Pub review
They say:
"Den of eniquite.dont go:-(" --kered trams
1/5
I say:
The Kronenbourg tastes more popular than the one I had yesterday in the Cross Rifles but then again why am I drinking french lager at the end of October? This place has an actual handpull on, a gift horse's mouth in Bridgwater and no mistake. In terms of dis-entertainment the 'Rifles had ITV, the 'Ball has Absolute Radio, -2 points for the former, -1 for the latter. David Beckham has never publicly acknowledged that this is the second outpost in his pub portfolio after the Walmer Arms in Notting Hill but I can see him as a 'hands off' sort of owner rather than, if you will, 'balls deep'. It's a split level bar with a sort of functional comfort to it. Lived in but not scruffy. Local but not rough, though I can only vouch for this on a Wednesday. It doesn't take great leaps of the imagination to see many of these pubs I've had a quiet, civilised pint in being a good deal less quiet and civilised come Friday night.
3 hours of sleep, 9 hours of work and 31.2ml of alcohol make Ben a dull boy. My mind is deadened and it drifts unpurposed, unhooked by some irreverent conversation at the bar, uninterested by some evocative decorative choice. I can't face a third consecutive sleepless night so I drink. It'll make for unrefreshing slumber but at least the lights will be turned off for 8 hours. I frustrate myself with the fantasy that I'd be writing silken prose about The Golden Ball if it weren't for the impediment of exhaustion. No, my thoughts are small and balled tight circumnavigating the inside of my head as if it were a slowly turning roulette wheel but never stopping to alight on a colour or a shape of any resolution. Like a Rothko the canvas is large but ill-defined, blurry this bleeds into blurry that.
The pub has an interesting feature in that stepping out of its rear door puts you immediately onto the grounds of a 13th century Anglican church. Extremely convenient should you wish to repent of the hard drinking, licenciousness and blasphemies that you practised inside the pub. Should you not you're basically in the church graveyard, also convenient at some point with those hobbies. Having said that this church seems to be most unjudgy of such things and welcoming to people of all creed, colour, sexuality and style. It's welcoming enough that a google reviewer felt compelled to say "Call your self a Christian church.?? Why would you have a Harry potter evening festival?? Do you realize it's witch craft , don't say it all sweet and innocent because it's not it's pure evil.. Satan is real and this is how he gets in". Accio brain. Pub 3/5 Church 5/5
Pub 3/5
Church 5/5
They say:
"Den of eniquite.dont go:-(" --kered trams
1/5
I say:
The Kronenbourg tastes more popular than the one I had yesterday in the Cross Rifles but then again why am I drinking french lager at the end of October? This place has an actual handpull on, a gift horse's mouth in Bridgwater and no mistake. In terms of dis-entertainment the 'Rifles had ITV, the 'Ball has Absolute Radio, -2 points for the former, -1 for the latter. David Beckham has never publicly acknowledged that this is the second outpost in his pub portfolio after the Walmer Arms in Notting Hill but I can see him as a 'hands off' sort of owner rather than, if you will, 'balls deep'. It's a split level bar with a sort of functional comfort to it. Lived in but not scruffy. Local but not rough, though I can only vouch for this on a Wednesday. It doesn't take great leaps of the imagination to see many of these pubs I've had a quiet, civilised pint in being a good deal less quiet and civilised come Friday night.
3 hours of sleep, 9 hours of work and 31.2ml of alcohol make Ben a dull boy. My mind is deadened and it drifts unpurposed, unhooked by some irreverent conversation at the bar, uninterested by some evocative decorative choice. I can't face a third consecutive sleepless night so I drink. It'll make for unrefreshing slumber but at least the lights will be turned off for 8 hours. I frustrate myself with the fantasy that I'd be writing silken prose about The Golden Ball if it weren't for the impediment of exhaustion. No, my thoughts are small and balled tight circumnavigating the inside of my head as if it were a slowly turning roulette wheel but never stopping to alight on a colour or a shape of any resolution. Like a Rothko the canvas is large but ill-defined, blurry this bleeds into blurry that.
The pub has an interesting feature in that stepping out of its rear door puts you immediately onto the grounds of a 13th century Anglican church. Extremely convenient should you wish to repent of the hard drinking, licenciousness and blasphemies that you practised inside the pub. Should you not you're basically in the church graveyard, also convenient at some point with those hobbies. Having said that this church seems to be most unjudgy of such things and welcoming to people of all creed, colour, sexuality and style. It's welcoming enough that a google reviewer felt compelled to say "Call your self a Christian church.?? Why would you have a Harry potter evening festival?? Do you realize it's witch craft , don't say it all sweet and innocent because it's not it's pure evil.. Satan is real and this is how he gets in". Accio brain. Pub 3/5 Church 5/5
Pub 3/5
Church 5/5
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