BRAPA in .... CROCK N' HOWL in CRICKHOWELL (Gwenty was Plenty 14/14)
The final chapter in my epic October week in Gwent / Mid Wales is here. Only 133 pubs to catch up on after this! Oh dear, even with my BRAPA winter break, I'm not making the blogging progress I'd hoped.
Only one thing for it, a 14 part 'blogs in brief' coming up after this one. Ten pubs at a time. One photo of the outside of the boozer, my favourite indoor photo, and 3-4 brief lines. That'll be a challenge for rambling me! But it is the only way I'll ever catch up.
But we'll finish this Welsh section in the traditional way.
Saturday 8th October was the final day of my holiday, I'd somehow failed to notice there were no trains running out of Abergavenny today, and I'd slept in way too long to do the pubs south of Monmouth, north of Chepstow by bus #epicBRAPAfail, so all that remained was tidying up a few of the Mid Wales outliers on the bus route up to Brecon. And I mean 'few' because buses were fairly sparse.
This first pub apparently closes at 2pm sharpish so best to get it done first .....
Cracking pub sign. All downhill from here .....
Bear Hotel, Crickhowell (2451 / 4015) certainly looked the part, what with its 15th century ancient creaky Tudory backdrop, opening up into an unashamedly dining led hotel bar full of elderly dropouts. My heart sinks when I see the sheer volume of folk leaning on the bar brandishing menus like weapons. I must look like a 'wet led kinda dude' because this cheerful barmaid peers over the top of them all and summons me towards the bar. This was a turn up for the books! With absolutely nowhere for the solitary drinker to sit, I explore the myriad of rooms and corridors, taking stock in a reception area full of those leaflets that tell you what owl sanctuaries and roman forts to visit in the local area. I push a small door and soon I'm alone in this secluded sunny walled garden. This'll do! The ale isn't in great condition. My seclusion is short lived when a group of poshos encounter a group of elderly Bristolians. They've all stayed overnight, but in different places, a bit like on 'The Traitors' but sadly with no murders or banishments, and are now being loud, annoying, fussy and comparing notes. "Sit down, shut up" I chant in my head. It set the tone for my experience of Crickhowell. A horribly attractive but cluttered twee town that couldn't have felt more English and less Welsh if it tried, bright and dismal, full of flouncy cafes and art shops, moaning kids, elderly ditherers, entitled dogs and general fucking idiots with no spatial awareness. Grim, in the prettiest way possible. Get me the bus outta here!
"Sit daaarn, shat ap"
Bonus point for carpet, but tragically, this little area was most conducive (indoors at least) for sitting with a pint
Impossible to think that place is going to close its doors at 2pm too, but on the plus side it has made the 2023 GBG, somehow. On the downside, Crickhowell has a new GBG entry called Treebeards. A micropub on the same street. Dammit! How did I not notice that? Please don't make me go back.
There are two slightly varying bus routes, the X43 and 43 heading up towards Brecon. The bus I got went on the 'lower' road towards a village called Llangyndir. This sounds more like the Wales I want.
Ooh, potential pub ticker on the horizon doing his photo bits?
No, he was just snapping his Lycra mates!
And once I'd negotiated LycraFest2022 and found the bar, Red Lion, Llangyndir (2452 / 4016) was an excellent pub, having two rooms helped, because the one to the right was obviously the locals bar with pool table, dartboard and not much else. These unseasonably warm October Saturday's certainly bring out the worst of humanity, another drove of diners occupied the main bar, the cyclists obviously were bossing the outdoors. In my splendid isolation, the lovely landlord and staff kept popping their heads around the corner to check if I was okay and have a quick pub ticking update. Considering how busy the place was, this attention to detail was the mark of a great place. A couple of locals came in to play pool. I got called 'mush' and 'boyo' at various times. I'd never felt more like a Welshman this holiday, and it felt strangely nice! The Hopfather drank superbly. Still in the GBG, and I should think so.
5 billionth sighting of the Wye Valley glass this week
I could've easily stayed for a second (perhaps third) pint, these two hourly buses that finish at like 6pm were a killer! However, this dude on Twitter recommended me another Llangynidr pub called The Castle. Time to investigate.
But try as I might, I could find 'The Castle'. Nothing doing on Whatpub, Google Maps. When this chap had said 'just up the road', maybe it was in the Mid Wales 'just up the road' 30 miles away?
I did stumble upon a pub about a 10-15 minute walk from the Red Lion, and with so much time until the bus, well it'd be rude not to wouldn't it?
51st shade of grey
A seafood dog loving restaurant with rather too much Hallowe'en decoration (still 3 weeks away lads, come on) thinly disguised as a pub, made for quite a peculiar theme at Coach & Horses, Llangynidr. The staff were a bit of a rabble to be honest, unsure, uncommunicative, a bit like a Hull City back four/five under Mark Hateley or Shota Arveladze. But there's always a plus point in even the direst of circumstances, and here it was surprise Bass! Not great Bass. Very cold Bass. Maybe they'd meant to order a consignment of sea bass and got confused? Feels like something that'd happen here. I was initially amused by all the to'ing and fro'ing uncertainty indoors, but it soon became grating so with some stunning mountainous scenery and fine weather, I took my pint outside to a bench where I made friends with a call centre lady from Wakefield & Brighton depending which way the sun is facing. We bonded over the lack of phone reception and doing jury service (mine would start in two days time, but York seemed a long way away out here). I guess every pub is pre-emptive, but don't expect this to trouble the discerning Mid Wales CAMRA folk any time soon.
...and surprise Bass is always a nice surprise
Crab-solutely not GBG worthy
Knew the day-trippers would catch up with me eventually!
A quite appalling mish-mash of decor
Breathe, and relax!
Back on the bus, I'd fully expected to stay on to Brecon and try the walk to Groesfford, but at the last minute (and I mean last minute), I realised Pencelli was on, if open, and it was an 'IF' because some social media hours suggested a mid afternoon closure, although more said open. When a bloke pressed the bell to alight by the pub, I decided to risk it. Fate?
Heart in mouth ..... but it was ..... hurray!
Dustpan tale, incoming!
Royal Oak, Pencelli (2453 / 4017) My final tick of the holiday! And I'd soon realise why there was a sheepish looking chap striding around the pub, into the garden with a dustpan and pints, because before I could get served, his wife/partner is at the bar asking for free beer, to which the staff are basically saying 'no, it was your own silly fault' in the most diplomatic way possible. The lady leaves in a huff, staff chuckle and roll their eyes, so without wanting to sound too nosey but aware I need blog material, I ask what went on there? Turns out the whole family sat on the SAME SIDE of a bench, flipped it over, and their drinks went flying! Lovely stuff, and what a gorgeous pub on which to end. Brekkie the Sheep, who hadn't had the impact a Colin or even an Oscar the Owl would this holiday, possibly because sheep blend into the Welsh scenery so effortlessly, even got chatted to briefly! 'Baaaa' he replied. Lovely baaa-nter between staff & locals, and I felt so comfortable, I joined in. Thornbridge seemed an unusual ale to have on, but it didn't stop me getting that gosh damn Wye Valley glass for the 5,000,000,001st time this holiday. Then they pop the fire in for a bonus point. Weather was great, but what pub doesn't benefit by having a lit fire? Amazing stuff, and deservedly keeps its place in the 2023 Guide.
.... and yet, men are allowed in this pub!
Someone's had enough to drink!
Mrs Oak, light that fire!
Not a bad little view
The bus driver bollocks me for standing in the wrong place, but a bit like the pub opening times today, social media / Google was full of contradictions.
Back in Abergavenny, it is still so early, I'd like to eke out a final pre-emptive before the long stride back towards my Premier Inn (via the Bridge Inn at Llanfoist, obviously!)
The non GBG pub mentioned to me more than any (apart from the Station Hotel) was this ......
The Whatpub write up had piqued my curiosity further, Brains having taken over this pub over from Bass - plenty of debate about how much they've preserved/destroyed the interior! Hard when you never went in the Bass days, but to me, a first time visitor to the Hen & Chickens, Abergavenny , itwas a beautiful old place, the locals helped by being a toothless happy bunch of old crones on death's door, the stink of cider, piss and vinegar was weirdly lovely, it felt a bit like somewhere you'd find in the mean streets of Blackpool in late summer if you went 'off promenade'. The Rev James was of excellent quality, I dunno what all the fuss is about. Get it back in the GBG ya Brains haters! Better than the Grofield any day of the week if you are a true pub lover.
So there we have it. End of holiday. I did stop at the Bridge Inn (I knew I would) and took stock on what had been a great week. The scenery, the pubs, the people, the ale quality - all generally excellent.
My maps looked like this by the end.
With hindsight, my decision to stay at the 'Abergavenny' Premier Inn at Llanfoist hadn't been a good one. Newport would've been the sensible destination, but what I can say is I fell in love with Abergavenny. Not many places I go and think "I could live 'ere" but the 'Venny was one.
Without the final day train strike and the weird Caerwent bus anomaly, I reckon I'd have managed a fully green Gwent.
Mid Wales of course was more of an added bonus / needs must, I'd love to get back there some time next year but if I do come back to Wales in 2023, I suspect I'm more likely to pick Glamorgan or NW Wales. We'll see.
Meeting Daddy BRAPA for a pint in York's glorious Golden Ball when I made it back to York the following day
I'll probably struggle to write a blog for the next few days, the family might want to play party games and sup sherry in the 'fire room' whilst listening to the Elaine Page Christmas album (IT IS WOT WE DO), but I'll take my laptop back to parents and do what I can on evenings!
