Tuesday, 26 February 2008
Italians go to Cardiff
The thing about going away with Giulio the Singer is that he can't even start without toasting the trip. So, the luggage was loaded, the flight from Milan beckoned and he put the car key back in his pocket and announced the need for a glass of prosecco in the bar directly below his flat. The two young, er, lovelies work there. One prosecco led to another of course and we arrived at Malpensa with minutes to spare. The next day in Bristol we had the Mother of all pub crawls that started with Butcombe Bitter at 11.30 in the morning and finished with a wonderful pint of Fuller's ESB at 4.30 before taking the train to Cardiff to start again. Full marks to Bruno and Giulio who, as wine drinkers, acquitted themselves remarkably well in terms of consumption of ale.
Pictured is a Bristol pub where I used to drink at lunchtimes in my former life, The King's Head in Victoria Street. The old boy looks like he is about to nod off; happens a lot to people when I've had a few. Lovely pub, virtually the only one we visited that was unchanged. Bruno discovered he had a liking here for rough cider. Good boy.