I left the fearless sailor in his window to search out a proper pub to wile away half an hour or so until I could check in to my hotel . I turned into Dale Street and spotted a possibility a little way up the road. To be fair It didn’t look much like a pub from the Outside, more like someone’s house, but intrigued by its name, I ventured forward.
The signage was a dull colour against the black background and wasn’t very visible until you got up close, the pub sign to was dark and small.
I went inside not expecting much, but to my surprise I found myself inside a pub, the like I hadn’t seen before. The theme was very much rustic horticulture. A single room but divided into several hidden areas, classic garden designer stuff. The furniture was robust and wooden.
A mix of exposed brick and distressed painted walls added to a rustic feel, yet some bright colours and lighting also gave it a modern edge.
One of the rooms areas was designated as a restaurant , accessed through an archway clad in plastic Ivy and other synthetic flora and fauna, At the base of the archway are a couple of wooden garden gates, one ajar to allow access, the other with a hand painted sign on it ,asking that you wait there to be seated.
The more you looked around, the quirkier it got. Pendant lights hanging from the ceiling had garden sieve lampshades, the shelving above the bar for storing glasses, were clad with more plastic greenery interspersed with blue fairy lights, but what really hammered home the magical potting shed theme was the bar front, constructed from corrugated iron roofing sheets, it kind of worked.
But what of the beer? Would it be any good?
The Greene King IPA was trying to hide in embarrassment, so I went for a dose of The Pokies, a decent pint, comfortably scoring a NBSS 3.
It was a great little, weird but properD pub , I could have planted myself here for a while, but before I forked out for another pint, It was time to head off to check in to my digs, plus that’s enough gardening puns for a while.
I dug The Allotment.