We've been to Bristol, briefly, again. Mostly it was to see a comedy gig: the most excellent Mark Steel, but also to prepare the flat for the arrival of family visitors who were going to use it to get away during the school holidays.
We had a meeting on the day we ideally wanted to travel and so there was no way we were going to be able to do the usual arrival in late afternoon (ticket restrictions between Paddington and Bristol Temple Meads being what they are). So we decided to revert to the "after work" travel pattern, instead.
Best beer buddy drives but generally doesn't enjoy it. I can't drive. This means we're both very, very comfortable with train travel since we do it so often and we can usually read the signs when something isn't going quite right.
We arrived at Victoria about 20 minutes late but since we had several hours to kill before we could get a train to Bristol, we weren't overly fussed. Our vague plan was to mosey over to Paddington, then wander out to get something to eat and drink. This, despite the beery situation near Paddington not being ideal. The rationale being that it's just easier to be closer to your leaving destination to manage potential hiccoughs better.
However, when we tried to make our way to Victoria Underground there was a queueing system in place. We had no idea if this was normal levels of queueing for that time of day or something else. We didn't wait to find out.
"Where shall we go?"
"Old Faithful"
Old Faithful, being the Cask Pub and Kitchen in Pimlico. We've been going here from time to time as long as we've known each other. We know roughly what direction to set off from Victoria although we're never quite sure how to find it...somehow we always do.
When we arrive - via a slightly different route than the last time we went - the place is already heaving. It's the post-work crowd and we despair of getting a seat. However, there are a lot of spaces around due to poor space-packing-algorithms and it doesn't take S long to enveigle us into a perfectly good seat. There were a few interesting pints and a couple of burgers and everything was grand.
Our stroll back to Victoria was via the best route ever and before long we were on our train to Bristol and not long after that, safely tucked up in bed.
Coming back was a curious thing, though. We arrived on time at Paddington, popped across the city, only to find that all was not well with the trains heading south. Although everywhere indicated that trains would run roughly to time, we knew better. We decided that, as we didn't have any particular plans for the rest of the day, we might as well cut our potential stress levels and head off to The Cask.
Now here's the thing. We'd been drinking in Bristol for a couple of days we know the local favourite beers really well. In the Cask there was nothing familiar on the bar so we had to just take a punt at a couple of pints but we were both very cautious. Whereas on the way to Bristol, we were very gung-ho we found ourselves, now, not wanting to be disappointed by our beer choices.
It's not like drinking beer is particularly expensive so paying about £4.50 for a pint that you then don't like very much is hardly the end of the world. We also know that the first taste of a beer often surprises you and you frequently enjoy it more as you drink more.
So why the hesitancy on our part?
I really don't know. There's no logical reason for it. But there's definitely something about having spent time where we know at least 5 or 6 breweries' beers are almost always to our taste.
Maybe we're not that far removed from the blokes in our local pub in Eastbourne who only ever drink Harvey's best, or Wadworth's 6X. They know what they like...
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