Not a Pub Town
I had reasonably high hopes for Kingsbridge. It looks genteel. There are lots of middle class people milling around. You know the type. Deck shoes. No socks. Rugby top, collar upright. Many of the shops seem to be independent. There must be one drinking place that will justify our 2 mile walk in..... especially when you consider the hill we have to climb on the return.
The Creeks End Inn looked a little touristy for where I would normally stop. We have all day, the sun was shining and it seemed rude to walk on past.
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| Saturday Sunshine |
I love to experiment with locations and to an extent, with beers. I am beginning to question my hobbies and the amount of risk taking I am prepared to take, when rounds for two are coming in at near £15. A four-venue tour, which took a little over 2 hours to complete set me back well over half a tonne.
Normally, you cannot go wrong with Tribute, yet I felt very short changed. End of cask dregs I can excuse to an extent. The barrel has to come to an end at some point. Filthy glasses, I cannot.
The day's real prize was the Good Beer Guide listed Hermitage. I had checked opening hours on google and WhatPub and correlation for a 2pm opening was found. I ignored the lowest Google Review score of 3.9 for the pubs in town. I didn't need to mention it to Mrs M who simply said "We're not going in there are we?"
She should know better that I wouldn't be put off by a austere and unwelcoming exterior. I've been to the White House in Hockley at 10:30am.
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| Bunting not really making it cheery |
She had nothing to fear. Closed up on a Saturday afternoon at 2:30pm. I wasn't in town long enough to see if it opened at 4pm, suggested door unlocking for other less exciting days of the week. Which, frankly, is ridiculous for any hospitality venue on late spring weekend.
This allowed a bonus unplanned visit to the Old Warehouse. I thought that maybe a craft micro could provide some interest. Perhaps slightly more of a food venue, it was showcasing a number of keg offerings from a new brewery to me, Powderkeg. The Harmony Helles OK in the sunshine. The side order of cake going some way to placating Mrs M.
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| Cake Helles |
Marital goodwill swiftly extinguished by the King of Prussia. Never had I received such a side-eye, as we ventured in and wondered which horse racing TV screen we wanted to sit under. A collection of angry looking men who did not appear to be enjoying their afternoon all that much. They'd possibly backed the wrong horse. Or going by the loudest of the moaners, the wrong (ex) wife.
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| King of Prussia |
Cask Bass was a welcome find and the prices were keen but my god, it was served so cold. Condensation dripping down the glass. Taste and aroma frozen. Who knows why their cellar temperature is so cold? Maybe it is here they store the dead bodies of up-themselves pub bloggers.
Pint of the day was found at the Seven Stars - a ubiquitous Timothy Taylor Landlord. A nice patio area, but most of it roped off for a wedding that was happening later that day.
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| Landlord for the win |
Scores on the door: Two poor cask (quality and temperature), one average craft keg and one reasonable TT Landlord. Nothing, pub-wise, to make me want to complete the walk into town again.
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