PigBlog

As is traditional, I went to Walsall Beer Festival. Unusually, I went in the day on Saturday, hoping to avoid some of the beers running out, and have it not so busy.

It worked, to some degree, but there were still a few notable beers that had run out: Backyard Brewhouse‘s Chinook IPA had gone, so we had to take a post-festival visit to The Fountain for that (well worth the trip). In all we found 5 or 6 beers no longer available: it seems everyone likes the same sort of beer (pale, hoppy ales and IPAs) as us.

Beyond that, it was great. There was still a good choice of great beer, decent food on offer from the town hall restaurant, and a friendly, relaxed atmosphere, so a big thanks and kudos to Walsall CAMRA for a great job. My one slight complaint? More seats required- us poor middle-aged types with kanckered legs and backs can’t stand for long. We did find seats, but they were in short supply.

Next year, I reckon, it’ll have to be a day off and visit on Thursday afternoon.

My bike has been stolen, from the Barns Lane area of Rushall this morning. My own stupid fault in one way- it was unlocked.

It’s a Forest Green GT Nomad Hybrid bike, similar to this one:

A bike similarish to my stolen GT Nomad. Click to enlarge.

with a 19″ frame, a black back wheel (the front is the original silver-coloured one). The bash ring on the chainwheel is missing, and the brake cable outers are silver rather than the original black, so it’s fairly distictive.

[edit]
Here’s a picture of an almost identicatal bike (front). Note mine has the bash ring on the chainwheel missing, silver brake cables, and a black back wheel, and this one (an unknown colleague’s) has had a replacement saddle, which mine needed…

An almost doppelganger.

I was back in Bournemouth Network Monkeying again recently- 4 years on, the town has declined a bit, but there’s still good restaurants and a couple of decent pubs. This time, the weather was mostly cold, but Easter Sunday was stunningly bright, and felt like we might see a spring, maybe: the only snow there was on the trucks colleagues took down, so returning to WS9 was a bit of a shock, with snow still on the ground.

Even with the decline, and the seafront drinkers at 8am, I like Bournemouth: it’s a proper town, but also has the seaside- a nice beach, a pier. Bugger me, the drink’s expensive though.

I’ve bought a slide scanner, and I thought some readers might like to see this photo of Pelsall Common in the early 70s, taken by my late father. It’s me, my mom, and (I think) a next-door neighnour who was friends with my sister stood around my Dad’s Wolseley 16/60 on Pelsall Common- the railway bridge at Fordbrook Lane/Vicarage Road is in the background.

Me and family on Pelsall Common, circa 1973. Click to embiggen.

It makes an interesting contrast with this Google Streetview image form around the same place in 2012:

A similar view in 2012

I can’t work out if the fancy wall and gates are there, but obscured- will have to look.

Yesterday, I’d arranged to meet the Willenhall Lad for a beer, as the rather fine Pretty Bricks had a beer festival one. First, however, was the task of programming the fancy catflap. This should be a simple task. Remove catflap from door to prevent unwanted escapes, set into program mode, and wave near cat. The whole process took around a minute with Meowth. This was, of course, misleading. Meowth was famously laid back and compliant, not usually traits associated with cats.

Our new children were not feeling cooperative. Three quarters of an hour, two stressed parents, two very, very stressed cats, a severe loss of temper on my part, and some nasty injuries later:

A bruised and bitten arm: just a subset of injuries suffered in a man-vs-cat fight.

We manage it. The cats have now been hiding under the bed for 24 hours. They’re quite big.powerful cats, but nervy as hell, and have a strong fight-or-flight instinct.

Still, the beer and curry was nice . As well as the Bricks, we managed The Fountain, The Victoria, and The Bell, all of which were great.

Tripping running for a bus on the way home, and landing flat out in slush and grit was less so, then washing my wallet along with my coat and jeans irritated a little…

A sad start to Christmas day: Meowth has been unwell for a while, and extensive tests at the vet revealed cancer a few weeks back. We knew it was a matter of time, and this morning was that time: she was having trouble breathing and was unhappy. One trip to the emergency vet clinic, including having to pull over on the way home because I couldn’t see to drive, and we’re without our furry friend: we watched her drift away under anaesthetic peacefully, and she’s now at peace buried in the garden.

More than a furry friend- a member of the family, our child substitute, and a very special cat- not always the brightest, but good-natured, friendly and just lovely. She made firends with everyone, including the vets that treated her. Her ‘official name’ was Meowth, but she only ever answered to ‘Puss’, at which she’d come running.

One of my favourite photos: sadly, crappy phonecam in poor light. Meowth the music critic.

There’s a few more photos in the Gallery. I’ll try to find and add some more.

When the hell did it become December?

I’ve not blogged for ages: things have been mad at work, we’ve been on holiday twice, one being such a distant memory that I won’t blog it. Now, it will soon be Christmas- where the hell has the year gone?

Mind, one great thing about being out of the country on the run-up to Christmas is that the continual assault of commercialism is greatly reduced: what is it about the UK?

We’ve been back and forth to the vets with Meowth, who now at 15 is showing her age too, and between work, that, and the usual general household errands, I don’t know where time has gone: there’s a Gertboard kit sat on the dining room table, exactly where it has been for nearly two months now, my bike remains unserviced (the Lupo got serviced by Midland VW as I couldn’t summon the time and enthusiasm), and the Raspberry Pi hasn’t even been powered on for ages…

Bathams. The mention of the word will have a beer drinker in the West Midlands thinking “oh yes”. Sadly, up in the Northern Wastes of Walsall, we don’t see it that often. The Four Crosses gets it occasionally, but not often enough, so when an article in Beer, the CAMRA magazine, featured the Bathams pubs, we felt we had to try at least some of them: off to the Black Country proper! Our bus mojo was with us all day today, unlike last time: 9 bus journeys, with a maximum of 10 minute wait.

First step was Brierley Hill, via Walsall- and a long bus journey on the 404H and The Vine for a couple of pints and lunch. Round the corner for the X96, and a short trip into Dudley, and The Lamp. A short walk into Dudley, and a number 1 to Upper Gornal, for The Bfrittania, then back to Dudley again: a trip out to Pensnett for the Fox and Grapes, then home via a quick call in at The Imperial to see if the refurb improved it (it had).

A pleasant way to spend the day: it sounds like a lot of drinking, but the logistics of it (my better half spend some time researching bus routes) mean that this took around 8 hours to complete, and we had to leave out some pubs. We could have easily stayed in a couple of them longer too. Can we investigate a direct rail link from Walsall Wood to Brierley Hill please?

Yesterday we met up with the Willenhall Lad, him having secured the correct exit visa from the Principality of Essington into the People’s Republic of Bloxwich. this is something we’ve done before: Bloxwich is conveniently located, and has previously offered a good choice of pubs, along with a notably fine curry house. We decided we were long overdue a walk, so a wander across the fields, off to Pelsall and The Railway.

Things are not so good over the border though: first of all, one en-route stop off is boarded up, which is sad: despite it’s location it was a nice pub at one time. The next stop-off has just re-opened, but seems a shadow of itself.

A perennial Bloxwich favourite, The Bell saved things, but sadly, provided the only really nice pint of the evening- The Turf was shut at this point, and our revisit later was spoiled by beer that we didn’t really like, rather than there being anything wrong with it.

We thought we’d try a swift one at The Royal Exchange: sadly, this had been unsympathetically ‘renovated’, and the Pedigree was foul, so we moved on.

Anyway, with the turf being shut, and our companion refusing entry into The Prince of Wales, and the George being boarded up, The Bulls Head being a) Awful, and b) Burnt down, we headed for The Thatched House. Well, the staff were friendly, but that was all I could find to say nice. The Spring Cottage didn’t exactly make up for it, so we headed for (excellent) Curry, followed by a swift one in The Turf, and home.

Much conversation that evening took a similar line to this post on the lad’s blog: What is happening to proper, community pubs, with good beer and good atmosphere? They do exist, but so many pubs are tired, scruffy, noisy, unwelcoming places- It is possible to make money running a pub- I can suggest several excellent pubs and countless acceptable ones- but some people seem determined to run them into the ground.

It’s been a few years since I’ve been to Glasgow, but I’ve had two trips there this year, both for work: the first just a one-dayer, the second was my usual Easter excursion for Network Monkey Business. So sadly, didn’t get to see much, but I still love the city: the buildings, the Necropolis, the people, and the pubs. I *did* visit a couple of the latter, but the only glimpse of buildings was in a taxi, or on a short walk to a restaurant.

I was really struck this time by the friendliness of people: staff in pubs and restaurants and people we worked with: Glasgow has a reputation for drunkenness and violence- while there was a fair bit of drunkenness (I’ve never seen so many Buckfast bottles (“ah yes, the neds drink it to get hammered”, a Glaswegian colleague said) in one place as a walkway from a station, and one pub was full of fairly drunk blokes), not a hint of violence, even with the Celtic-Rangers match buildup. Glasgow has culture in spades too, so we must go back. Mind you, I said that about Belfast in 2007…