Despite the Leeds result, which, as of now, I will totally blank from my mind (in other words, it never happened) I had a really good weekend.
Claire came down from Walsall for her birthday. I managed to get away from work early to meet her in a very busy and cold centre of town.
As it was her birthday weekend, I thought it would be nice to do something different on Friday evening. So instead of a night in with a takeaway curry or defrosted pizza, we went out for a meal.
We then had the decision of where to go. After a lot of thought, it was mutually decided we would avoid going back into town (which would have been even busier and colder than earlier) and make the short trip to The Weston.
The Weston isn’t the place that I used to go with friends a few years ago. Gone are the pool tables; the football is no longer being shown; and the old alcoholic men who appeared to live at the bar have all disappeared (or died). It is now a lot more upmarket, and while I wouldn’t chose to go drinking there, it was a really nice place to take Claire for a meal.
Saturday, as always, is football. Bath City were at home to Maidenhead, so we only had to make the short walk to Twerton Park. The afternoon felt colder than the previous evening, and despite both dressing up like Eskimos, shivered for 2 hours. Luckily City won 1-0 – a victory that pleased both of us and kept the hyperthermia at bay.
Sunday. A boring and uneventful day spent cleaning my flat, getting the Christmas tree out the cupboard (yes, I am aware it’s still November) and washing my clothes, I didn’t get up to anything else. I hear there was a game of football involving Leeds, but I wouldn’t know anything about that…
I was down the local pub last night. While enjoying a pint with Simon, our conversation was interrupted by a small child. The kid had wandered off from its mother and was trying to make friends. Bless. The child’s idea of starting a friendship was by offering me chocolate. Now this is always a good thing, but not in this case.
I wasn’t able to accept the gift. Not because I felt bad about taking a young boy’s sweets, but because the chocolate had been half chewed and covered was in spit. It was extremely awkward when he left the soggy KitKat on the pub table and stood around watching, expecting me to tuck in.
Luckily he was distracted by something shiny at the other side of the room and he ran away; but I was left feeling bad and guilty for not eating his gift of chewed up biscuit. Am I going to Hell now?
This evening I paid a visit to the newly refurbished pub, The Weston. I have fond memories of this pub – playing pool, watching football on the dodgy projector, staying behind after closing time and drinking endless pints of Stella (something I now regret!)
After visiting this evening, I am bitterly disappointed in the pubs new look. Gone is the friendly resident pet dog, the pool tables are no more, and the screens and televisions have been torn from the wall. The pub lacks any spirit or local feel. Without wanting to sound like a TV advert for a high street bank, my pub is now “a trendy wine bar!”
The only good thing about the place is that they sell Weston’s cider – one of the best West Country ciders you can buy, and a rarity in pubs. Other than that, I have nothing positive to report. It is overpriced, overdressed, far too posh, and lacks any charm.
If I was the bar manager, I would worry. Tonight is the night before Bank Holiday Monday. The place was virtually deserted. If customers cannot be attracted on a night like this, they will never come. The Weston is not a pub, it is a wine bar, and is not suitable for it’s out of town location.
Bring back the traditional pub!
I’ve been off work on annual leave all week, so decided to go to town on Thursday night – a rarity for me, as my watering holes normally consist of the local down the road, football clubhouses and countryside pubs.
It was a case of visiting some places old and some new. I met Jon who I hadn’t seen in ages and went to an old favourite of mine, The Bell. It was a nice spring day and not too cold so we were able to enjoy a pint outside.
We then went to one of the best curry houses in Bath – Jaflong. It’s been a long time since I have been to this restaurant (too long), and I had forgotten how good it was. While they do offer take away meals, they don’t deliver – a pity; as if they did offer such as service, it would probably be my primary diet (until I died of a curry induced heart attack)
After curry, we made our way back to my flat, stopping at a new pub for me – The Royal Oak on the Lower Bristol Road. The Royal Oak is a real ales pub. The only ale I have really tried is Courage Best and Gem, as they sell it in the Bath City club house (locally branded as “The City Ale”). This pub was so non-commercial that they didn’t even stock Gem! I was given something very similar (which I can’t remember the name of), but did enjoy.
It was then time to go home. At the time of leaving my flat, it was a warm evening, so I only wore my light denim jacket. When I left the pub, it was a freezing cold night, so I ended up walking home very slowly, shivering all the way back.
This evening has been a quite night in. I’m off to Essex tomorrow to watch Bath City play Braintree. This is one of the longest trips of the season, and involves me leaving my flat shortly after 9am – I don’t expect to be home much before 10pm that night. Time for bed…
Last night’s trip to the local pub wasn’t the usual, fun experience. There was some party in the back room, and the whole place was full students.
From the looks of things, the party was in aid of Australia Day. What the fuck is all that about? Only the Aussies could be that self-obsessed to expect other countries to celebrate a day in their honour.
It wasn’t very Aussie themed, anyway. The prepubescent looking students who were enjoying the party, were drinking endless bottles of Irish cider, while the DJ blasted out American gangster rap. There was no sign of Rolf Harris, Karl Kennedy or Crocodile Hunter!
If the gangster rap wasn’t hard enough on my ears, there was live music at the bar. It wasn’t very good, but was very loud. At one point, I found myself sat between a crony attempting to sing Valerie by Razorlight, and Tim Westwood’s brother blasting out THE BEST GANGSTA RAP ALBUM IN THE WORLD… EVA! Both merged into one horrible, loud noise. Not nice.
About Me
So you stumbled across my blog. No doubt after searching for something bizarre on Google. Before you hit that 'Back Button', why not stay and have a read for a few minutes?
If you are after a website which gives advice on how to hack an iPhone X, download the latest Steven Seagal movie, or view nudy ladies, you've come to the wrong place and may now press 'Back'.
However, if you would like a lifestyle blog, written by a 30-something chap, living in Bath (England), feast your eyes on this.
You won't discover how to copy PlayStation 4 games. What you will find is a blog, covering life in the West Country, the highs and lows of supporting two unsuccessful football teams, while sharing a house with a wife and rabbit.
All written by a man, somewhere on the sanity-scale between normal and eccentric.
