Wednesday, 15 May 2013

Entertainment last night and a soggy day's boating

As I expected, we had a very good meal at the Samuel Barlow last night, as well as entertainment. This takes a number of forms in that pub: first off there are always a few dogs about, last night including one of those cheeky terriers that comes and stares at you. It looked mostly like a Dandy Dinmont and clearly had a very high opinion of itself.

Next comes the chat from the bar staff who are both friendly and helpful and finally there's always your interview with the chef patron, who seems to have dedicated himself to supporting the popular image of Aussies everywhere.

It was after we'd scoffed our grub (slow roast breast of lamb for Sheila, smoked haddock and cheese fishcake for me) that he emerged from the kitchen for a natter. In the course of this he vouchsafed that:

  • They don't serve starters because "this is a pub, not a bloody restaurant"
  • He plays golf on a Monday, so they don't open that day, except for Bank Holidays.
  • After golf, he goes and gets drunk, so "to be on the safe side, we don't open until four on a Tuesday"
  • They don't serve sandwiches, "Because I can't be bothered" (actually he didn't say bothered, but this isn't an 18 rated blog)
  • "I go to Portugal to play golf in January, so we don't open at all"
  • The dog menu of two kinds of meat is available every day, free, though donations to the RSPCA are encouraged
  • Each September (the 14th this year) they make an attempt on the Guinness Book of Records for the most pub meals served to dogs in one day. Last year they served 151 dogs, who each had a meal of roast beef and Yorkshire Pudding.
We got there at six last night and only just got a table – in future we'll book by ringing 01827 898 175.

Despite all that, we still got up at six this morning and were boating by quarter past, using our usual routine of Sheila starting off and me relieving her after I've eaten. The weather wasn't too bad at first, but deteriorated as soon as I'd taken the helm, so that it was really quite unpleasant on the approach to Atherstone, wet and windy.

After that it picked up a bit again. We passed the flotilla of four boats from Strawberry Island Boat Club who'd tied between locks ten and nine. They set off to chase us up the flight, but we soon got ahead and didn't see them again until after we'd tied for the day.

All the locks were with us, so it was just on ten as we cleared the flight. I nipped off to get a paper from the local shop as Sanity Again rose in the top lock, leaving Sheila and the volunteer locky to see her through.

The moorings at Hartshill were deserted, the first time I've ever seen that, I reckon, and we've come on just a bit further to the Anchor, by which time I was feeling cold and weary.

The Squirrel's blazing away now and the sun is managing to peep through; there's some hope of a pleasant day tomorrow, though still quite cool.

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