Making progress

My landlady alerts me to the fact that there is a ‘better’ pub in the vicinity. To be fair, it would be difficult to be worse than the Seven Stars in Royston Vaisey/Stithians. I’ve now made two outings there and have not exactly been met with open arms despite the fact that I recently left them a copy of the West Briton. The West Briton is the local rag and seems overly populated with paedophiles. The landlord of the Seven Stars obviously has a distinct aversion to single females of the wine imbibing genre. However, I have a cunning plan to get my own back on his lack of hospitality: as we speak, a team of intellectuals comparable to the Milibands is forming to destroy the status quo in the Sunday evening quiz night.

I am not alone. For a start, I’ve discovered Lindsay and Ian, recently eloped and now living in the piggery. Ian has a PhD from Bristol. Currently unemployed, he has lots of time to read up on news, celebs and watch sport. Lindsay is an environmental biologist….will there be any suitable questions? Then there’s Josh. Josh is a musician living at Molly’s. Due to the shortage of student accommodation, Josh has ended up here on the farm with no transport. Every day, he walks two miles just to get to the bus stop. That’s dedication. I met him tonight clambering over the stile and informed him he was part of a team. He looked suitably unimpressed.

Anyway, off to the Golden Lion. I’m more than adept now at these country tracks. Mind you, I’m getting through a fair amount of fuel owing to the fact that I seldom reach anything above second gear. The Golden Lion is just past the lake. Pardon? I didn’t even know there was a lake. Bloody great thing it is. I noticed it as I was crossing it on the return journey. Well, you know what I’m like with bridges so good job it was dark. Didn’t even know I’d been over it on the way there owing to the relentless rain beating on the screen. It’s a very nice pub with a stunning menu: game stew with herb dumplings, Mrs Finn’s home-made cheese on a potato & onion rosti, chicken stuffed with old smokey (whatever that is), linguine with Cornish crab and not a pasty in sight. Plus, the walls are covered with awards for the food. Lovely.

£4.85 for a glass of wine and they still looked at me with some suspicion though.