A pub is for life not just for Christmas
This month I am going for The Camel as POTM and it makes a good double header with the Florists Arms a 150 yards or so down the road .
Its just a straight forward back street boozer with a beer range that can be unremarkable at times (Sambrooks), but despite being quiet on a Tuesday afternoon it had a certain ambiance, the same as on a much busier weekend visit a couple of years ago. I like it.
Last edited by Mobyduck; 03-10-2015 at 09:13.
"Everybody's got to believe in something. I believe I'll have another beer."
-W.C.Fields
My pub of the month is a Southern one out in the sticks. The Cricketers at Berwick is a classic old Harvey's pub set just off the A27 between Polegate and Lewes. It's overlooked by the scarp slope of the South Downs, behind which is a more gentle descent into Seaford. The cellar is a room behind the bar where the beer is dispensed straight from the casks. Nowadays this room is temperature controlled but certainly didn't used to be.
Being very rural it does rely heavily on food but certainly isn't a gastropub. In some ways it is like a large micropub with no noise from TVs, music or fruit machines. The gardens front and rear are huge with enough seating for far more people than they could comfortably cope with. I first came here over thirty years ago and apart from the cellar room and a more elaborate food offering it has hardly changed.
POTM Cricketers Berwick
My POTM: The Bull Inn ,a Wealden classic.(Note to self,not every pub's a classic.)
"At that moment I would have given a kingdom, not for champagne or hock and soda, or hot coffee but for a glass of beer" Marquess Curzon of Kedlestone, Viceroy of India.
This month I'm plumping for the Ty Coch Inn, Morfa Nefyn, on the Llyn peninsula, North Wales. Probably one of the most isolated pubs I've ever visited, but worth the walk round the bay for the beachside setting. Sitting in the late summer sunshine, listening to the gentle breaking of the waves and gazing on the heather covered hills, in the distance, whilst sipping a pint of Purple Moose, was pure bliss.
'And where he supped the past lived still. And where he sipped the glass brimmed full' John Barleycorn, Carol Ann Duffy.