHTQYlrbB AinV2MUhkW_GcYojZA=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5_1bv-KnZwnZGTiQ9RD3CL2mI5Maz4e9f1SAqgRyph78K6VeN3n2YF4G 5HiOPHHTAOSyCyUxfnkJ_ySgE5f0YtdAH_ee3zDbgaMl6ZBy-pXNRBmxZqOLNT-4oAioAXJ6L23cWjh_SHDacdQM9yTf6TKofoqv6mPXgHTQYlrbB AinV2MUhkW_GcYojZA=s4032)
Old House at Home, Overton was more like it. The pub that today had been crying out for. Homely, or is it housely, old, I guess it did what it said on the tin. Roaring fire, welcoming guv'nor, a few raggedy lined red faces, gents in hi-vis and paint stained overalls. Every late October / early November, I deliberately ensure I fall for the flashing LED Hobgoblin pumpclip, and here was my one and only opportunity. Perhaps not the easiest pint to neck, but hardly ESB is it? I slightly betrayed my unwritten BRAPA code of conduct by seating myself with my back to the customers, focused on pint and fire, I could afford no distractions, plus I had to allow myself a toilet trip! So under the circs, very little to add other than it evoked some of the memories of my Winchester pubs last night, just a shame it was such a rushed job!
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMMhLj0V9irVYYvXjSEYibns3DacMujEk5UXQVVOf7BC gl7TImtej0dAukJPrx45fZ_ulVkelrUpHlZoaS1U7e0SgxELdD ADCjbrS8gt89gAbtMDkbj3W81V8wCWYfBsM087ueJzOQsOJ5XS GRybeeb30IZ1YK-_ZsNrpl6yO63miFaWXL-cBJW34A8g=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMMhLj0V9irVYYvXjSEYibns3DacMujEk5UXQVVOf7BC gl7TImtej0dAukJPrx45fZ_ulVkelrUpHlZoaS1U7e0SgxELdD ADCjbrS8gt89gAbtMDkbj3W81V8wCWYfBsM087ueJzOQsOJ5XS GRybeeb30IZ1YK-_ZsNrpl6yO63miFaWXL-cBJW34A8g=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNAnbsgCt4LU10VL0YGMynwzst4H-fEj_8LhUZ5J8Wz98brbSESg_4WUjKbR_ybNoo9jQFmJrJy4piK D_SmxWeWWc5NK7lq6gLLizup6hDBr1-TCYmlrpDi6kcEvkEn-qYWxPXb_vjXC0Sy8PliOlYK8BOC3oqbLQVI5gJQE3xuKXUDnIo bCqkvhgVbQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNAnbsgCt4LU10VL0YGMynwzst4H-fEj_8LhUZ5J8Wz98brbSESg_4WUjKbR_ybNoo9jQFmJrJy4piK D_SmxWeWWc5NK7lq6gLLizup6hDBr1-TCYmlrpDi6kcEvkEn-qYWxPXb_vjXC0Sy8PliOlYK8BOC3oqbLQVI5gJQE3xuKXUDnIo bCqkvhgVbQ=s2708)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSGC6To17EQ3SdPdX7fWoNXDiFr0-43w4jM9REFyVKeebiHavhMio85cFaLkAUSUY72w0EWEm-mCVr_vDTJN5m0bg04TbfDs4ofj5oUCRMqTo-oXnm69csSB-7dYl0EDK1I3vn5XCXfEqRupIR085GEEn9rUl_vZN3GUDFQtVKY 8Qm2nbFsBUKrRK_bQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSGC6To17EQ3SdPdX7fWoNXDiFr0-43w4jM9REFyVKeebiHavhMio85cFaLkAUSUY72w0EWEm-mCVr_vDTJN5m0bg04TbfDs4ofj5oUCRMqTo-oXnm69csSB-7dYl0EDK1I3vn5XCXfEqRupIR085GEEn9rUl_vZN3GUDFQtVKY 8Qm2nbFsBUKrRK_bQ=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOd8hUUOVAXI7qU5VY6LbeEUd11X3-fWsCWyb6T537zB19Bx9tjGoK74ir-m3XQU_7ev1mzwBVrKUhFmRSSJjyeAirKKtBBWf5BvslrWne21F YmR63LsaW5qamJ_V3JKP0Sy93PLzjg6C6eLDRaib0TdSk_4IQ0 rFiXl9TSe8b502afoeuqWgjARwH5Q=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOd8hUUOVAXI7qU5VY6LbeEUd11X3-fWsCWyb6T537zB19Bx9tjGoK74ir-m3XQU_7ev1mzwBVrKUhFmRSSJjyeAirKKtBBWf5BvslrWne21F YmR63LsaW5qamJ_V3JKP0Sy93PLzjg6C6eLDRaib0TdSk_4IQ0 rFiXl9TSe8b502afoeuqWgjARwH5Q=s4032)
I timed the bus just right, and soon as back in Basingstoke. The question now was 'final tick in Basingstoke?' or 'final tick in Winchester?' It depended how the trains were timed, And one to Winchester was imminent so that was what I went for.
Fulflood Arms, Winchester sure was a tricky place to find, seemingly tucked away down a series of sidestreets in the opposite direction to everything else in town! It felt a never ending walk. Especially as Daddy BRAPA needed me to 'phone in' my Hull City prediction for tonight's exciting clash at West Brom, where predicting an 8-0 defeat seemed the safest bet. He needed me to do this before Mum put his tea on the table. I got there just in the nick of time!
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZiZPDpTTpEtICcYGA8FQm5VD6zdoTwjrtTJdj2gJ6hM Gq2NNz8zZa1Lt-H0yiIMCOdIY7CPM_5gNUc1HtZpa4nrlj7p-xXKL4sCJHxPkTxFcpSsNKuc3GasA95ynX6N2PQ46mEB1TjoyON 5VjLhun-0KubO1Y53HelEh68MADbrfXGILXE-cv-06vYg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZiZPDpTTpEtICcYGA8FQm5VD6zdoTwjrtTJdj2gJ6hM Gq2NNz8zZa1Lt-H0yiIMCOdIY7CPM_5gNUc1HtZpa4nrlj7p-xXKL4sCJHxPkTxFcpSsNKuc3GasA95ynX6N2PQ46mEB1TjoyON 5VjLhun-0KubO1Y53HelEh68MADbrfXGILXE-cv-06vYg=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWxI699NSinAizDuUcxa6Nwmiwh8CKs8e4EZKpc-fsuU_1QyRyPTAiHkDCaNTZnRiu2kFn9jT8InzCp46wEEXtws4I QRk2XZa9pjpxnlWux4y-8jYM2nvMuwFh8xB4QfzH1p1UjZidSZ83ELmpSMF28qP663DDqx TE3yPu-E52u1g3trCYaXzzYC1IVQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWxI699NSinAizDuUcxa6Nwmiwh8CKs8e4EZKpc-fsuU_1QyRyPTAiHkDCaNTZnRiu2kFn9jT8InzCp46wEEXtws4I QRk2XZa9pjpxnlWux4y-8jYM2nvMuwFh8xB4QfzH1p1UjZidSZ83ELmpSMF28qP663DDqx TE3yPu-E52u1g3trCYaXzzYC1IVQ=s4032)
A Winchester brewed porter was the perfect night cap, and after a quick chat with Daddy BRAPA, I soon secreted myself into one of the delicious dark corners, behind some sturdy looking old beams. Winchester had delivered yet another classic on which to end my Winchester GBG section. I fell into the same kind of half hypnotised state I had done in the Hyde Tavern the previous night, listening to the varied conversations of the three young quirksters (no, not Pauline's kids) at the bar. If they weren't talking about Patrick Viera, they were talking about Goldcards. And if they weren't talking about either of them, they were pleased that lino seemed to be making a comeback. Unless I misheard and they meant Lion-O from Thundercats which would be even more spectacular.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiRCKU557GqMYW6-lebBvoh8oIJIj5iA7r2BNqnH0FVih_5oSiiq7pshSVzxuozmNT iPu1vVQadV3nXMfCLnZwDODpAWP_BbZQsGjJNeXqIlBVpRKMls R4SCabWOKFeWo8Eijf8N7XfQ9Q6wZUmmKOOAc1x4zbUV_Gw6pI W0cMv9v959UXRChfYRAIAw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiRCKU557GqMYW6-lebBvoh8oIJIj5iA7r2BNqnH0FVih_5oSiiq7pshSVzxuozmNT iPu1vVQadV3nXMfCLnZwDODpAWP_BbZQsGjJNeXqIlBVpRKMls R4SCabWOKFeWo8Eijf8N7XfQ9Q6wZUmmKOOAc1x4zbUV_Gw6pI W0cMv9v959UXRChfYRAIAw=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxGQEpEl57SI4-i96tQ5kj8Fby5TuHWrmivcTaxLZ1_-jmO-4B7zUq6qGQLauz_egLfJnoZOOSjKP5IYmk_POSJ2MAqMMzHQ3y nrjKxuDamzx7QFgu_8biAy8pfUFQIz4GFLb6QFRvoNP4Nly88U PCaeK60EeeJs_HebSSlYW-m9EXT9o4Y0K_cxy6oQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxGQEpEl57SI4-i96tQ5kj8Fby5TuHWrmivcTaxLZ1_-jmO-4B7zUq6qGQLauz_egLfJnoZOOSjKP5IYmk_POSJ2MAqMMzHQ3y nrjKxuDamzx7QFgu_8biAy8pfUFQIz4GFLb6QFRvoNP4Nly88U PCaeK60EeeJs_HebSSlYW-m9EXT9o4Y0K_cxy6oQ=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi12NQb0IzKg_y0dUnTWWzLI4gMB4bV3h5jInaEQhxZBx Z2l0BMravXtFKJU3nt-GmwzWwVGQizOm5kA8jWEZQ_HoFYIk_NfpXIMRWmF-AO_ggieKXxQorNoHTQv9LEMtjxtMh_S8zp0NucKuDYMDsdTmrk Gb6PISpiMn10sgDIO1xnSg5vTfEc5VxN_Q=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi12NQb0IzKg_y0dUnTWWzLI4gMB4bV3h5jInaEQhxZBx Z2l0BMravXtFKJU3nt-GmwzWwVGQizOm5kA8jWEZQ_HoFYIk_NfpXIMRWmF-AO_ggieKXxQorNoHTQv9LEMtjxtMh_S8zp0NucKuDYMDsdTmrk Gb6PISpiMn10sgDIO1xnSg5vTfEc5VxN_Q=s4032)
It'd been a long day, and I was glad to be able to grab a bag of food from Tesco (STILL no individual packs of crisps, what is going on?) and retreat to my Travelodge. Hull City amazingly only lost by 1. Time for some shut eye, some even more difficult pubs coming up on day three.
Join me on Thursday for tales of that, because this week, Thirsty Thursday is (insert word for thirsty beginning with a 'W') on a Wednesday.
Si
More... (http://brapa-4500.blogspot.com/2021/11/brapa-is-brought-on-as-sub-adding-to-my.html)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2H-V6pUjKoIlc0m_bbShfwRfYVt-1mL7IuKg1ybfyphQeSRXRPw0F0wmqOwAgf--DtTTP9spPYP4WsbqgMYnHOU7UZInsqJlATrFWdiQufHgoKLyD-S37HnkVhYIECRRMjaJBMcMpqgshZYcqIYLQsl9d2WUc_8LV4_j KHIRmjiDzdnhUxoj2tPXMhg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi2H-V6pUjKoIlc0m_bbShfwRfYVt-1mL7IuKg1ybfyphQeSRXRPw0F0wmqOwAgf--DtTTP9spPYP4WsbqgMYnHOU7UZInsqJlATrFWdiQufHgoKLyD-S37HnkVhYIECRRMjaJBMcMpqgshZYcqIYLQsl9d2WUc_8LV4_j KHIRmjiDzdnhUxoj2tPXMhg=s4032)
Staring down into the village well in Broughton on the morning of Wednesday 3rd November, I was getting strange flashbacks from the night before where I nearly fell into that vat of Pressed Warthog ale at Triple fff brewery.
It had been a frustrating morning. Up early to do one of my half dozen or so 'impossible on public transport' ticks this week, my plans to walk 4.5 miles from Mottisfont & Dunbridge station had been scuppered by 'the Salisbury Incident' (the train one, not the Russian one).
Having missed the bus to Stockbridge where I could've attempted a hair raising walk along the A30 (glad I didn't, plus I didn't know a #Pubman lived there - more on that later), all that remained was to take an expensive taxi. At least there was a 13:09 bus back to Winchester!
It was your typical remote village, a few curtain twitchers kept an eye on me, the village phone box was now a lending library, cor you could've been in rural Cambs.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTwqn5Zgg2EvQ7ValA3JZnPr0EPv3Csn0xOOkqRu4sOX 6riMcOrJ0hOdkMC8RCARXZkPcfeFOikpZKHcOu4jQQhSx8aTLI ba37QZVXJHSFe1Rl0q4IFts8nshLVA4OsPSz2XRFAyphNbyOPP tZJekRu3s-gsXoBYdIuYHwx1MYNANVJaZ4kwMYhtQDgg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTwqn5Zgg2EvQ7ValA3JZnPr0EPv3Csn0xOOkqRu4sOX 6riMcOrJ0hOdkMC8RCARXZkPcfeFOikpZKHcOu4jQQhSx8aTLI ba37QZVXJHSFe1Rl0q4IFts8nshLVA4OsPSz2XRFAyphNbyOPP tZJekRu3s-gsXoBYdIuYHwx1MYNANVJaZ4kwMYhtQDgg=s4032)
At 11:50am, I witnessed a conversation between a jolly man who had 'youthful pub landlord' written all over him, and a dude in a car. "Popping in for a pint?" asked the former. "Ooohaarrr I moight" says the latter. "You open already?" I interjected. "We've been open since 11 moite!" he replies. You won't find that info on social media. Let's get our first impossible tick of the week done.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjS66N5MuiLkl5D0UPYeoPj2syOvWrqwJv2yVwHu26WPI PjpC53bPpoi8iqIgleZ7a4cNOrkOLuCp_aIt-n0BSPLEZJKCfV5XfisMsBCCwBIWnJYefqa45F-KeFkMinFzDYKE0msXCRq_zS4fvbbYMrN0PEMtTLI-uiDmTKXMEM3B15igUlZhQy950Ltg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjS66N5MuiLkl5D0UPYeoPj2syOvWrqwJv2yVwHu26WPI PjpC53bPpoi8iqIgleZ7a4cNOrkOLuCp_aIt-n0BSPLEZJKCfV5XfisMsBCCwBIWnJYefqa45F-KeFkMinFzDYKE0msXCRq_zS4fvbbYMrN0PEMtTLI-uiDmTKXMEM3B15igUlZhQy950Ltg=s4032)
Tally Ho! Broughton was the name, an interesting clash of styles within. Village farm shop in feel, part dining, part traditional local, it was certainly not dark and brooding like many pubs I'd visit this week. The bar area was especially disconcerting. Incredibly low and deep, meaning they had room aplenty to display their village store-esque wares behind it. It was like someone had built an area half way across the room, and called it a bar, than built a bar in the traditional sense. I'm allowed to order the 'wrong' beer, and then taunted that I should've been patient and waited for the Exmoor Fox to go on! It is all done in good humour but is still odd behaviour. Pulling it through takes the barmaid an age, she's getting taunted too to go quicker with her pulling technique. Me and Col are laughing from afar. Jarvis the pub dog comes to settle next to us, a lively contender lacking concentration span. The stand out moment is when a bloke (quite serious and posh looking, meeting another chap here for lunch) asks if the pub sells any biscuits! I don't think it all my years pub ticking have I ever heard anyone ask that in a pub. It throws the staff, who eventually flog him those tiny biscotti things you put on the side of coffee saucer. He munches a few down with gusto and half an Exmoor. #TasteHook I return for a half of Exmoor myself "seeing as you've worked so hard to get it on!" I say. "Awwww bless ya" say the staff. BRAPA cares.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi54LjhfHrIkC2zvHCO7IAxZ25o-7KLhbc-lmcZA390trlzS8Mmz0ccSMYXIqT4OTfUd1GG-9Iga9ae1hUrvCWKB6swaIjbbF--g3pbKscBrBqiG-frNmH0-sRB6Qeu62BJ7q08FO4vDTEYx6WHQ2ygoixTI9pmtGWQ1t7NqVb SID5kUBRWz2Y-cmtClQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi54LjhfHrIkC2zvHCO7IAxZ25o-7KLhbc-lmcZA390trlzS8Mmz0ccSMYXIqT4OTfUd1GG-9Iga9ae1hUrvCWKB6swaIjbbF--g3pbKscBrBqiG-frNmH0-sRB6Qeu62BJ7q08FO4vDTEYx6WHQ2ygoixTI9pmtGWQ1t7NqVb SID5kUBRWz2Y-cmtClQ=s3024)
Jarv and Col ultimately fail to bond
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEib5X9Sme7g0dqH7P59hZDx1ZZ1DcRrgnJ93-agB3dBlu6YvzUEe7dkOZtgnVRrzUPsqoSHOVJNXhSDFGiDTzUu XGukoZ5AyF45RoY-ABHbg2mP4PNoJYiQgpvOoLcn4hzCO4Vq0z6luYqqU9udYmdWzM JNmdHl0t7wLHRyfbEKRyGZPLRoqNA9_pYrBw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEib5X9Sme7g0dqH7P59hZDx1ZZ1DcRrgnJ93-agB3dBlu6YvzUEe7dkOZtgnVRrzUPsqoSHOVJNXhSDFGiDTzUu XGukoZ5AyF45RoY-ABHbg2mP4PNoJYiQgpvOoLcn4hzCO4Vq0z6luYqqU9udYmdWzM JNmdHl0t7wLHRyfbEKRyGZPLRoqNA9_pYrBw=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijTAjihrMBYG5QqI0nx07x8HLhHJzMJNU5b2T03T4rjV cbecyR-PvKMtLQ8plWEcDDK-rixNah3KK2A1TeHc9XXUxy97LUItYJ85sBtMie5n6-PhEpUa5yZ-OYHLar9-iftjRx37r_X-qqbOW7t6XlEBe7xbLdcwrDpndhVf7JXZKOfSvHgdGkVQ4qJA=s 320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEijTAjihrMBYG5QqI0nx07x8HLhHJzMJNU5b2T03T4rjV cbecyR-PvKMtLQ8plWEcDDK-rixNah3KK2A1TeHc9XXUxy97LUItYJ85sBtMie5n6-PhEpUa5yZ-OYHLar9-iftjRx37r_X-qqbOW7t6XlEBe7xbLdcwrDpndhVf7JXZKOfSvHgdGkVQ4qJA=s 4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX7kZbBwnPZx3_9P3Bv19Bp0lbAMnVG4o3z1UH8n_-qxGwhxxZ6wY_DgLzyQsS-mJOMD9Rw9BqBDaHsL0YTmtfgYzsvE4ffJA9U78ldQk_NevJML2 XmJTm4AI0JOUo9KhXKJjWnaETA2GpBKqr-rnddd1VnxiBl6T7HE9AWjaGzd7gryGhUJbD3rybYQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgX7kZbBwnPZx3_9P3Bv19Bp0lbAMnVG4o3z1UH8n_-qxGwhxxZ6wY_DgLzyQsS-mJOMD9Rw9BqBDaHsL0YTmtfgYzsvE4ffJA9U78ldQk_NevJML2 XmJTm4AI0JOUo9KhXKJjWnaETA2GpBKqr-rnddd1VnxiBl6T7HE9AWjaGzd7gryGhUJbD3rybYQ=s2839)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9XjSMLnuBXEo8COLCPsI9ePpphcxBZpBd4DP3Cs-n-3jRvrPYtw8cz6Hy__J29S1WAoEEYGzD8DeGdq2TANbmm6fLgAX R2NJKG-RdXJP6DjdUd9op7FHXsUMp_0mHJ3_oTKjN-gybVDskBQ1TvLiUZdg7vJz9_9SJne1gE9DJP5eAOfHMG7hv4Af CPg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi9XjSMLnuBXEo8COLCPsI9ePpphcxBZpBd4DP3Cs-n-3jRvrPYtw8cz6Hy__J29S1WAoEEYGzD8DeGdq2TANbmm6fLgAX R2NJKG-RdXJP6DjdUd9op7FHXsUMp_0mHJ3_oTKjN-gybVDskBQ1TvLiUZdg7vJz9_9SJne1gE9DJP5eAOfHMG7hv4Af CPg=s4029)
Peculiar but nice, would be my pub summary, and it wasn't finished yet. As I waited for the bus, a hi-vis dribbling yokel stops for a ten minute chat, and a removal van makes me cross the road - I assume he's wanting to park his van in the space behind the bus stop, but he drives straight past! Why do people keep testing me? Must be the Test Valley way. Haha. Sorry.
Back in Winchester, and being Wednesday, there still isn't a lot open mid afternoon midweek. Basingstoke & Whitchurch to save the day?
My train doesn't take long, I enjoy a spot of lunch and send RetiredMartin some GBG pages on the move, he wants Derbyshire and Manchester today. Demanding. Can't he go to the Winchester until all this blows over? #TickersUnion kept him right in his embargo period hour of need.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnIHH2qkLOiKBdq4VdVl4OROqYOj3U8prcR8rBT3s5Wa DA8W8aCACNVCkJp_Z7qdOnzl4djndW9I8hVM0ebUK6n6wwZ4gT 0xZgsssMHM31PG8RCj5o1tYosjMyzcN4h27njiWAAMkoLVZoMl ntiZoupLBvGLD3KhKEZOQ7k1heIOIGW5mDGmQ4Pw94mQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjnIHH2qkLOiKBdq4VdVl4OROqYOj3U8prcR8rBT3s5Wa DA8W8aCACNVCkJp_Z7qdOnzl4djndW9I8hVM0ebUK6n6wwZ4gT 0xZgsssMHM31PG8RCj5o1tYosjMyzcN4h27njiWAAMkoLVZoMl ntiZoupLBvGLD3KhKEZOQ7k1heIOIGW5mDGmQ4Pw94mQ=s3840 )
The train to Whitchurch was about half an hour off, but luckily one of my two new Basingstokees was hanging off the edge of the station car park like a lady in a strappy dress. It looked kind of extreme if that really was new accommodation tagged onto the rear .....
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNBjTfGKNA7NJXTib88KxWR9-GpgPrSEu7K-N_zaZrytuJ7VkugyKiCQh58uFan8LcPbqlkwnEK4ZA9gVltWRb c0p5oSzCsm4CQifvw0b6dBW4PqlVzxj87voo7plvtnlNGem-zYROHVvlaM9TrZQQqeyqwKxHId_NTCNmHawMZMKXrtIHA1V_3f DENw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNBjTfGKNA7NJXTib88KxWR9-GpgPrSEu7K-N_zaZrytuJ7VkugyKiCQh58uFan8LcPbqlkwnEK4ZA9gVltWRb c0p5oSzCsm4CQifvw0b6dBW4PqlVzxj87voo7plvtnlNGem-zYROHVvlaM9TrZQQqeyqwKxHId_NTCNmHawMZMKXrtIHA1V_3f DENw=s3314)
Queen's Arms, Basingstoke was a reassuringly basic boozer. On another day, it could've joined every other Basingstoke pub I'd ever been to in the realm of 'borefest', but this experience was different. It all starts as the landlady serves the small Irish regular to my right a pint of Kronenboug instead of his regular Fosters. "Not sure I can handle Krony anymore" he says, the first time I've heard an Irish person question their tolerance of booze. She kind of blames the fact that she's also serving me, but it leads to the three of us stood at the bar in mid weekday afternoon splendour having a very pleasant chat. He wonders what my accent is, which opens up plenty of BRAPA chat. They are both massive fans of Swanage (first time I've heard this too) and we all relive our experiences of the Square & Compass at Worth Matravers and replacement buses driving you to your front door. Well, he downs his drink and leaves, and just as I am also saying farewell, two new blokes walk in, and open conversation with the landlady. The circle of pub life. This pub definitely had something about it.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnnUnX6L52q8cbjfC_rAzappDzucxVMLTosAG3_hFGog L_eTnKhbrpsLmqBQ1zGpFh-kJCifjTM9WAmfcbE8_4RVokt1U0UEsMIDs6f_yMFxpfr4St0bN 7iP6YIvm3y8izCwl9nxtVdslRm1iCzfzfNWyEes9fwHm92Z_-vfPH3U68LuU1xhy6nJbM8w=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnnUnX6L52q8cbjfC_rAzappDzucxVMLTosAG3_hFGog L_eTnKhbrpsLmqBQ1zGpFh-kJCifjTM9WAmfcbE8_4RVokt1U0UEsMIDs6f_yMFxpfr4St0bN 7iP6YIvm3y8izCwl9nxtVdslRm1iCzfzfNWyEes9fwHm92Z_-vfPH3U68LuU1xhy6nJbM8w=s4032)
Orange Doom Bar, mmmm, like an Orange Kit Kat?
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPp8ASiGZRaLcgjCsPSP8YSfWFuxqH-N1qU6zhleNcJ8wxtuMZ-yICRUnuQLT4o-NP7DL3EQAKlrspL9u4C3bcfVnWWZtyvW9_Fes3FvAmnNM3Y_ew EwNG9TC7Fj9OkP2NnmpgeEItfbjg5YMbwLv1dkUxWavP40QZ3y 8i7w-mgZ_MpCcT1Uv5qTD9sQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPp8ASiGZRaLcgjCsPSP8YSfWFuxqH-N1qU6zhleNcJ8wxtuMZ-yICRUnuQLT4o-NP7DL3EQAKlrspL9u4C3bcfVnWWZtyvW9_Fes3FvAmnNM3Y_ew EwNG9TC7Fj9OkP2NnmpgeEItfbjg5YMbwLv1dkUxWavP40QZ3y 8i7w-mgZ_MpCcT1Uv5qTD9sQ=s4032)
The pub being boozerish
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimxum4EMokEi-7L52ogKw5MCzU1JmMvZd_B-8IizAgq4NbVsT--x20rnXHoiYRk00zKy9Wzlx0yD7ZKZDG9CUGkM3J1nIN0JxN1q3 60uvscHxvzY4sSR5ye9hybRL2ykD2jGoAYUdsRZSVChTGS3rfF R9KdbxI043ZnmZ_NeuAE9IwFT4WUFBpBG6DZw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEimxum4EMokEi-7L52ogKw5MCzU1JmMvZd_B-8IizAgq4NbVsT--x20rnXHoiYRk00zKy9Wzlx0yD7ZKZDG9CUGkM3J1nIN0JxN1q3 60uvscHxvzY4sSR5ye9hybRL2ykD2jGoAYUdsRZSVChTGS3rfF R9KdbxI043ZnmZ_NeuAE9IwFT4WUFBpBG6DZw=s4032)
Did the Irish man get the lager he wanted? 'Fraid not
I still had another Basingstoke pub to do, SIX in the Guide, but make no mistake, even if you are one of those people who call it Amazingstoke, it isn't exactly Winchester pub town quality. Happier than Andover, but then again, where isn't?
But no time for the Basingstoke pub yet, I had a prior engagement at Whitchurch, well once my phone stopped being a nob and let me download my ticket. I ran for the connection, phew!
The first one was a decent trek away from the centre, and I nearly walked past it, it looked more like a convalescence for French nuns than a pub, but maybe it was just me .......
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPVL9pQKxFHTSPlImg_qLxDwf0dzAYQe3w5iGTYxKx2E D0z4Zrxw4JpbwvzMfbeQwPmZWOv99lGnXdTJWq98jb9vQWU81s 4RX9jRlZhnnK5YtvadyQ1QGIRdhzCJqGSSthZPgz6ya0j1fxoe RkOEma5Ja6_7J-jUZt6tOiG-GhWX5nf5VysNSqc6AL8Q=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPVL9pQKxFHTSPlImg_qLxDwf0dzAYQe3w5iGTYxKx2E D0z4Zrxw4JpbwvzMfbeQwPmZWOv99lGnXdTJWq98jb9vQWU81s 4RX9jRlZhnnK5YtvadyQ1QGIRdhzCJqGSSthZPgz6ya0j1fxoe RkOEma5Ja6_7J-jUZt6tOiG-GhWX5nf5VysNSqc6AL8Q=s4032)
Can you see her hiding in the doorway? I did encourage the chirpy barmaid at the Prince Regent, Whitchurch to embrace her 5 seconds of BRAPA fame, but she sensibly declined. It was an honest type of boozer, not unlike the last, but most notably fellow pub ticker Eddie Fogden was in town for his Hitchcockian cameo, before a football ground tick / Wonston Arms debut. He had me a pint of Crop Circle on the table when I arrived, what a gent, it is nice once in every ten pubs to walk into a pub and see a friendly face. It was his first time seeing the new 'under embargo' GBG, and soon this equally chirpy bloke comes over and is shaking our hands, slagging off the other Whitchurch pubs, especially the one I'm visiting next. Cross town pub rivalry. I love it. A lovely smell of curry is emanating from every pore of this pub making us hungry. Eddie has a lift so has to dash, so all that remains is to hear our elusive barmaid telling Mr Rivalry about how horrid she was to her Mum when she was a teenager. Decent boozer, but I dunno, something about it that just felt a little tired.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioIq524vB5tDgaNGb1p_j2h4pLzATiytkH2KgQDvU3_P YeFem-Qo4z-GxZmYU0k1yXc4GPjXaxhUNPB5fJTs_pr_1Q3o7NCduWTL9Ho-ZAzeYVY6OgGb_Gws0ttvRlh1BDIzaSbUnPlh8FEYu-M-0S1XAWHasEcO3cYElAulyGDR6_2aLzwKyTlZOO7Q=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEioIq524vB5tDgaNGb1p_j2h4pLzATiytkH2KgQDvU3_P YeFem-Qo4z-GxZmYU0k1yXc4GPjXaxhUNPB5fJTs_pr_1Q3o7NCduWTL9Ho-ZAzeYVY6OgGb_Gws0ttvRlh1BDIzaSbUnPlh8FEYu-M-0S1XAWHasEcO3cYElAulyGDR6_2aLzwKyTlZOO7Q=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPHzv0zE56VK3X1VBCo0dNtCAk3unUsswHsA77ZfZVRp 2wsdvK38TBn-DPLvPIWj4g3BSm_-_agZRx81Q6DR63smLgT-yNBJJ6IGQ5ZJJdZgJ9MuSfUe04Vzq9m0ulOfXXKSqlbHvZYg1q _jfOm0VZKwnK9fD1O_lF-iSip0bKcsSajraa5WcGDF8knw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjPHzv0zE56VK3X1VBCo0dNtCAk3unUsswHsA77ZfZVRp 2wsdvK38TBn-DPLvPIWj4g3BSm_-_agZRx81Q6DR63smLgT-yNBJJ6IGQ5ZJJdZgJ9MuSfUe04Vzq9m0ulOfXXKSqlbHvZYg1q _jfOm0VZKwnK9fD1O_lF-iSip0bKcsSajraa5WcGDF8knw=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnGncmshd_WaBbIxyXkxjLRch_LODSTcDYsrCtt5ulQH WyxhsRdO0gKBXlAju6uWEqBbxAvZqqjIi1u--lUPzW8xh9N4P-27N8RWcQ99Vui9_bZC-FWxj6U2tzl5Ps7RYKZlGlvSq3kMY6VFKpv83WyTirvLB0JQhG4 FMLWuwCoVVnbiOVT0XoZgYQ-g=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgnGncmshd_WaBbIxyXkxjLRch_LODSTcDYsrCtt5ulQH WyxhsRdO0gKBXlAju6uWEqBbxAvZqqjIi1u--lUPzW8xh9N4P-27N8RWcQ99Vui9_bZC-FWxj6U2tzl5Ps7RYKZlGlvSq3kMY6VFKpv83WyTirvLB0JQhG4 FMLWuwCoVVnbiOVT0XoZgYQ-g=s4032)
A quick march into the centre of town brought me to our other Whitchurch tick just as dusk was starting to fall on day two of BRAPA.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgazC5PEX4gfOnypdEMshyqdXuQhAeDeefztAUwKPOkAR EGaItGfr1ON9UGQ9A_18lHg39enJRMParweNI5TWdaLPbhyjeb jdn0DRfbht9FdzzTiz5M9wnoEF_8YP629h_cy-NxGjXH9d5AbR_C6A1-ZhqFbp2YRkOrV0aN5HZKo--4dhne-TbU-ckDDw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgazC5PEX4gfOnypdEMshyqdXuQhAeDeefztAUwKPOkAR EGaItGfr1ON9UGQ9A_18lHg39enJRMParweNI5TWdaLPbhyjeb jdn0DRfbht9FdzzTiz5M9wnoEF_8YP629h_cy-NxGjXH9d5AbR_C6A1-ZhqFbp2YRkOrV0aN5HZKo--4dhne-TbU-ckDDw=s4032)
The writing was on the wall quite literally as I stepped up to Kings Arms, Whitchurch. A pub I found dull as dishwater and it left me cold, or at least the beer did. I'd love to agree with the bloke in this last pub, who branded it a 'joke' but the place was such a soulless limp lettuce, I couldn't summon the energy to have any particular hatred for it. It'd be like kicking a disinterested kitten. 'Posh dog snob' walks in at same time as me, and nearly ends up buying my pint, a usually excellent 'Village Idiot' kept at an icy temperature so you couldn't really taste it. "Very apt!" smirks PDS as I order it. First I think he's meaning me! But then he rolls his eyes at the cackling student ladies, who's laughter is torture in the cavernous acoustic nightmare that is this pub. The staff lack any semblance of humanity. The Prince Regent was hardly a pub of the year contender, but compared with this, it was a gem.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkVI6JTkCO1eUXsgDWsyvo6q42GJjFzRJsltn10CXowk qjTZgER6Aas1XaQlWdKAXJrExr-X4b-TdcgIBLDLbwbuh7kQljnu0ENIZVcRiintNgvJYuGVjDX5oIS5g kePVO3jMTD4CPzGPMRmSJx2BevH8y0jzzhXR9fwYD1eMyrUalV PvGbHsFlB3tgw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkVI6JTkCO1eUXsgDWsyvo6q42GJjFzRJsltn10CXowk qjTZgER6Aas1XaQlWdKAXJrExr-X4b-TdcgIBLDLbwbuh7kQljnu0ENIZVcRiintNgvJYuGVjDX5oIS5g kePVO3jMTD4CPzGPMRmSJx2BevH8y0jzzhXR9fwYD1eMyrUalV PvGbHsFlB3tgw=s4032)
"A better pub - 0.5 miles"
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhCDzhR2Xt3mIV4MF9F_Cx-oDMEr1_oTyil798U-tDfJZfrm88nbnjjcyGT3E1YLOkT68CTZTGqoFqqZ0OZnlldvnq rRBgjgLUNMF7B1nsyWwmqkB2SeZ1lB_wUIldyGR9H9khmNQhpv cX9yBgvkFGcXhw0tK5KoMHVfJgr2RvUDMSpq3vROiATRak0g=s 320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjhCDzhR2Xt3mIV4MF9F_Cx-oDMEr1_oTyil798U-tDfJZfrm88nbnjjcyGT3E1YLOkT68CTZTGqoFqqZ0OZnlldvnq rRBgjgLUNMF7B1nsyWwmqkB2SeZ1lB_wUIldyGR9H9khmNQhpv cX9yBgvkFGcXhw0tK5KoMHVfJgr2RvUDMSpq3vROiATRak0g=s 3135)
Just say no
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgI8Vr0nJQ4XutnILZH2rWCukJaG14KyLlRkiopKEtTme UUtTEk2bwq8ZpHA39P5hs4unmM9oXnr1D99jeSK_gbkaeFHl8p wso63QY2W9dWSpf5P6qL6oCfEMV4z7ZFrB01flnDCMulsFDUNL yWgocoqf_Jzqh8DUgdPC7YJd2GMdEi4a6NFjnZUOwwyg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgI8Vr0nJQ4XutnILZH2rWCukJaG14KyLlRkiopKEtTme UUtTEk2bwq8ZpHA39P5hs4unmM9oXnr1D99jeSK_gbkaeFHl8p wso63QY2W9dWSpf5P6qL6oCfEMV4z7ZFrB01flnDCMulsFDUNL yWgocoqf_Jzqh8DUgdPC7YJd2GMdEi4a6NFjnZUOwwyg=s4032 )
Col tries to add a bit of irreverence to proceedings
It was drizzling with rain, and the rush hour traffic was out in force as I wait for the bus to Overton. Already in a bad mood from the last pub, some total idiot parks in the bus space, runs off down an alleyway for a piss, and then for an encore goes to buy a sandwich from the Co-op behind me. The bus is just coming down the road as he emerges, so he runs around, hops in and drives off just in the nick of time. I mouth 'wanker' and give him ironic applause, he sees me and starts gesticulating like he wants a fight, but I have pubs to do and he looks like he goes to the gym.
In fact, once at Overton, some mental maths tells me I only have 25 minutes absolute max ...... a bus journey made more painful as a girl demands to know where her boyfriend has been. He won't tell her. She has tears in her eyes. 'Sorry lass, I think you might be going out with a pub ticker!'
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKeelAvpfWyaJ2tf6homDm7vTg-C-Z11n4nl9U60pmUCJomq-5lEvpQxkQv5Kd4ShQ_9IgglrbPkJsZ7IgnNa9GSkYBDGicHDJc XXCzreYbtogetPoyaA0BJqzMzRq-THhcvp9kdbxPQTeNe2yp2Ee8RWGFxRFm-IKqC71VYh5NyRvAdwrym8TEgWnzQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKeelAvpfWyaJ2tf6homDm7vTg-C-Z11n4nl9U60pmUCJomq-5lEvpQxkQv5Kd4ShQ_9IgglrbPkJsZ7IgnNa9GSkYBDGicHDJc XXCzreYbtogetPoyaA0BJqzMzRq-THhcvp9kdbxPQTeNe2yp2Ee8RWGFxRFm-IKqC71VYh5NyRvAdwrym8TEgWnzQ=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5_1bv-KnZwnZGTiQ9RD3CL2mI5Maz4e9f1SAqgRyph78K6VeN3n2YF4G 5HiOPHHTAOSyCyUxfnkJ_ySgE5f0YtdAH_ee3zDbgaMl6ZBy-pXNRBmxZqOLNT-4oAioAXJ6L23cWjh_SHDacdQM9yTf6TKofoqv6mPXgHTQYlrbB AinV2MUhkW_GcYojZA=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj5_1bv-KnZwnZGTiQ9RD3CL2mI5Maz4e9f1SAqgRyph78K6VeN3n2YF4G 5HiOPHHTAOSyCyUxfnkJ_ySgE5f0YtdAH_ee3zDbgaMl6ZBy-pXNRBmxZqOLNT-4oAioAXJ6L23cWjh_SHDacdQM9yTf6TKofoqv6mPXgHTQYlrbB AinV2MUhkW_GcYojZA=s4032)
Old House at Home, Overton was more like it. The pub that today had been crying out for. Homely, or is it housely, old, I guess it did what it said on the tin. Roaring fire, welcoming guv'nor, a few raggedy lined red faces, gents in hi-vis and paint stained overalls. Every late October / early November, I deliberately ensure I fall for the flashing LED Hobgoblin pumpclip, and here was my one and only opportunity. Perhaps not the easiest pint to neck, but hardly ESB is it? I slightly betrayed my unwritten BRAPA code of conduct by seating myself with my back to the customers, focused on pint and fire, I could afford no distractions, plus I had to allow myself a toilet trip! So under the circs, very little to add other than it evoked some of the memories of my Winchester pubs last night, just a shame it was such a rushed job!
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMMhLj0V9irVYYvXjSEYibns3DacMujEk5UXQVVOf7BC gl7TImtej0dAukJPrx45fZ_ulVkelrUpHlZoaS1U7e0SgxELdD ADCjbrS8gt89gAbtMDkbj3W81V8wCWYfBsM087ueJzOQsOJ5XS GRybeeb30IZ1YK-_ZsNrpl6yO63miFaWXL-cBJW34A8g=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMMhLj0V9irVYYvXjSEYibns3DacMujEk5UXQVVOf7BC gl7TImtej0dAukJPrx45fZ_ulVkelrUpHlZoaS1U7e0SgxELdD ADCjbrS8gt89gAbtMDkbj3W81V8wCWYfBsM087ueJzOQsOJ5XS GRybeeb30IZ1YK-_ZsNrpl6yO63miFaWXL-cBJW34A8g=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNAnbsgCt4LU10VL0YGMynwzst4H-fEj_8LhUZ5J8Wz98brbSESg_4WUjKbR_ybNoo9jQFmJrJy4piK D_SmxWeWWc5NK7lq6gLLizup6hDBr1-TCYmlrpDi6kcEvkEn-qYWxPXb_vjXC0Sy8PliOlYK8BOC3oqbLQVI5gJQE3xuKXUDnIo bCqkvhgVbQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjNAnbsgCt4LU10VL0YGMynwzst4H-fEj_8LhUZ5J8Wz98brbSESg_4WUjKbR_ybNoo9jQFmJrJy4piK D_SmxWeWWc5NK7lq6gLLizup6hDBr1-TCYmlrpDi6kcEvkEn-qYWxPXb_vjXC0Sy8PliOlYK8BOC3oqbLQVI5gJQE3xuKXUDnIo bCqkvhgVbQ=s2708)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSGC6To17EQ3SdPdX7fWoNXDiFr0-43w4jM9REFyVKeebiHavhMio85cFaLkAUSUY72w0EWEm-mCVr_vDTJN5m0bg04TbfDs4ofj5oUCRMqTo-oXnm69csSB-7dYl0EDK1I3vn5XCXfEqRupIR085GEEn9rUl_vZN3GUDFQtVKY 8Qm2nbFsBUKrRK_bQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjSGC6To17EQ3SdPdX7fWoNXDiFr0-43w4jM9REFyVKeebiHavhMio85cFaLkAUSUY72w0EWEm-mCVr_vDTJN5m0bg04TbfDs4ofj5oUCRMqTo-oXnm69csSB-7dYl0EDK1I3vn5XCXfEqRupIR085GEEn9rUl_vZN3GUDFQtVKY 8Qm2nbFsBUKrRK_bQ=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOd8hUUOVAXI7qU5VY6LbeEUd11X3-fWsCWyb6T537zB19Bx9tjGoK74ir-m3XQU_7ev1mzwBVrKUhFmRSSJjyeAirKKtBBWf5BvslrWne21F YmR63LsaW5qamJ_V3JKP0Sy93PLzjg6C6eLDRaib0TdSk_4IQ0 rFiXl9TSe8b502afoeuqWgjARwH5Q=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhOd8hUUOVAXI7qU5VY6LbeEUd11X3-fWsCWyb6T537zB19Bx9tjGoK74ir-m3XQU_7ev1mzwBVrKUhFmRSSJjyeAirKKtBBWf5BvslrWne21F YmR63LsaW5qamJ_V3JKP0Sy93PLzjg6C6eLDRaib0TdSk_4IQ0 rFiXl9TSe8b502afoeuqWgjARwH5Q=s4032)
I timed the bus just right, and soon as back in Basingstoke. The question now was 'final tick in Basingstoke?' or 'final tick in Winchester?' It depended how the trains were timed, And one to Winchester was imminent so that was what I went for.
Fulflood Arms, Winchester sure was a tricky place to find, seemingly tucked away down a series of sidestreets in the opposite direction to everything else in town! It felt a never ending walk. Especially as Daddy BRAPA needed me to 'phone in' my Hull City prediction for tonight's exciting clash at West Brom, where predicting an 8-0 defeat seemed the safest bet. He needed me to do this before Mum put his tea on the table. I got there just in the nick of time!
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZiZPDpTTpEtICcYGA8FQm5VD6zdoTwjrtTJdj2gJ6hM Gq2NNz8zZa1Lt-H0yiIMCOdIY7CPM_5gNUc1HtZpa4nrlj7p-xXKL4sCJHxPkTxFcpSsNKuc3GasA95ynX6N2PQ46mEB1TjoyON 5VjLhun-0KubO1Y53HelEh68MADbrfXGILXE-cv-06vYg=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZiZPDpTTpEtICcYGA8FQm5VD6zdoTwjrtTJdj2gJ6hM Gq2NNz8zZa1Lt-H0yiIMCOdIY7CPM_5gNUc1HtZpa4nrlj7p-xXKL4sCJHxPkTxFcpSsNKuc3GasA95ynX6N2PQ46mEB1TjoyON 5VjLhun-0KubO1Y53HelEh68MADbrfXGILXE-cv-06vYg=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWxI699NSinAizDuUcxa6Nwmiwh8CKs8e4EZKpc-fsuU_1QyRyPTAiHkDCaNTZnRiu2kFn9jT8InzCp46wEEXtws4I QRk2XZa9pjpxnlWux4y-8jYM2nvMuwFh8xB4QfzH1p1UjZidSZ83ELmpSMF28qP663DDqx TE3yPu-E52u1g3trCYaXzzYC1IVQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgWxI699NSinAizDuUcxa6Nwmiwh8CKs8e4EZKpc-fsuU_1QyRyPTAiHkDCaNTZnRiu2kFn9jT8InzCp46wEEXtws4I QRk2XZa9pjpxnlWux4y-8jYM2nvMuwFh8xB4QfzH1p1UjZidSZ83ELmpSMF28qP663DDqx TE3yPu-E52u1g3trCYaXzzYC1IVQ=s4032)
A Winchester brewed porter was the perfect night cap, and after a quick chat with Daddy BRAPA, I soon secreted myself into one of the delicious dark corners, behind some sturdy looking old beams. Winchester had delivered yet another classic on which to end my Winchester GBG section. I fell into the same kind of half hypnotised state I had done in the Hyde Tavern the previous night, listening to the varied conversations of the three young quirksters (no, not Pauline's kids) at the bar. If they weren't talking about Patrick Viera, they were talking about Goldcards. And if they weren't talking about either of them, they were pleased that lino seemed to be making a comeback. Unless I misheard and they meant Lion-O from Thundercats which would be even more spectacular.
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiRCKU557GqMYW6-lebBvoh8oIJIj5iA7r2BNqnH0FVih_5oSiiq7pshSVzxuozmNT iPu1vVQadV3nXMfCLnZwDODpAWP_BbZQsGjJNeXqIlBVpRKMls R4SCabWOKFeWo8Eijf8N7XfQ9Q6wZUmmKOOAc1x4zbUV_Gw6pI W0cMv9v959UXRChfYRAIAw=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjiRCKU557GqMYW6-lebBvoh8oIJIj5iA7r2BNqnH0FVih_5oSiiq7pshSVzxuozmNT iPu1vVQadV3nXMfCLnZwDODpAWP_BbZQsGjJNeXqIlBVpRKMls R4SCabWOKFeWo8Eijf8N7XfQ9Q6wZUmmKOOAc1x4zbUV_Gw6pI W0cMv9v959UXRChfYRAIAw=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxGQEpEl57SI4-i96tQ5kj8Fby5TuHWrmivcTaxLZ1_-jmO-4B7zUq6qGQLauz_egLfJnoZOOSjKP5IYmk_POSJ2MAqMMzHQ3y nrjKxuDamzx7QFgu_8biAy8pfUFQIz4GFLb6QFRvoNP4Nly88U PCaeK60EeeJs_HebSSlYW-m9EXT9o4Y0K_cxy6oQ=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjxGQEpEl57SI4-i96tQ5kj8Fby5TuHWrmivcTaxLZ1_-jmO-4B7zUq6qGQLauz_egLfJnoZOOSjKP5IYmk_POSJ2MAqMMzHQ3y nrjKxuDamzx7QFgu_8biAy8pfUFQIz4GFLb6QFRvoNP4Nly88U PCaeK60EeeJs_HebSSlYW-m9EXT9o4Y0K_cxy6oQ=s4032)
https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi12NQb0IzKg_y0dUnTWWzLI4gMB4bV3h5jInaEQhxZBx Z2l0BMravXtFKJU3nt-GmwzWwVGQizOm5kA8jWEZQ_HoFYIk_NfpXIMRWmF-AO_ggieKXxQorNoHTQv9LEMtjxtMh_S8zp0NucKuDYMDsdTmrk Gb6PISpiMn10sgDIO1xnSg5vTfEc5VxN_Q=s320 (https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi12NQb0IzKg_y0dUnTWWzLI4gMB4bV3h5jInaEQhxZBx Z2l0BMravXtFKJU3nt-GmwzWwVGQizOm5kA8jWEZQ_HoFYIk_NfpXIMRWmF-AO_ggieKXxQorNoHTQv9LEMtjxtMh_S8zp0NucKuDYMDsdTmrk Gb6PISpiMn10sgDIO1xnSg5vTfEc5VxN_Q=s4032)
It'd been a long day, and I was glad to be able to grab a bag of food from Tesco (STILL no individual packs of crisps, what is going on?) and retreat to my Travelodge. Hull City amazingly only lost by 1. Time for some shut eye, some even more difficult pubs coming up on day three.
Join me on Thursday for tales of that, because this week, Thirsty Thursday is (insert word for thirsty beginning with a 'W') on a Wednesday.
Si
More... (http://brapa-4500.blogspot.com/2021/11/brapa-is-brought-on-as-sub-adding-to-my.html)