When is a pub not a pub?

Look at me...two blog posts within weeks of each other without the lame excuse of "being too busy"!

We've not long come back from a short holiday with some family members in Bournemouth (well, Boscombe near Bournemouth to be exact).

Dorset is a lovely part of the country and we were blessed with good weather but there wasn't much scope for our usual perambulations, the area being part of a large town conurbation.  Nevertheless, it was a lovely break and nice to spend a little more time than usual with family members.

The only GBG pub which was within sensible striking distance was a quirky little place called "Chaplins Bar" which we sought out having done a stroll along the beach and through a couple of pretty parks.

We were promised beers on both handpump and gravity.  So we arrived in the main bar which looked really nice and they only have a single pump on in that bar, the rest being in the cellar bar.  The single pump was a DBC brew which we're not really fans of so we said we'd go down to the cellar bar.  "Sorry he's not ready yet - wouldn't you like some of this one...it's really nice".  We thank the lady and say that we really don't want that beer and when will the cellar bar be open.  "Errrr...well, he's working on it... we've got some really nice bottled beers, wouldn't you like one of those?".  I started to get a bit tetchy, making S feel a little uncomfortable.  There was a tense few minutes until another member of staff said "he won't be long".  So we opted to sit in the very nice garden to wait but as we were going out there we were informed that the bar was now open.

We entered the stygian depths to see what was on offer.  Sister, who is not normally a beer drinker, suggests we get her something we think she'll like (no pressure then) so we got a couple of pints from the totally delightful lad looking after the bar and sat in the garden.

The beer was very good, the garden was delightful and even sister enjoyed her beer.  We stayed for a second and chatted amiably with a couple of regulars on the table next to us.

I think they managed to pull it back for me after a poor start and I'd go back there happily enough.

Next day we were venturing the other way along the beach and S and brother in law had ascertained there seemed to be a micropub we could visit.  BiL doesn't drink at all so has little interest in pubs, but is extraordinarily tolerant of the rest of us (thank you, B).  So, after a lovely cliff-path stroll we landed at the Wight Bear Ale House . As is usual with Micropubs this is a place that wasn't a pub but had been changed to one to get a disused shop open and trading again.

I approve of this since it's one up on the people are sending things in the other direction opening supermarkets in what should rightfully remain pubs.

The chap who runs the pub was a delight to talk to - and we learned a lot about how he went about setting the place up. 

It's all deceptively simple - with a cold room instead of a cellar; gravity dispense to keep things simple; benches and tables set at a height that suits sitters and standers and with the bonus that empty casks can be kept there.  There's also a fine (for charity) for anyone whose mobile phone rings audibly.
They have about 6 beers on at any one time plus a couple of ciders and the food they offer is in the order of pork pies, scotch eggs and crisps (but really good ones).  You can also take your takeaway into the pub and they'll supply crockery.
They don't have a bar, you order your beer from a member of staff and they deliver it to you at your table/stand/corner.

It makes me think, again, about whether we could do this in Eastbourne.  Hmmmm.

The bonus of a quiet pub (no TV, Music, Fruit machines) is that if you're in the mood then you can strike up a conversation with staff or other punters.  So when a chap with a south Bristol accent asked for a pint of a Bristol Beer Factory beer because "I'm from Bristol" I said "me too" and we chatted for the duration of a half of it.

So we wiled about the best part of the afternoon in there and time flew by.  Each time a cask finished, another one was immediately ready and it seemed rude not to try it. 

I'm so glad the place is a success and I fully expect to see it in the GBG this year - they thoroughly deserve it.