A day in Liverpool

The day after Bank Holiday Mondays' disturbing events in Liverpool, Mrs PBT's and I spent some time time ashore in the city. The incessant rain didn't help lift the rather sombre mood in the city, although it didn't seem to deter tourists, or indeed cruise ship passengers. There was an air of excitement onboard ship, as Princess Anne had been due to visit the ship that day, and my good lady wife was keen to catch a glimpse of the royal personage. The Princess Royal's schedule was delayed, because quite understandably the royal personage had stopped off to visit one of Liverpool's hospitals where people injured in the previous day's "incident" were being treated. 

It was my wife's idea, rather than mine, to indulge in a spot of princess spotting, although in the interests of marital harmony,  I went along with her. We ended up flitting  around the ship in search of the elusive "Mrs Lawrence", although as things turned out, we'd have been better staying in our cabin. From our balcony,we would have had a bird's eye view of the royal party as they arrived, as well as saving ourselves a lot of dashing about. We apparently just missed the royal personage as we were getting out of the lift, not that it really bothered me. Five decades ago, when I was a student at Salford University, Anne's late father the Duke of Edinburgh, visited paid a visit to the campus in his capacity of  University Chancellor. Myself, plus a group of friends had been hanging around in much the same fashion, trying to catch a glimpse of "Phil the Greek", and were surprised when he wandered across to where we were standing, to say hello. 

That was then, and this was now, and once the Princess Royal and her party had departed, it was time for Eileen and I to go ashore. So, despite the rain, which by now had started to fall in earnest, we stepped off the ship and set off to explore the city. 

We headed along the water front towards the Albert Dock, and after stopping for the obligatory photo of ourselves by the statue of Liverpool's most famous sons, the Beatles aka, the Fab Four, found a convenient coffee shop, next to the Beatle's Experience. I explained to Eileen that there weren't many pubs in the direction we were heading in, and that we'd be better off climbing up the hill towards Lime Street station. She wasn't over keen on the idea, so we agreed to part company, and meet up back at the ship.

So, I set off into the city, in search of a few public houses. I had a few possibilities in mind, although one was probably rather ambitious. That particular pub was the Roscoe Head, an outlet that has featured in every edition of CAMRA's Good Beer Guide. That's 54 issues, at the last count, and the Roscoe is one of just five pubs to have achieved this distinction. Looking at Google Maps, it was about 30 minute's walk from the city centre, not too far, but far enough, especially in view of the heavy rain, so with no firm plan in mind, I set off in a roughly northerly direction to see what I could find. When we first got off the ship, I had a brief chat with one of the advisors from the Liverpool Tourist Authority, regarding the best pubs nearby, and the quickest, plus most convenient routes to them.

The area where the previous evening's incident took place, was still cordoned off, and to a much greater extent than I expected, so I continued up the hill where a block or two away, I noticed an Okell's pub I'd been to before. Back in April 2010, I enjoyed a pint of Okell's Bitter at the Thomas Rigby. I was on my way across to the Isle of Man, where that year's CAMRA AGM was taking place, and had a couple of hours to kill before the IOM sea-cat departed to the island. The Thomas Rigby was inaccessible, this time around, stuck on the wrong side of the police cordon, erected around the previous day's crime scene, but the nearby Railway, was well and truly open. Decked out in the livery of Robert Cain, a legendary, former Merseyside brewer, it looked very inviting, so I stepped inside.

 I discovered a well-laid out, multi-room establishment that was buzzing which, for a wet and windy, post-bank holiday,  Tuesday afternoon, was a real turn-up for the books. I ordered a pint of Higson's Pale, which turned out to be an excellent drop of beer. Higson's was another, equally famous Liverpudlian brewery, before succumbing to the advances of Boddington's of Manchester. 

The Higson's name has now been revived under the ownership of the Home Bargains chain  and, according to the barman, its beers are now produced by a brewery based in Liverpool's Baltic Triangle area.  I noticed the menu board on the wall, and found the prospect of a fish-finger sandwich too good to resist. At just £7.95 it was good value, especially when it turned up with a small wire basket of chips! With a pint of good beer, a tasty and filling lunch, plus the vibes associated with a thriving, and traditional city-centre alehouse, what was there not to like?

Whilst tempted to stop for another, I thought it would be good to visit another pub whilst in the city, so after consulting What Pub, set off along a side street. Unfortunately there was a police barricade at the bottom of the road, indicating I had inadvertently entered the exclusion zone surround the scene of Monday's incident. Retracing my footsteps, I stopped to take a few photos of what I thought was the other corner of the Railway, even though it was actually another fine, traditional pub called the Lion Tavern. I didn't realise my mistake until back on board ship, and only then after stumbling across the Lion in the book I was reading at the time. 

"A Pub All Seasons" by Adrian Tierney-Jones, constituted my chosen reading material for the cruise, and whilst I still haven't finished it, I've read more than enough to know what Adrian is getting at in this real gem of a book. I'll leave out the name-dropping, despite having met Mr Tierney-Jones, but without giving too much away (I will probably write a review of the book, in the fullness of time), the publication can best be summed up by the sub-title- "A Yearlong Journey in Search of the Perfect British Local." Starting with autumn, Adrian works his way through the four seasons, contrasting the mood and the atmosphere that he finds in journeys up and down the land. Two days after our cruise ship departed Liverpool, our intrepid author finds himself in Liverpool where, unlike me, he finds time to visit the Roscoe Head.

His description was enough to make me wish I'd called in at the Roscoe, but worse is to come, as on page 145, Adrian stops off at the Lion Tavern - the very same Lion I mistook for the rear of the Railway. I'd obviously missed another gem of a pub, and one which, if anything surpassed the adjacent Railway. It's obviously easy to be wise after the event, but had I been a few pages further on in the book, then I could have visited the Lion, alongside the Railway.

We're getting near the end now,  and I ended up at the nearby Denbigh Castle, thanks in no small part to the aforementioned police "exclusion zone."  Situated in the quirky named Hackins Hey, just off Dale Street, the Denbigh Castle is one of two pubs owned by the independent Small Hands Company. 

 With its attractive, blue-painted frontage, spacious and well-laid out bar, plus four cask ales, it was quieter inside the pub than was the case at the Railway, and there were fewer customers as well, but the pub had a nice chilled-out atmosphere. A pint of Heaps of Sheeps from Castle Rock Brewery, rounded off the afternoon, before I headed back to the Queen Anne, and a catch up with Mrs PBT's.

Any port in a storm - the James Watt, Greenock

Greenock, is an historic industrial town on the Firth of Clyde, 25 miles west of Glasgow. It was the fourth port of call, on our Round Britain Cruise, and the first one where we could just walk off the ship, and straight into the town centre. This made a welcome change from the tenders, or even busses, that effected the previous ship to shore transfers. 

Mrs PBT's was particularly excited about this easy means of getting ashore, especially as she had spotted an enormous Tesco's, whilst carrying out a spot of research ahead of arrival in Greenock.  The local authority are keen to capitalise on the town's deep-water berth, with its obvious appeal to cruise liners, and have constructed a modern Cruise Terminal, connected by a short walkway to the centre of town.

After disembarking, the pair of us headed into the town centre, and towards Tesco. You couldn't really miss the massive superstore, but being a supportive husband, I thought it wise to indulge my good lady wife's requirement for a spot of retail therapy.  She didn't really need any more clothes, in fact she definitely didn't need any, but somehow she can't resist the siren call of the clothes rack. To be fair, she bought me a hoodie, plus a T-shirt alongside a number of items for herself, but as someone who has been trying to slim down his already sparse wardrobe, a hoodie wasn't a fashion item I was in desperate need of. To satisfy my own "obsession" I purchased a number of bottled beers, from the Loch Ness Brewery, to drink in the cabin, of an evening, and I'm pleased to report that those I've sampled so far, have been very good.

Shopping expedition over, I escorted Mrs PBT's back to the ship, before setting off to explore the town, on my own.  I was in good company, as there were quite a number of Queen Anne's crew, heading off into the town as well. I'm not sure how much shore leave crew members get, but the groups I saw were all in a jubilant mood. They had all dressed down as well, which much have come as relief, particularly for the waiting staff, to get out of their stiff, starched uniforms. I believe the correct term is "de-mob happy!" As for me, a pint or two was on the cards, but in a country where cask is now quite thin on the ground and, totally absent in areas such as the Highlands & Islands (as we discovered earlier in the cruise), where would I find a decent pint?

What Pub threw up a few examples in Greenock, although as none of them seemed very inspiring, the obvious answer was to seek out a place where the presence of cask is virtually guaranteed. This meant, of course, the local Wetherspoons. I'm well aware that I've been quite critical of Tim's "barns" in the past, but needs must and all that, and the old adage of "any port in a storm" certainly applied to Greenock's Spoons. The Greenock JDW is named after local hero, James Watt the famous Scottish inventor, mechanical engineer, and chemist. Watt also gave his name to the unit of electricity, and whilst sharing the same name as one of the two Brew Dog founders, is obviously not the same individual! 

The James Watt, is an imposing, stone-building, which was designed as Greenock's main Post Office. It first opened its doors in 1899, and cost £20,000 to construct. The pub is situated just the other side of Greenock's main retail park, and was a bit of a hike from the cruise centre, but I fancied a walk, even though this would be my second trip ashore that morning. Like many other JDW pubs that began life as re-purposed, former commercial or financial buildings, this grandiose former post office lends itself to be being a pub. It was ticking over nicely when I arrived, with a wide range of customers sat inside, sheltering from the inclement weather that was sweeping down and across the estuary, from the surrounding hillsides. 

When I walked in, I found that a queuing system was in place, and with just one staff member taking customers orders and dispensing the drinks, ordering food was rather an issue. This isn't a problem for those familiar with the process, but for infrequent customers like me, it was rather confusing, as every dish came as part of an offer, that also included a drink. From past experience, I know that drinks included in the food offers, are usually limited to basic swill, such as Ruddles Bitter, GK IPA, plus whichever "cooking lagers" are on sale at the pub. Like I said, the opportunity for me to sit down and browse the food menu, hadn't occurred, and whilst I could have returned to the bar having done so, the queue wasn't getting any shorter.

So what about the beer? Well, along with the usual suspects, Abbot, Doom Bar, and Ruddles Bitter, there was one local beer on sale, in the form of Belhaven 80/-, plus an old favourite, Jaipur from Thornbridge Brewery. I enjoyed a pint of each, with the Jaipur unsurprisingly coming out tops. The 80/- was alright though, and it's good to see this traditional Scottish ale, enjoying a  bit of promotion. I have to say that sadly, I saw precious little cask being poured, during my visit. Fortunately, the two cask ales I tried were both in reasonable form, and made a welcome change to nationally promoted keg lagers, and Irish stouts, that I'd been drinking at some of the other ports we visited, on the cruise.

As you probably gathered, I decided against ordering something to eat at the James Watt, and waited until I returned to the Queen Anne. After all, most of the food on the ship is "all inclusive." That aside, my visit to the pub showed the JDW chain in a good light, apart from the shortage of staff, and the same applies to the town of Greenock, itself. 

Stornoway and the Western Isles

Here are few more thoughts about cruising that have sprung to mind over the past couple of weeks. If you've read similar in previous posts, then please accept my apologies. My first thought concern keeping fit, an area that is particularly important, considering the amount of food on offer, and the easy access to it. Walking is one answer, although there are other activities such as deck quoits, deck tennis, a couple of swimming pools, plus, for the real posers a gymnasium or two. I of course, stuck to the walking and whilst the promenade deck on the Queen Anne lacks the open sea views of the other ships in  the Cunard fleet, it's still popular with passengers. 

Two and a half laps around the deck equate to one mile, but despite signs indicating the direction of travel (clockwise), it's amazing the number of walkers who either haven't seen it, or blissfully choose to ignore it. That aside, walking around the ship is quite sufficient to clock up the steps, and I'm pleased to report that, most days I've clocked up the requisite 10,000 + steps. Using the stairs, rather than taking the lift, is another way of maintaining fitness levels, and as the elevators, as our friends from across the Atlantic like to call them, are often crowded, the stairs make perfect sense. Another point worth noting here, is the age of many of the passengers, and whilst I wouldn't like to guess their average age, I'm fairly certain it will be some way above our age of three-score years and ten.

Our cruise ship docked at Stornoway on Wednesday lunchtime, and once the crew plus the local port authorities had established a "secure area" around the perimeter of the ship, guests were free to go ashore. It was a 15-20 minute bus journey into the centre of Stornoway, with a fleet of  buses, providing a regular shuttle service, although for the fit and reasonably healthy, there was the option of walking into town. 

This was by means of an all-weather gravel surfaced footpath, which was visible from the path. The guide on the ship had announced that the walk would take around 50 minutes, although looking on the map, provided free by the port authority, I think this was a little optimistic. Despite these misgivings, I was tempted to give the walk a try, but as Mrs PBT's said it would be anti-social of me, that put paid to that! The contrast in attitudes between those of the Stornoway port authorities, and those of Invergordon could not have been more striking, (no pedestrian traffic allowed in Invergordon port!)

The following morning, we took the shuttle bus into Stornoway, and were very impressed with what we found. As well as being a work-a-day port, the town is obviously the centre of commercial life, in this area of the Isle of Lewis. We ended up missing the town's sole real ale outlet - the Crown Inn & Harbour Bar, although we didn't look that hard whilst trying to find it. Instead we chanced upon the Star Inn, a cracking little pub looking out across the harbour. Even Mrs PBT's who's not the best known connoisseur of public houses, had to admit it was a real gem. 

No cask, of course, but only to be expected in this part of the world. The beer offerings were Tenants, Amstel, John Smiths, Moretti, and Cruzcampo, a beer that seems to be the new Madri! As I wrote a short while ago, the frequency at which these new, trendy, and "must stock" brands pop up on the bar, is either a sign of desperation on the part of the big international brewers, or evidence of the fickleness of the "premium" lager market. Beavertown Neck Oil was also on sale, and I did witness a pint being ordered. I might have ordered a pint for myself, had I seen other drinkers ordering the beer, but instead, decided to play things safe. After all, keg beers can also suffer the effects of slow turnover. 

Instead I ordered a pint of Guinness which, whilst never my favourite, turned out to be in fine form. The friendly girl behind the bar, who served me my pint, apologised for the slow pour, and explained that she had just put a new keg on. The Star was definitely a "wet led" pub, because apart from crisps, no food was available - as a small group of Americans discovered. They were given directions by the barmaid to a couple of pubs that would satisfy their requirements.

The recommended pub might have been the town's sole cask ale outlet, although I wasn't really paying much attention.  Strangely enough, copies of Gael Ale, branch magazine for CAMRA branches covering the Highlands and the Western Isles, were on display in the bar, so I took one away, to read later. (The biggest CAMRA branch in the world, according to the cover, although we're obviously talking about geographical areas here!) The Star seemed to have its own band of loyal regulars, none of whom seemed perturbed by the steady stream of "strangers" coming and going from the cruise  ship, and all in all the pub was a pleasant and very welcome find. 

Had food been available, then I'm sure we would have eaten there, but instead after doing a spot of shopping. Mrs PBT's can't resit the shops, especially as there were branches of both Peacocks and Boots in town. There were a couple of items I needed from these two stores, so after purchasing our various goodies  we queued up for the next available shuttle bus that would take us back to the ship.

Back on board ship, we discovered that the Queen Anne is the largest vessel to have visited Stornoway. We wondered as much, because we were berthed at the recently opened cruise centre, which was specially constructed to accommodate vessels of this size, and to open up the Western Isles to cruise ships. By the time we sailed away, on Friday evening, the fine weather we'd enjoyed since leaving Southampton (and before that), was on the way out. The skies had clouded over, the wind was getting up, and the temperatures were dropping. Overnight we would be sailing in a roughly southerly direction, and heading for the Isle of Mull. We wouldn't be docking there, but instead would be experiencing what is known in nautical circles as a "cruise by." Unfortunately, the weather the following morning wasn't exactly conducive for us to fully enjoy the scenic views we had been promised, but that's a tale for another day.    

Southampton, via the A272 cross-country route

Our drive down to Southampton the other weekend, followed a different route from our usual one. I shall explain the reason shortly, but for a moment let's reflect on our usual drive which is to follow the A26 from Tonbridge, down to Lewes, via Tunbridge Wells, Crowborough and the Uckfield. 

It's a route I know well, after having worked for three years in Lewes, but as far as speed is concerned, the A26 is not the quickest of roads as it's single carriageway in its entirety. At Lewes, we turn onto the A27, which then takes us into the back of Brighton, close to Falmer and Brighton & Hove Albion's football ground, before continuing on past Hove, Worthing, Arundel and Chichester, before picking up the M27 at Portsmouth. From there it's a relatively straight forward run into Southampton - providing you don't follow the route suggested by Mrs PBT's sat-nav! That's a story for another day, though.

This time around, I was advised by a work colleague to avoid Worthing altogether, as the roads there recently have been gridlocked, due to cable installation, or some other "essential" task. My colleague lives locally, and because of the road works, advised me to seek an alternative route. He came up with the same road as me, which was the A272, a cross-country road that starts just outside Uckfield, and then continues all the way to Winchester. It's not the fastest of roads, as not only does it twist and turn a lot, but it also crosses several of the major routes that radiate out of London, like the spokes on a wheel. The A272 is a road I've long wished to journey along, as it would bring back memories of the time my father decided that taking the cross-country route, that avoided London, back from South Wales, was a good idea.

I think that like me now, dad wanted to experience a part of his youth, which was why after stopping off at Stonehenge (an attraction the family had visited before), he continued on to Winchester where, up on St Catherine's Hill he'd carried out various manoeuvres and other military stuff, as part of his National Service, with the 7th Armoured Division of the King's Royal Rifles aka, the "Desert Rats". Dad was in his element here, reliving the experience of, what he described as, "playing soldiers." He was also fortunate that his National Service only took him as far as Hampshire and Germany, as some unlucky conscripts were posted to active war zones, in areas such as Malaya, Kenya or even Korea, and quite a few of them, sadly, never came back. 

I've a feeling that on that trip we also visited Winchester's imposing cathedral, although that might have been on a different occasion, but whatever the case we picked up the A272 there, and continued on what seemed like a never-ending journey back to Kent. The family lived just outside Ashford at the time, so not only did we have the whole of the A272 to travel along, but there was then the added "bonus" of the rural route across to Tunbridge Wells, followed by the A262 back through Goudhurst, Cranbrook and several other villages further east. 

In short, the journey took an age, but my father seemed to relish it, and it was almost certainly the inspiration for me wanting to repeat part of that monumental drive. There were places such as Petworth and Petersfield, with similar sounding names, that stuck in my mind, there were also several "hursts" along the way as well (Midhurst, Billingshurst), and whilst hurst is a common suffix in the Wealden areas of Sussex and Kent, these places had a certain appeal about them, that like my father, I also wanted to experience again. The fact that some of these places, whilst not quite on my doorstep, are close to home, was also not lost on me either. 

So, shortly after 8.30am, on a bright and sunny Sunday morning, Eileen and I set off on our drive down to Southampton, in order to join our cruise ship. I'm not going to describe the whole journey, but the strange thing is that 50+ years after that journey along the A272, none of the towns and villages we passed through, looked remotely familiar! 

This didn't matter though, and if anything added to the experience, although the drive from Uckfield to Petersfield did seem to take an inordinately long time. The road now bypasses certain towns, such as Haywards Heath and Billingshurst, although I don't think it did 50 or so years ago. There are plenty of twists and turns along the way, and some quite narrow stretches as well. The A272 isn't a road for putting your foot down either, and most of the way we were lucky to make 40mph, but despite the slow progress it was a pleasant and enjoyable drive.

We stopped for a "comfort break" at Midhurst, which seemed a pleasant and attractive town, and a bit later on we passed through Petworth. If anything the latter seemed even more appealing than Midhurst, and it set me thinking, that this relatively unknown part of West Sussex would be a good place to explore further, and get to know some of its pubs. I noticed that Simon (BRAPA), has recently been GBG ticking in the area. I haven't got round to reading his reports yet, although I expect they will make interesting reading. I'm not sure yet whether we will be taking the same route when we return from Southampton, but I will be checking in advance with my colleague to establish the state of play regarding the roads around Worthing. 

Spoiler alert, after consulting my colleague, and finding the roadworks had been lifted, we took the southerly route, via the A27. It was not as attractive, but was considerably quicker.

A quick update as the cruise draws to an end

It's time for an update, and whilst I haven't posted anything for a week, or more, I haven't been idle. Problems connecting to the internet whilst on board ship, to say nothing of the cost, are responsible for my online silence, but I have been busy knocking out posts for when I eventually get home. 

One thing that hasn't changed though, is my inability to post photos, and whilst I don't think it's the same issue as the one affecting Simon Everitt, the end result unfortunately, is much the same. With luck, I can go back over the past four or five posts, when I get home, although please bear with me, as I'm straight back to work the day after we return. 

We're on the homeward leg of the voyage now, having departed our final point of call a couple of hours ago. The location we've recently departed was the
charming Irish town of Cobh, a place that found unwanted fame, if that's the right word, as the last port of call by the Titanic, as it set out on its ill-fated voyage across the Atlantic. It was the place where many of the poorest people embarked on the liner as they set off in search of a better life in the New World, a life that sadly, was not to be for many of them. As for us, all being well, we are due to dock at Southampton, on Sunday morning. 

Cobh itself though was charming, in fact I'd go as far as saying it was picture perfect. Known as Queenstown, until 1920, when its name was understandably changed following the creation of the Irish Free State, Cobh acts as the port for Cork. The latter is the second largest city in the Irish Republic, and the home to two famous brands of Irish stout, both of which are more than capable of giving Guinness, the country's most famous export, a good run for its money. More about Beamish and Murphy's later, as Cobh's style and appeal go way beyond the delights of two, very good, dry Irish stouts. 

The setting, overlooking several large inlets of the Irish sea, not only allows suitable deep water anchorage for large vessels, including cruise ships, such as the Queen Anne. Several fellow passengers claimed that Cobh reminded them of Cornwall, which is a description I would whole-heartedly agree with, as both locations are text-book examples of drowned river valleys, formed by rising sea levels at the end of the last Ice Age.

 It wasn't just the charm of the town and its multi-coloured, pastel shaded buildings, that ticked all the right boxes, for Mrs PBT's and I, it was the easy-going appeal of Cobh itself, and its inhabitants that sold the place to us. The weather helped as well, with the longest and warmest spell of sunshine of the entire trip. That's it for the time being, we've got one more full day at sea, and then it's back to reality - until the next time.

Newhaven - the Scottish one!

Although I’ve been to Edinburgh several times and have even been to Leith - often described as the Scottish capital’s port, I’d never been to Newhaven, let alone heard of it. I’m obviously familiar with the south coast town of the same name, but until the other day the Scottish one remained a complete mystery. However, I am pleased to report that I found the small Scottish, seaside port of Newhaven a pleasant and very welcome surprise. 

Stepping ashore from the tender, after a calm and quite scenic crossing by ship’s tender (lifeboat), from Queen Anne, proved to be a real delight, on a day that was bright, sunny and reasonably warm. After our small craft had tied up at the picturesque harbour, and I’d stepped ashore, my first task was to get my bearings, and then find a pub.

Fortunately, representatives from the town’s tourist board were on hand, dishing out maps, and dispensing friendly and useful advice. I’d already carried out a spot of research, via What Pub, and the two pubs I’d picked, seem to agree with what the "Visit Newhaven" ladies were saying. They also helped get me into Mrs PBT’s good books, by informing me of a large ASDA supermarket, not far from the harbour. It actually ended up making her jealous, as she would liked to have visited the store itself - we’re supposed to be on holiday btw, not shopping for yet more clothes!

Supermarkets aside, and with What Pub acting as my guide, I headed away from the harbour area and turned right along the shoreline. On the way I passed the Harbour Inn, the first of the potential pubs on my hit list. Advertising itself as a Belhaven house, it is of course a Greene King pub, and to their credit, the East Anglian giant has kept this heritage brewery, based in nearby Dunbar open. Deciding to keep the Harbour in reserve for later, I continued further along the coast to the attractive looking, and stone-built Starbank Inn.

The Starbank had that immediate “wow” factor, that screams out this is going to be a good pub, a feeling that was enhanced by the friendly greeting I received from the landlady. There was a fine selection of cask ales on offer, although a couple of them were shown as “coming soon” a la Wetherspoons. 

I opted for Lost in Mosaic, from Loch Lomond Brewery, and despite the beer being advertised as a “New World IPA”, thankfully, there were no signs of cloudy murk in sight. Instead, I was presented with an excellent, and easy drinking mid-
strength IPA that was a pleasure to drink, and a welcome return to cask after the bottled ales on the ship.

With no hint of any pressure, the landlady asked if I was looking for a bite to eat, and after applying in the affirmative, I was presented with the pub’s menu. A chicken and bacon sandwich, from the “lite bites” selection, fitted the bill, with a choice of white bread, or ciabatta. I went for the former, and when my substantial “snack” arrived it was well presented. I know, that in the past, I have moaned about the garnish that often accompanies such sandwiches, but in this case, it wasn’t just nicely presented, but was tasty as well – something about the dressing?

Although I wasn’t the first person to walk through the pub door that morning, I was pretty close to being that individual, so I noticed with interest how this experienced licensee used the same sales technique on everyone who came through the doors. By and large, it worked, especially with the group of Americans that arrived a short while later. Looking and listening to them, like me, they’d obviously arrived off the same cruise ship as me. It was worth staying for another beer, and this time I opted for an old favourite that I’d not seen in ages. Deuchars IPA is, of course, no longer brewed at the historic Caledonian Brewery on the outskirts of Edinburgh. Corporate owners, Heineken put paid to that, but whichever brewery is the new custodian of this beer, had obviously done a good job.

All in all, the Starbank turned out to be an excellent pub, and I was delighted with this choice. I conveyed my gratitude to the landlady as I left. Knowing I was only in town for a short while, she recommended I try the Old Chain Pier, an attractive looking, single storey structure, overlooking the beach. It was just a short stroll away, on the opposite side of the road, and with mine hostesses’ recommendation, ringing in my ears, it would have been rude not to give the place a try. 

It's a bit hard to put a handle on the Old Chain Pier, although the licensee of the Starbank had mentioned it was quite food oriented. This feature was amplified by the “Please Wait Here to be Seated” notice, just inside the door. I explained to the barman that I just wanted a drink, which was fine, and I was instructed to find myself a table. 

There was a reasonable selection of beers, so feeling adventurous I opted for Swan Blonde from Bowness Bay Brewing, before settling down to enjoy the view. It was interesting to note the large party of tourists, who I think were from Japan. I ought to be able to recognise people from that part of the world by now, seeing as the company I work for is Japanese owned, but it’s easy to make a mistake, and at the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter. What I did twig was they were students, and judging by the tags on their baggage, they had recently in Scotland.

The bar was pleasant enough, but it wasn’t a place I wanted to linger too long at (unlike the Starbank, for example), so after finishing my drink, I wandered back along the promenade in the direction of the harbour. Pleased to see there wasn’t much of a queue, I decided I ought to nip along to ASDA and pick up a few goodies for Mrs PBT’s.  It was an ASDA and a half, with a branch of Greggs attached, but the tissues, soap and snacks I’d been instructed to buy were sufficient, as far as I was concerned. The transfer back to the ship was uneventful, with minimal queuing to board the tender.  

Eileen was jealous that she had missed the enormous ASDA, but the crisps and Kit Kats went down well. As for Newhaven, well it was a very nice place, and well worth the tram ride along from Edinburgh, if you are ever in the area. There are also some photos, at long last, and the sharp-eyed amongst you will probably have noticed that I've been steadily re-editing the articles I posted, whilst on the cruise.