I’ve had some great experiences in pubs over the past few years. One of the best was the Black Horse in Clapton-in-Gordano last year. That really was everything a good pub should be.
But, given the current climate, I often feel that a good visit to the pub is like an Indian Summer, a glorious day of autumn sunshine, but one of the last before the dead pall of winter comes in. Sometimes when I visit a pub, I wonder whether it will be the last time I ever have the chance go in there. (And not because I might pop my clogs in the near future!)
And I do seriously worry whether those welcome-to-allcomers pubs that strike a good balance between wet trade and food will still be around in ten years’ time. Even now, they’re a diminishing species. Let’s see...