A Trio of West Country Pubs Part 3

[Malcolm Buggeridge]

Divers seeking hidden treasure and a mad dash to make last orders make up the final installment of my chronicle of west country pub visits.

We started the day in St Audreys Bay where I parked the car on the promenade and we watched the children playing on the sands while we licked our raspberry mivvies.

Then our attention was suddenly drawn to a maelstrom near the waters edge from which emerged two men in neoprine suits each carrying a wire shopping basket and a metal detector. I rolled up my trouser bottom and went to greet them.

the 2 men were Dutch and made a living from scouring the littoral for lost money, trinkets and other such stuff dropped by holiday makers whilst frolicking in the waters. Both men claimed to be making a reasonable living from the activity, an assertion backed up by their baskets which were brimming with a plethora of gaudy trinketry.

A glance at my watch and we bade our farewells as we had the rather pressing affair of lunch at the Carew Arms, Crowcombe to attend to. Realising that we were behind schedule, I phoned through to the pub to find out at what time last food orders were taken. 1.45pm. What is it with these places? Anyway, we had 15 minutes to do the same number of miles so I said to the landlord to keep the kitchen open for us and I would buy everyone in the pub a drink. He kindly obliged and my wife and I strolled into the bar at 1.57 pm.

I went for the Asturian fabada; absolutely historic - morcilla, merguez and ham hock in a carlotti bean casserole. This was followed by lemon posset; equally as good especially when washed down with a nice bottle of Sauternes.

Anyway, I shall leave you with a selection of ditties pinned above the trough in the gents wc.

I told my psychiatrist everyone hates me.
He said don't be ridiculous, not everyone has met me yet.

Instead of getting married again I'm going to find a woman I don't like and buy her a house.

My wife and I were happy for 20 years.
Then we met.

Giving money and power to government is like giving whiskey and car keys to teenage boys.

Edit: premature click of save button

[eek]

Divers seeking hidden treasure and a mad dash to make last orders make up the final installment of my

(hopefully) final post.


You're just a boring pointless sockie.

[AtW]

(hopefully) final post.


You're just a boring pointless sockie.

WHS

Much much worse than Grice - this is dullness squared.

[Doggy Styles]

I once visited a pub where visitors to the toilets are invited to add their wit to the wall, but I'm buggered if I can remember where it was.

Incidentally Malc, did you visit the Bishops Lidyard railway? I must say, riding on the Bishops was one of the highlights of my visit to Taunton.

[Malcolm Buggeridge]

I once visited a pub where visitors to the toilets are invited to add their wit to the wall, but I'm buggered if I can remember where it was.

Incidentally Malc, did you visit the Bishops Lidyard railway? I must say, riding on the Bishops was one of the highlights of my visit to Taunton.

I have visited the West Somerset Railway, yes. My wife and I went on one of those murder mystery weekends a few years ago.

We both had visions of steaming through the rolling countryside a la Orient Express enjoying the best cordon bleu cookery whilst indulging our fellow passengers in our munificence but the reality of it was that we spent the evening lurching around on a 1970s cattle truck type DMU and I seem to recall being in a very sour mood as a result.

[Bunk]

I have visited the West Somerset Railway, yes. My wife and I went on one of those murder mystery weekends a few years ago.

We both had visions of steaming through the rolling countryside a la Orient Express enjoying the best cordon bleu cookery whilst indulging our fellow passengers in our munificence but the reality of it was that we spent the evening lurching around on a 1970s cattle truck type DMU and I seem to recall being in a very sour mood as a result.

Your wife? Does Gricer know about her?

[Doggy Styles]

I have visited the West Somerset Railway, yes. My wife and I went on one of those murder mystery weekends a few years ago.

We both had visions of steaming through the rolling countryside a la Orient Express enjoying the best cordon bleu cookery whilst indulging our fellow passengers in our munificence but the reality of it was that we spent the evening lurching around on a 1970s cattle truck type DMU and I seem to recall being in a very sour mood as a result.

Ah, that was a pity. Was that with the Whodunnit company? They were based in Devon, run by the lovely Pamela.

And yes I think you are right about the name of the railway, I called it the Bishops Lidyard because some locals did - it was many years ago but I seem to remember it started or traveled through such a place.

[Malcolm Buggeridge]

Ah, that was a pity. Was that with the Whodunnit company? They were based in Devon, run by the lovely Pamela.

And yes I think you are right about the name of the railway, I called it the Bishops Lidyard because some locals did - it was many years ago but I seem to remember it started or traveled through such a place.

No,no,no - the murder mystery was run by the rail company itself.

Indeed, the West Somerset Railway is the longest privately owned railway in Great Britain running some 20 miles from Bishops Lideard to Minehead.

[Malcolm Buggeridge]

Your wife? Does Gricer know about her?

Sir, I know not to which you refer

[BrilloPad]

I once visited a pub where visitors to the toilets are invited to add their wit to the wall, but I'm buggered if I can remember where it was.

My fav :-
Some come here to sit and think
Some come here to sh1t and stink
But I come here to scratch my b4lls
And read the writing on the walls.