Sundays are for Professional Drinkers
6 Good Beer Guide Ticks available in Weston. A town that my limited research indicates has a high turnover of comings and goings. Two are limited opening hours on a Sunday. That's not in the spirit followed by the rest of town. They shall be saved for another day/year.
Regardless of mixed reviews from Devon (what's it got to do with them anyway?), the seafront is thronging. Perspex protected outside dining areas packed out with punters on their dirty burgers.
Seaside town called 'cesspit' and 'gorgeous' in visitor reviews https://t.co/HXkT4d8VjJ
— Devon Live News (@DevonLiveNews) August 13, 2024
The real pub action is just off the seafront. And the Criterion winning the prize for most drunk patronage. To a man/woman, the locals holding court at the bar seats are slaughtered. Sunday Funday taken to extremes.
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| Back Street Boozer |
Friendly arguments about whether people actually met each other in the bar last night indicates customer loyalty. A bored dog gnawing on one of the barstool legs suggesting his owner may not have gone home.
Proper Job in the right glass and evidence of long term guide dog sponsoring meant it was right up our strasse. I might need to come back on the Bank Holiday weekend to see what the 4pm sporting event consists of. I hadn't had time to keep my eye on the Olympics.
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| Not going to google. |
We make a mistake at the Regency. The outside terrace looks the most inviting, catching the setting sun over the rooftops. Advertising leaving me with a conundrum, settled by not actually spotting the Bass.
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| Champions Club TT |
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| Striking Frontage |
The mistake? Well, there are two tables out the front - one free and one occupied. A late middle aged would-be couple going through a mating routine that was as frank as much as it was loud. So uncomfortable, that Mrs M and myself we left comparing notes on facebook messenger. The fella explaining what he liked when not at the pub and she rather coyly retorting in that South West Burr "You're a dirty bugger, aren't you". Chat transcript available on request.
We were glad when then they left, but the courtship merely moved the road. We should have gone inside, but everyone was dancing to the Smiths. It's now 7pm.
Tranquility restored/gained at the easily pick of the bunch. The Black Cat, containing everything you want from a micro pub. Extensive beer and cider menu, great music, knowledgeable and friendly staff and a bring your own chips policy.
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| Micro |
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| Nice Decor |
20 different ciders and I defy anyone to not select Normandy cider once you have heard the landlord's spiel. Posted here, so I know what to get in for Mrs M for Xmas.
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| Next job today, google suppliers |
Chip papers taken away for disposal and onto the Brit Bar. A long courtyard, with a singer guitarist proclaiming he knows no Oasis. Wonderwall sparks up, just as I order by Cheddar Ales Gorge Best. For the first time ever, not calling it George.
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| Musical Pedigree |
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| The Bar at the Brit |
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| Keep Weston Weird |
Everything I want from a new town pub crawl - shady rom-coms, a soupcon of danger, musical entertainment, interesting drinks and chips.
Keep watching the blog to see if Mrs M comes on the next pubby adventure.
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