In case you were worrying I have not auditioned for a re-make of a shameful ‘comedy’ in which Nicholas Lyndhurst travels through a random time portal to the Second World War, and pretends he is a secret agent.
No, this is the real thing because I went and spent the evening in Ye Olde Blue Bell.
After just a matter of moments within, I was smitten; my heart was stolen.
And what could possibly capture the affection of such a, ahem, discerning drinker?
Well the price. A pint of real ale cost me just £1.60 and my friend’s lager weighed in at £1.91, meaning the round came to an astounding £3.51.
To think, for almost four years I have been traipsing the city’s pubs and never realised that within 20 minutes of my front door was a real portal to a decade ago or more which would, no doubt have the aforementioned time traveller trotting up north to give it a whirl.
Mr Lyndhurst (I’ll persist with the awkward analogy now) would no doubt be bowled over with the incredible time-travel themed prices which must be the lowest in Preston.
But he may also point out the white-washed exterior walls looked like they had last been painted when the average price of beer was £1.60.
I would tell him in no uncertain terms to stop being so rude point out its external appearance is a ploy to deter those who are not worthy of voyaging back to an era before every pint of beer was strangled with tax.
And if that didn’t work I’d tell him I’m not taking him in.
Aside from the bargain prices inside the Samuel Smiths pub, it is clean and tidy with lots of seating areas and snugs, which again seems to hang onto its original layout and character.
I can’t quite describe the colour of the walls and there are some interesting figurines dotted about the place but all things considered, from now on I will be jumping back into the Blue Bell time machine as often as possible.
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