Society is riddled with
baseless advice about things which seem appealing but should be
avoided at all costs.
We should never,
apparently, meet our heroes because they will be a horrible let-down.
Footballers must never
re-sign for a club where they have previously played because it will
send their careers into terminal decline.
And I was always told
(though I forget by who) that you cannot contrive to recreate a happy
experience and expect it to be as good as you remembered.
But my happiest
memories don't involve unforgettable holidays, stunning dawn sun
rises or moments of epiphany.
No, the majority of my
happiest moments involve good pubs and real ale.
So I find I am
regularly able to create my perfect sunrise without too much fear of
disappointment.
But after a great night
in Lancaster last week, I was a little reticent about going back, in
case I could not stumble upon another beery coup.
But thankfully, as soon
as I came upon the splendid Dalton Square and slapped eyes on The
Borough, my concerns melted away.
Unlike most pubs, where
the bar is the most dominant eye catching feature, in The Borough it
is hidden away to the side, an almost forgotten afterthought.
Instead you step into a
lavish parlour with chandeliers, sumptuous leather settees and, to
Miss Chardonnay Sidekick's delight, a rocking chair which kept her
entertained for the duration.
Her only regret was
having forgotten to bring her knitting!
The restaurant area was
also popular and seemed to be doing a roaring trade but I was less
interested in this than the gem which was concealed behind the
bustling diners.
I picked my way through
the restaurant, pushed open the back doors and slipped into a dream.
Under large canopies
among great big trees and twinkling lights, sat serene drinkers, as a
barbecue sizzled in one corner and music bounded from another.
It was perfect. I stood
motionless and confused.
'Am I asleep? Or is the
restaurant door some strange portal into another beer dimension, the
likes of which I could never have imagined?'
I stepped back into the
restaurant to test it again but it was still there.
'Ben in Beer
Wonderland. That's what I will call this', I proclaimed as I dashed
back into the pub, to tell Miss Chardonnay Sidekick of my revelation.
'I'm not moving, I like
this rocking chair', she growled..
'It's out of this world
I replied, 'You'll love it. And where did you get that knitting from
anyway?'
Engrossed in someone
else's cross stitch, I left Miss Chardonnay Sidekick and floated back
into Ben in Beer Wonderland, knowing I can recreate the most perfect
epiphany, whenever I like.
*You can follow me on Twitter @RobinsonBee
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