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05 April 2009

THE OLI CROMWELL

It's like summer out there! The grockles were crowding Houghton lock bridge and St Ives is full to the brim. Swans are swanning about and performing for bread from the children and Dads & Mums are in their shorts for the first time this year.

The Oli Cromwell is a safe haven; it is cool in here and a refreshing pint of Wherry is slipping down nicely. The pickled onions on the bar are fat, crisp and tasty and the landlady knows her customers.

It's been a while since I have been on a walk on my own and I am surprised that I am picking it up with ease. You notice the smaller, more intimate things: The accent of the passing walkers, the detail on the dutch gable and the make of the sunglasses of the lads cruisng their cars around the market square.

The town is in flux ~ recently closed shops with white-washed windows, one or two new restaurants with eye-catching lunch offers and the more established eating places full of empty tables.

The Oli Cromwell is buzzing though ~ a great lunchtime stop.

1 comment:

  1. And the song that the name brings to mind - as packed with murderous venom as the namesake.

    Thom Fairfax - now there was a good Parliamentarian leader.

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