BRAPA is .... DOIN' A MICHAEL BUERK, BUT BATH PUB TICKING I SHALL NOT SHIRK (Part 8/8)

Friday 5th September 2025

Greetings from sunny Bath. I'd completed Bristol a day ahead of schedule so needed something else to fill in my final day. It felt like an afterparty .... a Bath-terparty (yep, still not sure it really works).

Six central pubs are required, the perfect BRAPA score. I had been here previously in 2012 for the letter 'B' of 'Si's A-Z Aleway Adventures' - the natural pre-cursor to BRAPA. Pubs like the Star, Bell, Raven and Green Tree had impressed-a-me-much.

Today's quintet wouldn't be quite as dynamic, but had its moments.

You forget what a tourist-hole it is but by gum, it is like arriving on a football special, blockaded into the train station unable to get out for the number of dorks with wheely suitcases here for the weekend. I finally get to open my legs (so to speak) and power towards the northernmost tick .....

Similar to the Lime Kiln in Bristol yesterday, I find Curfew, Bath (3346 / 5832) slightly namby-pamby. A flowery light airy bar, London-esque, though in fairness, 5% 'pubbier' in every category. My third sighting of Bass this holiday. Easily better than the Bank Tavern's disasterclass, but not as enjoyable as in the Angel, Long Ashton. The much-vaunted 'Burton Snatch' or a Letby-esque air bubble in the pipes, who knew? Not BRAPA. My little cubby hole is opposite the stairs down to the cellar, so our host of x-ray vision spies my GBG and pops in to ask "which other pubs are on the agenda for today then?" I like it when someone 'gets' pub ticking immediately, as if it is the most natural way for anyone to spend a Friday / weekend / entire life.

One normal day, that's all I ask in BRAPA.

After all, the sun was out, no sign of impending deluge like almost every other day this week. Neck improving. Left foot sore, but manageable. I was feeling good as Google Maps leads me around leafy, sleepy grand posh semi circular crescents in search of pub two.

But then, a voice from a gate. "Excuse me, my husband's had a fall, can you help me get him back up?"

Well, Peter is wedged horizontally across the hallway, blood dripping out of a cut in his hand. With great effort cos he's like a deadweight, me and jolly wife Christine get him onto the second from bottom hall step. Then I enlist two blokes chatting across the street to help get him up onto his zimmer. But he's a bit distressed and lost all confidence to take the next step (so to speak) so I decide to ring 999 and after much painful explaining, they downgrade it to 111. Both useless as each other, "I'll ask you some questions which might seem irrelevant" says Shirl. No kidding. They're obsessed with the cut on the hand when it is more of long term health / care issues which I'm thinking about. Peter is 95, and I later learn that he has a spinal condition from his daughter on the phone (she's living in Newport) which I wish I'd known about before we'd start trying to drag him up! And his third fall this week I'm told! He's mentally more with it than Christine, but she's basically his carer. At one point during the 111 call, I feel a hand on my arse. 'Steady on Christine, now is not the time' I think. But she's slipping a tenner into my back pocket to thank me. After a brief bit of BRAPA chat, look, it lightened the mood okay??, 111 ring back to say they are FINALLY on the way, and P&C are happy for me to go. Hope it all worked out. But I think they need more help. I needed a pint after that.

Pulteney Arms, Bath (3347 / 5833) was the uninspiring pub which followed the drama. Our mate back in the Curfew said it'd had a recent takeover/refurb which wasn't universally popular, and on this evidence I can see why. Barmaid is one of those 'scared of her own shadow' types. I like my bar staff to be like lead singers in a band, own their space, be the boss, graarr. This was the equivalent of turning your back on the crowd. Cardinal sin. Felt like she could sense my jittery state, it had been a more harrowing experience than I'd realised at the time! Thankfully, this woman from Arizona (total yankee doodle dandy) is holding court in the front bar determined to tell anyone who'll listen that she's a regular and not a tourist. Two U.S. tourist do walk in for lunch, their positivity (especially when it comes to soup options) scares the barmaid further. The HPA is decent, but not a pub I'll be able to remember a year from now.

More exciting photo courtesy of Sir Quinno on a recent visit. Arizona woman sat in exact same place #LocalNotTouristHonest

Back to the centre of Bath where my final quartet were located, and finally, we strike gold .....

Unnecessarily French sounding, but by jove what a perfect red homely interior the Coeur De Lion, Bath (3348 / 5834) does possess. A 5.3% bible black pint of Black Friar is the perfect beer for the occasion, and realising he's got a bit of charisma, I tell the barman that I find it astonishing that everyone is choosing to sit outside. "They know it is their last chance to see the sun in 2025" he replies, quick as a flash, with the authority of Michael Fish & Nostradamus's love child. The one exception to this rule was an elderly guy in white flannels, sort of Abraham Lincoln meets David Gower meets Aggers and Bloers. He's the most Bath man in existence so of course he's not even going to return my scruffpot Y-oik-shire smile. Bath, I find it hard work. But I'd come here again if you forced me / Hull City got them away in the FA Cup.

But just when things were looking rosier with a path to a pub ticking conclusion, I'm dealt a cruel blow.

Shut pub alert at the Huntsman. Charlotte and Llew, screw you! As I'm not in rural North Oxon, I don't try and cadge an invite on this occasion. You learn to pick your battles in this game. I bet Llew is Welsh, couldn't he have done this in Cardiff? I hope their union is a miserable one. But really, I blame the pub more.

I keep an eye on the Huntsman's Social Media, looking for clues. Llew's Clues? I'll raise you a Kevin Duala.

Anyway, it seems there was some 'fallout' because in an amazing show of BRAPA unity, disillusioned by her pub's actions, long serving Rosa the restaurant supervisor quit the following day ....

And I'm pretty sure that Connie the Caterpillar cake is a nod to Colin the Cauliflower. Nice work Rosa.

One of the Huntsman's 'sister pubs' it recommends I visit instead (i.e. Fullers pubs in Bath) is actually next on my agenda anyway ......

Think Parcel Yard turned up to 11, where the punters don't have a clue how to behave in a pub and the staff don't mind openly taking the piss out of them for how ridiculous they all are. That's how I find Crystal Palace, Bath (3349 / 5835) and the beer choice is made easier when I notice Tom's Beer of the Week is ESB. I don't know who you are Tom, but you got good taste mate. With a problematic Dutch couple doing everyone's head in by failing to grasp the need for a table number, I almost get a hug off the barmaid when I declare that a pint is all I require, no food, uncomplicated! I find a (relatively) quiet corner where I could rest my head against an ancient wood panel and chuckle as the masses all bump into each other in their bid to find an outdoor / conservatory dining spot. Like watching an Attenborough Penguin documentary. I need a wee. Significant because it is my first since I left Bristol this morning. Normally two per pub by now. A cloudy substance that looks like craft carrot juice trickles out at 1mph. Think my body was trying to tell me something! Only other notable feature was a cut through the bar, were customer's allowed to use it or is it solely for staff? Everyone was too busy to ask, but it really intrigued me for some weird reason.

One to go, unless I got on a train to Oldfield Park to do the Royal Oak which I would've done earlier in the holiday but I was too knackered on day eight. Proved a good decision as in the 2026 GBG, Bath has added another Oldfield Park tick. So you see, sometimes less CAN be more in pub ticking. Well done me(!)

If I wanted to end of a high, then I'd chosen the wrong place because Bath Brew House, Bath (3350 / 5836) was a stonewall bore. Made so little impact on me. The highlight was ordering their beer called 'Deus' but pronouncing it 'Juice'. Barman could've laughed in my face (as they did in Littlehampton once) but Bath is kinder than Littlehampton and he was a nice man. It tastes 'ok' but for a Brew House I'd want something sparkier. I sit on a comfy bench in cavernous nothing surroundings, hardly any customers, next to Warminster malt. Hang on, could this be the reason Warminster smelt really awful when I went? I just thought it was bin day gone wrong. Colin's last pub as a full time mascot, best make sure it ain't his last ever or he might murder me in my sleep for this,

I also forgot to go to New Bristol taproom which was about 2 yards from my Air B 'n' B , so amazed it didn't make the 2026 GBG as punishment.

Speaking of which, all five pubs retain their place in the new Good Beer Guide. And the Huntsman got dropped, hah! A further show of unity for BRAPA from the local CAMRA branch, just like Rosa. Hope they got a cake too.

Right, my holiday starts tomorrow so no blogs for a while but see you for plenty of ticks in three counties of contrasting fortunes.....

Keep it pub, Si