Amazing things about the UK

Obviously my lovely brother and sister and good friends. But otherwise, I love a good old pub, I don’t think they exist in France, although there are attempts. The beer, the food, the banter. In general the friendliness of (nearly everyone. Airports are more comfortable, French ones are very utilitarian in my view and unless you have lounge access are a bit basic. Otherwise I am v happy with France!

Wobbleswick! I have to go there now, what a name!

Fish n chips! I second that!


Perpendicular Gothic, I love it.

Actually written as Walberswick. Not easy to get to but worth the trek, The Bell Inn used to be brill.
It’s most famous resident was Clement Freud.

1 Like

Did you frequent the Harbour Inn (Southwold)… just wondering…
Many a happy hour there, after the rugby match was done and dusted…
Sadly, they only let me drink gingerbeer… :roll_eyes:

Rings a bell Stella but I used to use a pub on the main drag (posh place) and another further along the road near the Post Office as well as the Adnams shop and cantine.

1 Like

there were so many to choose from…
Sadly my Dad was well known, thus all the landlords knew me too and that I was under-age… :roll_eyes:

Sunk many a pint of Broadside at The Sole Bay Inn to wash down fish and chips.

1 Like

And then on to Giggleswick, where my father had family.

1 Like

I gets better!!

Don’t miss Wigglesworth, acquaintances lived there.
Then you can start on the Wallops :wink:

The white and dark peaks

so many strange, pet names…
who knows Toosie?

I don’t think you quite get the spirit of it!

@JaneJones I used to go to possibly the smallest pub in England when I lived in Gloucestershire, it was in Down Ampney I think (lovely Vaughn Williams) and on the chimneypiece sat an onion the size of a volleyball, a prizewinner, a Gargantua among onions, the pride and joy of the owner. He also grew leeks and carrots in drainpipes and Cinderella’s coach-sized pumpkins and would show you them or photographs of them.

And the idea of even thinking about eating his beloved onion would have been anathema…

1 Like

I didn’t mention such a dreadful possibility of course :wink: the onion was beautiful. Translucent pinkish skin and the stalk wrapped round with a cunningly tied string, very harmonious in shape. (I bet it wouldn’t have tasted of anything though).

A veritable exemplar of British cuisine :wink: :rofl:

Occasionally, on market day, we used to have lunch in Le globe in Maurs (Cantal); an establishment where nothing (including the politics) had changed since the days of Vichy France. From our first visit in 2012 up to the first confinement there was (presumably) the same petit pain on the LHS of the mantlepiece. Never had the courage to ask why - its size was unremarkable, but its incongruity and longevity…

1 Like