Lunchtime Report
The Egerton Arms, Chelford
It is a cold and misty morning with not a lot to see. Farmers are busy rushing around in their tractors pulling huge muck-spreaders behind them. I crossed the M6 motorway and stood and watched for a few moments as the whole of Britain seemed to charge beneath my bridge, supposedly separated by two chevrons.
They all have somewhere pressing to get to at all costs. I feel strangely alienated from this culture - an outsider looking over the parapet at an unreal world. My world is in the bubble that the mist allows me and it seems okay.
I arrive at the pub as they are opening the doors. It is a big place - a town pub out in the country. A strange place, but with a good selection of beers. The Theakstons bitter was okay - I shall try their Black Sheep next. There is the relentless background music playing away; nothing to offend or challenge, nothing to celebrate either. It is desperately trying not to offend at all costs and in doing so has become sterile and plastic, which is a shame as the staff are warm, friendly and efficient. They deserve better.
Ten miles or so to do this afternoon if I can get my body to get up & go - it seems to have got up and gone without me at the moment. Perhaps this black sheep will sort it out. It must be the weather...
Alan
ReplyDeleteYou seem to be turning into a grumpy old man mile by mile, day by day!!
Wasn't he already!
ReplyDelete“an outsider looking over the parapet at an unreal world...”
ReplyDeleteWhilst listening to my electric wireless set this afternoon, I heard postulated the theory that reality is an illusion brought about by mescalin deficiency. This was subsequently expanded to include the proposition that sanity was a condition brought about by alcohol deficiency.
I think we can safely say that you are managing the sanity thing admirably.
As for reality, perhaps we could share a mushroom risotto at Malham?
Aye
Lord Elpus