What is one to do when caught out in a heavy thunderstom sans-brolly while out and about on a non-pub related photo-assignment? Dash into the nearest pub of course! And the nearest pub on this occasion was the Eastnor Castle in Somers Town - uh no! It's always looked a bit rough on the outside, but as we've seen that can and does often mean nothing.
Inside it's quite cosey and comfy. Just the one room but it's nicely arranged. No surprises in that there's no ales on - despite the painted gable end stating otherwise - so a cold, fizzy lager was ordered, and cold and fizzy it was.
It was quite busy, with most people sticking round the bar. Three of four other lonesomes were dotted around at tables here & there, and so I did likewise, cagely taking photos hoping not to be spotted. To be honest I don't know if anyone would give a hoot, but I'd rather not find out.
One of the other loners was a woman who'd seemed to have just popped in for a pint and a quiet moment to herself. Nice to see proof that women can do that.
There isn't much else to say really. It's a locals' boozer for its locals. They all seemed to know each and the atmosphere was rather pleasant. If they had ales on I could easily spend more time here. Watching the football scores on the new-fangled digital text reminded me of being a student and doing the same thing via Ceefax. Happy days.
The rain carried on outside and got heavier and heavier. A huge clap of thunder caused everyone, including myself, to look towards the door as if they'd be something to see. The chap with the beard joked about it being a great excuse not to go home, and needing a boat if it carried on. Always nice to have a little bit of pub banter about the weather! Anyways, by now my crossword was done so off I went, sadly no boat was available.