Driving through the rather nondescript little riverside village of Halliton, Mrs. U.I and I espied the Homeward Belle public house, so we
decided to investigate. Pulling into the car park, we disembarked from our
recently-restored trusty Audi and made for the front door. The car park seemed
rather empty for a sunny Monday afternoon and indeed, a tug on the pub entrance
failed to secure us access.
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Stock photo of pub. |
It was now 12.30 and as Mrs. U.I. tends to get rather tetchy without a large
glass or three of Pinot Noir to calm her lunchtime nerves, I knocked loudly on
the door. After a few hefty blows, it was eventually opened by a middle-aged
woman who did not look at all happy to see us.
Undeterred, we attempted to go inside but the harridan (who we were to learn
later was the landlady) barred our way. “I’m very sorry, but we don’t open
until four o’clock on a Monday”, she informed us, somewhat angrily it has to be
said.
“That’s all well and good,” I replied, unimpressed by her less-than-friendly
welcome, “but I require a pint of your finest real ale and my wife is in
desperate need of a large glass of Pinot Noir”.
“Well sir, I’d be happy to oblige you if we were open, but we aren’t,” said the
harridan. “If you are that desperate for a drink, can I suggest you try the
mini-market over the road? Now do excuse me.”
And with that, the wretched woman closed the door in our faces!
Non-plussed by this monumental display of rudeness, I noticed with concern that
Mrs. U.I.’s eyes were now starting to revolve, a sure sign than a remedial shot
or two of Pinot Noir was required.
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Stock photo of cans of beer |
We therefore took up the harridan’s suggestion and ventured into the
Halliton MiniMart, where we purchased
three boxes of Pinot Noir for Mrs. U.I. for which she was most grateful. To
satisfy my own thirst, I chose to avail myself of two six-packs of Tolhurst’s
Businessfore Extra, an opaque and rather rich concoction that certainly greases
the wheels, and which was also on a “buy one, get one free’ offer that
represented excellent value!
As it was a pleasant spring day, we decided to wander down to the riverside to
enjoy our purchases, resolving to return to the
Homeward Belle at its appointed opening time, despite our initial
disappointment.
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Stock photo of wine in a box |
Time passed. Mrs. U.I. made short work of her Pinot Noir purchases in her usual
efficient fashion, being subsequently lulled into a gentle doze by the warm
spring sunshine. By now, the local school had obviously released its compliment
of children, who were
rather strange, being telepathic and identical, all with
pale blond hair and golden eyes. They regarded the loudly-snoring Mrs. U.I.,
now recumbent on her park bench, with a mixture of obvious trepidation and
pity.
Having finished the last of my own beverages, I looked in vain for the local
“facilities”, which alas, were sadly lacking. As the call of nature was now
becoming an irresistible clamour, I therefore decided to relieve myself through
the riverside railings, thus adding to the considerable outgoing tide, much to
the amusement of the aforementioned local schoolchildren.
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Men's toilets, Homeward Belle |
This simple and perfectly natural act unfortunately attracted the attention of
one of His Majesty’s Constabulary however, who then attempted to issue me with
something called a “Fixed Penalty Notice”! After some discussion, I eventually
gave him my personal details but informed him in no uncertain terms that I
would be happy to challenge his impertinence in the Magistrate’s Court, where
my long friendship with his Chief Constable (not to mention most of the local
magistrates!) would undoubtedly lead to my exoneration.
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Ladies Toilets, Homeward Belle |
After this interlude, I returned to find that Mrs. U.I. had awoken from her
slumber and had wandered off. Her whereabouts were soon revealed when a loud
stream of rather “salty” language emerged from a nearby clump of bushes. It
seems that Mrs U.I. had also needed to avail herself of the local facilities,
but in her somewhat befuddled state had unfortunately mistaken some nettles for
dock leaves!
Once order was restored, we decided to return to the
Homeward Belle. This time, the door was open and we ventured
inside. It has to be said that the dΓ©cor was somewhat basic, consisting of
plastic chairs arranged in rows around the rather stark white walls. The
cheerless atmosphere was rather redolent of a doctor’s surgery, but fortunately
the bar appeared to be staffed by two young ladies, one of whom unfortunately
seemed too preoccupied with her telephone call to pay any heed to me
Finally attracting the attention of her colleague, I announced that I would
like a pint of her best real ale, with a large glass of Pinot Noir for my
once-more recumbent wife.
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Bar of Homeward Belle |
“I’m sorry, sir, this is a doctor’s surgery, not a pub,” the erstwhile barmaid
informed me, rather tersely. “The pub is on the other side of the road,
although I would strongly suggest that neither of you have any more to drink…”
Ignoring her impertinence, I told her to mind her own business, steering the
somewhat disorientated Mrs U.I. out of what I now realised was indeed a
doctor’s surgery, and thence down the road to the
Homeward Belle.
Here, sadly, the welcome was once more far from congenial, the landlady
refusing to serve us as, in her words, “You two piss-heads have had enough.
Clear off before I call the Old Bill.”
And so, somewhat disappointed with our experience, we climbed into our trusty
Audi and (somewhat cautiously)
made our way home.
So, in summary, here’s my thoughts on Halliton’s
Homeward Belle:
Decor: ** Clean, but rather
stark and totally without atmosphere, rather reminiscent of a doctor’s surgery.
Food: ** The pork pies
and crisps from the local mini-market were basic but perfectly adequate.
Drink: *** An acceptable
selection, given the circumstances.
Price: **** The boxes of Pinot
Noir and cans of Tolhurst’s Businessfore Extra were very competitively priced
and certainly made sure that it was “mission accomplished!”
Staff: * Other than the
friendly chap in the mini-mart, I have to say that seldom have I come across a
more surly, rude and disobliging collection of serving staff in my life!
Toilets: ** Crude but very fresh
and open, although Mrs. U.I.’s lack of basic botany skills did cause her some
anguish at the time!
Comments:
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comments. However, we may edit or delete them, or manipulate the voting on them
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Grey Mondeo Man wrote:
Yet more completely pointless drivel from U.I. Like a couple
of old alkies, the two of them just sat on a park bench and got hammered. How
on earth does this make for a review of (this
comment has been edited for brevity. Ed.)
π-3000
Uncover Imbiber replied:
As you can see from both the
reaction to your intemperate comment and the favourable and completely
independent responses from my admirers below, your opinion is very much in the
minority. If do not like my output, please feel free to pass it by!
π+3000
Art. E. Fishall wrote:
I think these
reviews are excellent and very funny.
π+400
Clint Elligence
wrote:
I think these
reviews are excellent and very funny.
π+400
A Staffer wrote:
I think these reviews are excellent and very funny.
π+400
Mrs U.I. wrote:
My bum still hurts yor my bes mate you are I luv you bruv
hic
π+187
Gonads wrote:
Brexit makes things worse. Though nothing could be worse
than these “reviews”.
π-245