With all my gallivanting up and down the country (see previous posts) I recently felt the acute need to reacquaint myself with my hometown.
I’ve lived in Turo for the last decade or so, but before I came to the big city I’d been a true country boy, a simple bumpkin who had lived almost his entire life within a 5 miles radius.
That all changed when I stepped out by myself as a travelling oven cleaner. With the freedom to see the rest of the county, I soon found that village life was no longer enough for me. I’d seen a glimpse of the outside world and the prospect of returning to the home comforts of my village pub was no longer quite as alluring. After a month of cleaning ovens on the road I’d packed my worldly belongings into wooden crates and was ready to make my move to the big city.
Ten years later and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. Although I’m well aware that it’s one of the smallest of cities in the country, it’s the perfect size for a man like myself who appreciates having a wealth of pubs on his doorstep. Drinkers like me always have our favourite haunts. We have the boozers that we visit when we’re feeling sociable, the darker rooms for when we’d rather be alone and the bright bistros for those rare days when we want to bask in the sun. What we rarely do is take a chance on new places.
Steeling myself for a change, I sought to address this by visiting three new (to me) boozers in the city:
I’d heard the William was a decent place for a pint but had never found a real reason to venture in. Perhaps it was the rather pristine pastel paint job that put me off, or the garish light that seemed to emanate from the building on a Friday – either way I’d decided to swerve the place up until this weekend. My worries about the place were confirmed upon my entry. The William IV is a very well looked after establishment, with attentive staff and non-offensive, easy on the eye decor…so not really my kind of place.
The Rising Sun
I usually try and only visit pubs that are within a short walk of my home which is why I’ve avoided The Rising Sun before this pub crawl. Although The Rising Sun looks like a traditional pub from the outside, it has ‘restaurant’ painted all over it as soon as you walk in. I’d like to say that I was disappointed, but the team here have done such a fantastic job that I got far too comfortable to be displeased by anything I saw.
The implausibly named Bustopher Jones completed my crawl in a somewhat fitting way. Once more I was allured into a place that had all the hallmarks of a pub and (once more) I was surprised to find myself in a place that was a far cry from what I actually wanted: a wine bar and restaurant. Fortunately for those working at Bustopher’s, I had become sufficiently lubricated enough to no longer care about the death of the British pub, so I slyly slipped a couple of glasses of chardonnay down before polishing off an extortionate Steak.