With a long run at a faster pace than I have been doing planned Sunday, today was given over to a leisurely and quite short trip through Even Swindon, the little buurt to the west of Rodbourne Road (it is Even Swindon because Old Town is on the hill, Swindon is in the hole and this part is on ‘the Even’). Looming large on Redcliffe Road a mid-Victorian house emerged. It was huge and looked like a 19th century school or hospital, but signs on it said ‘beer’ so I rushed in.
The publican was having a smoke with a mate and saw me taking the photos assuming I was on some sort of treasure hunt…first time I’ve heard that one and I wish I’d had the presence of mind to go with it and concoct some sort of bullshit back story but there were more pressing matters at hand. The Courage Bitter had just run out and London Pride was still settling. I got a Kronenberg which was perfectly ice-cold and sat beneath a sign that proclaimed the ‘house dedicated to the consumption of fine cask ales,’ ironically. Well, dedicated to hospitality at least.
The interior is as impressive as the outside with a lot of the original woodwork in place. There are large tables about and I would suspect food is put on. To find out any details, though, you have to spend time there and ask the landlord; with almost no web presence to speak of and tucked away down this quiet residential street you pretty much have to know it was there in the first place (or be a besodden jackass that explores unknown areas systematically and systemically).
The Endless British Pub Crawl 