Just Keep the Ferrero Rocher Circulating
Last night's mini tour of Maldon was an ideal opportunity for our diplomatic corps to shine. It gets to the point where you can only sit back and wonder at how they manage it.
I arrived (only slightly late) to find the Famous Witham Peloton (Huggy, Hustler and Doc Brown) in their ready formation outside the Carpenter's Arms. Apparently it was quiz night and as the FWP was shorn of its largest brain with Oaky's continuing MIA status, they had concluded a quiz was no place for them. Luckily the Blue Boar is a short hop and it gave Gandalf the snotty and I a chance to watch the FWP form into their brief journey triple line formation and speed across the cobbled park to the bike security zone. We were soon joined by Tomsk.
Things did not improve much in the BB. After the early disappointment of the Brewer's Gold finishing with only one sample poured, we had a momentary uplift with a finely kept Bishop Nick 1555. The arrival of Crouch Vale's Amarillo, normally a reliable treat, was to spark our first diplomatic incident of the evening. Our Head Brewer is forthright in his views on sub-standard ales and had no shame in declaring to the barmaid that it was "alright if you enjoy drinking vinegar". The rest of us just kept quiet, held our noses and finished our samples. Worse was to come when the barmaid decided she had had enough and closed the pub at 9.30. The locals at the table next to us were not amused and decided to follow our Head Brewer out of the pub to continue the debate about his harsh review. Of course, Huggy was having none of it. He made it clear to his new friends that people drinking draft Guinness had no business opining on how anything should taste and headed off for home.
Luckily, I was able to tempt Lord Hugginsworth to reconsider with the promise of a digestif at 'Spoons. He really is mad for a pastis.
By the time the two of us arrived there, Tomsk had already secured our usual table. On our Epi ride it had taken the Second Battle of Maldon (* see historical note below) but, Tomsk's hardman reputation now firmly established, all it took this time was a stare and a shooing gesture to secure our barside vantage point. Here was a chance for Doc Brown to polish his ambassadorial credentials. It will be some time before the girls at the next table forget his arrival. No sooner had he sat down than he was back up again to slightly cock his leg and unleash an emission that you could taste never mind smell. Still, it cleared the bar area for us, allowing us to order more quickly.
We sampled Ringwood's Forty Niner and Hook Norton's Old Hooky and still had enough change to catch Arthur Askey at the playhouse, buy a bag of chips and pay for the tram fare home (according to our older members at least).
An inquorate Quaffers' Choice Committee would probably have picked Forty Niner but our senses were still recovering from Doc's dramatic entrance so it is hard to be certain.
I had some questions to put to our technical sub-committee. Unusually, it was not Doc that had control of the flipchart but our very own Igaro Wizard, Harry Snotter. His detailed drawings of how to piggyback the connectors and the visit to his bike for a practical demonstration even made sense. The hour's detailed discussion between Harry, Huggy and Doc immediately afterwards just left the rest of us looking baffled and trying to work out whether granularity was something we needed to worry about.
At least there is no early closing at 'Spoons so we made the most of the warmth while putting off the journey home in the cold for as long as possible.
As ever, the return journey was far better than feared and not just because of the beer coat. A clear sky with a full moon made for a beautifully lit traverse of the gritted lanes and as soon as the wind was on your back it did not feel anything like the below zero temperature showing on the Garmin.
That's at least one more venue to add to Huggy's boycott list.
* I recall there is not so much as an abandonded horned helmet or axe head to show the First Battle of Maldon ever happened despite the imposing statue of Brithnoth as you enter the harbour. The same cannot be said of the Second Battle of Maldon where there is video evidence of Tomsk's terrible rampage and where archaeologists will still be picking up fragments of stella glasses and bookies' pens in the next millenium.
