BRAPA ...GLAMOUR IN GLAMORGAN Part 4/5 -The Playoff Pwsh

We should be getting into some good quality pubs now, providing you've got it right of course. Let's have a look .....

16. Tinhouse, Llanelli

Absolutely bloody typical! The ONE tick out of forty which I was quite critical of, and they see it onX and reply!! Of course, none of the 30+ which I lavish praise on reply thanking me for my kind words!! Ticking on social media is an oft cruel mistress. It's not like Tinhouse did anything wrong 'on the day', the quality on their Bass was good (the one handpump on, unless I was blind to their own brews which the GBG had promised). But the large echoey grey metallic bar room aesthetic wasn't to my taste, and certainly not yours judging by the even more scathing replies in the comments. Atop my high stool, Pointless on four screens (which seemed rather pointless!), two chuntering old boys at the bar hunched over lagers, a barmaid who took a while to appear, I can only assume this place is designed for the beer ticker ... three thirds of craft beers, swallow them and move on? Anyway, credit to them for replying, they obviously care. They suggested they could've changed the TV channel for me, but I have no beef with Xander Armstrong & guest co-host (apart from Lauren Laverne), in fact I'll watch it if it's on, just having any TV show in quadruple is a bit 'much'. They also said they could've given me a comfier seat! From where? In any case, I don't want a false experience, I'd rather see 'pubs' in their true state, Oliver Cromwell style, warts 'n all.

15. Dic Penderyn, Merthyr Tydil

Another pub which received an above average number of 'likes' due to the circumstances, rather than any great love for the place, I reckon. This Wetherspoons was the first pub of my week in Glamorgan. I arrive late Thursday afternoon, work chucking out time, and flippin' eck it is a noisy hive, you may say 'extra'. Tough debut for new mascot Kale Joseph, but at least he has Colin for support. Everyone bellows from within their hi-vis, they are LOUD in every way. They stomp up and down the creaky staircase from the high up toilets like a herd of pregnant elephants. The beer, as previously mentioned as I had the same in Llanelli 'Spoons was below par - fizzy, cold and it never cleared. I kept my head down and tried to remain anonymous, or as anonymous as anyone can who has a stuffed toy kale leaf and cauliflower on his table!

That's right lads, hide behind the giant menu!

14. Taproom, Mumbles

    
    

'Cometh the Gower, cometh the man!' That's what I was supposed to declare when I arrived, I'd rehearsed it, so probably just as well I forgot. What a long bus ride from Swansea! Can't remember it being this bad in 2017, but I guess back then I had Blackpill and Sketty to break the journey. Cordial staff, 8/10 on the warmth, pint good as it should be in its own Tap. I know all breweries love flogging their own merch, but most I've ever witnessed here. Like TK bloody Maxx. Clothes racks full of clobber, mainly outerwear against those harsh Swansea Bay winds, and a fetching bright green beach towel I briefly considered. Very BRAP summer. A group of gay lads on a beer ticking mission arrive next, consider a Gower Growler, then decide against it (I'm saying nothing), talk about blokes they've snogged, boat trips in the Solent and potential pedestrianisation of Swindon town centre. Glad you ranked this one highly, I was fairly impressed too.

13. Red Lion Inn, Morriston

It's official, your favourite 'Spoons of my week was found just north of Swansea, and I think you are a decent judge, I too found this pleasing - in a gooey, hazy fifth pint of the day sense. This particular fifth pint Glamorgan Thunderbird at £1.49 was fresh as a daisy - in keeping with so many recent 'Spoons experiences across the country, if we ignore Merthyr and Llanelli. Carpet like coughed up carrot puke (7/10 - but admire the boldness). An absolute scrum in and around the bar. Why do people congregate rather than use the space available, as this 'Spoons has quieter nooks & crannies aplenty and I'm soon in a 'hidden' back area. A very Welsh hi-vis Daddy who's just picked his little girl up from school and brought her here for tea takes a big gulp of Madri, burps in her face, and blows it on her, just for the laugh. She rolls her eyes, he must do it a lot. Child cruelty? Depends on your choice of tipple I suppose.

12. Plough & Harrow, Monknash

If 50% of the people contained within had been a little friendlier and less provincial I think we're looking top ten, probably top five, for this one - but you sensed my struggles so well done! Take the bloke above. I have zero phone signal getting off the bus, so I ask him if I'm heading in the right direction for the Plough & Harrow. He grunts! GRUNTS! Doesn't even turn or make eye contact. And look, he's going in himself. RUDE! Man serving is a delight, as is the HPA straight from the barrel. But the other man who floats around the pub doing nothing in his pressed white shirt is smarmy, of course there's no customer Wi-Fi but he has special staff rights, so when he asks to look at my GBG, I ask him to double check the next bus is approx 40 mins away, he taps away, claims next one is about 22:20(!) and chuckles about how I'm in trouble. EH?! Loos are outside, no surprise in a place like this, but when I ask the yokels hogging the fire, they seem reluctant to tell me, like it's a guarded secret. A couple of them spot my GBG and we have a chat BRAPA across the room, before another member of the group shouts 'THAT'S ENOUGH NOW!' cutting us off mid-flow. Rude! Darkness falls, it is the most isolated I've been all week, but back at the bus stop (I didn't believe Mr Smarmy) I find a large group huddled. These are English tourists and friendly. Tell me I need to be on other side if I'm heading for Llantwit Major (they are all off to Bridgend). Their bus arrives first. One bloke is so pissed, his legs give way (twice!) and they have to persuade the bus driver to let him on. They are all about 60 years old. EMBARRASSING. The one man who vocalises my same thoughts, the only other other person going to L Major? Yes, our grunting friend from the start! On the bus, I try asking him about the shut pub at Marcrss, but he goes back to grunting and makes it clear he doesn't want a conversation. People eh? Strange! Gorgeous rustic gem though.

11. Star, Wick

    
    

The southern coastal area of Glamorgan brought some of my favourite pubs of the week. This sturdy stone walled long house wasn't one of them, but I respect your right to rank it higher than I'd have done. It truly is the coldest day of my holiday, and that baltic wind chill must be taking about 10 degrees off the air temp! I'm the only customer in this side of the bar, mid afternoon, never a good sign. The landlady is quite the low-key character. She speaks in a poetic, dramatic, rich Welsh accent. "The Wick wind ... as they say!" she breathes, putting all the emphasis on the W's. Not sure who 'they' are, I was too frightened to ask. She then admonishes me for visiting in February rather than the summer when things would be warmer and livelier. What happened to respecting the off-season visitor? My beer is from Glastonbury and is quite boring. The landlady's daughter(?) occasionally looks up from the tablet to ask if the crisps need topping up or something. Two distant pool players sound like they have ferrets up their trouser legs. But that's as thrilling as it got.

10. Beaufort Arms, Norton, Mumbles

Look, you can tell it is going to be a classic before you've got inside. Open before the advertised 3:30pm due to the Six Nations. Is it over soon? Please! Only gripe I have here is that every single interaction I had (and there were probably more of them here than any other pub this week due to the Sunday afternoon bustling community boozer pubbub) felt vaguely strained and awkward. Starting with smoking man outside, to paying by cash, to asking for the WiFi password, to running the gauntlet to and from the toilets. Apt that Bass should be the beer that everyone is drinking, my first sighting of it this week. Top quality too, even better than in Tinhouse - NOT that I want to upset them further! It was in Mumbles 2017 that I had my 'Bass moment of enlightenment' firstly in the Pilot (best Bass I've ever had, or joint with Elms in Burton), then in the Victoria with a lovely but shaky handed retired dentist. Before that, I thought Bass was just a boring brown bitter! I get it every time I see it nowadays - see also Fullers ESB, White Rat, Oakham Green Devil and Titanic Plum Porter. Don't ask me what I'd do if all were on together. When I return from the loo to find a bunch of old blokes sat at my table keeping Colin and my GBG company, I'm not actually surprised! We get chatting local pubs, 'tis all very affable, but couldn't quite shake the feeling of outsider looking in. Which of course I was! But an easy top 10, you've done good.

9. Wern Fawr, Ystalyfera

There's a fine line between those beautiful untouched 'step back in time' pubs and those that feel in need of some TLC, and just a damn good scrub. A sympathetic heritage scrub, mind. I'm not convinced it was a battle the Wern Fawr won, but as a pub lover, there's always a thrill about coming to such unique hovels. 9th place? You've got this one spot on. Finding a shut pub didn't help. I was already traumatised, having asked the bus driver for a 'day ticket' to save me mispronouncing places like this, but he asks me EXACTLY where I'm going. And Ystalyfra involved a change at Ystradgynlais, which has a blue plaque because Leon Foster once visited on a stag do. The pub dog is in window barking at me like crazy, a local lady with wise eyes is passing and tells me 'ugh, she opens when she wants or when the first customer arrives!' I ring the doorbell twice and mine host tells me they've recently changed hours from 2pm to 3pm. Only half an hour to wait, I find a grassy knoll to eat my carrot sticks and hummus. A bloke is doing similar, without the carrot or hummus. He looks like a Viz comic real ale twt so when he disappears at 2:45pm, I wonder if he's a local off to get the pub open early. After all, if I can get in for 2:50pm, I can catch the 3:18pm bus rather than waiting until 4:18pm! I'm in luck, returning at 2:50pm, pub is now wide open, legs akimbo. Bloke turns out to be the barman. And in a further shocking revelation, the local 9 Lives beers based on Buddy Holly are gorgeous. He, plus a local with impossible accent and our landlady are all full of bonhomie. Pub dog has a bad limp, a real case of 'bark worse than t'bite'. But the pub stinks. And not a good olde worlde 17th century fusty woodsmoke way, but cheesy feet and B.O. Interior itself is an Aladdin's cave of bric-a-brac, mainly sharp implements they use to chase off English pub tickers. And I make the 3:18pm bus. An intriguing throwback, but not the most glorious intriguing throwback.

You made it through another unnecessarily wordy blog, congrats!

I'll be back Wednesday for our final part where we find out the top 8.

I'm #ThirstyThursdaying this week, so we'll then have the month end review on Friday.

Happy pubbing, Si