Friday, April 21, 2006

Cardigan Bay

In our travels around Wales we drove up the coast of one Cardigan Bay.

However, this made me think of another Cardigan Bay....
Famous pacer from New Zealand, the first harness horse to win US$1million and described as the "daddy of them all". Many famous victories for Cardy, including an Interdominion, two Auckland Cups, and a New Zealand Cup. The later being a famous victory seeing that he won it from a 54 yard handicap!

So big ups from The GrandMaster to Cardigan Bay (1956-1988).

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Man's Dilemma....

So cute

but so tasty!

Pub Watch: Dyffryn Arms (Pembrokeshire, Wales)

Back in February I read an article in the monthly CAMRA newsletter about a strange little pub somewhere in Wales run by an 80-year-old lady in what was pretty much the front room of her house. I had pretty much forgotten about it when traveling through Wales, but while fingering through the pages of my CAMRA Good Beer Guide I came upon a very familiar description of a "fascinating bar that resembles a 1920s front room where time has stood still". By happy coincidence, we had just organised to stay in a B&B only a few miles from where this pub should be and I was keen to pay the Dyffryn Arms a visit.

After a great dinner of Welsh Black Beef and armed with directions from our friendly B&B lady (a whole story in herself), we managed to steer ourselves through very rural Wales at about 9.30pm on a Wednesday night to (the very scenic) Gwaun Valley where the "pub" was supposedly located. If we hadn't been watching out closely for it we certainly would have driven straight past it. Just a non-descript blue house at the bottom of the valley with just a few other houses around it. All was pretty dark and I had resigned myself to just taking a photo of it from the outside. But then a dog started barking and as I was just about to jump back into the car, out opens a side door, an old lady sticks her head out, looks me up and down and abruptly says "I was wondering what that was all about". I realised that this must be the infamous proprietor - Bessie Davies according to the sign at the front of the pub - and sheepishly asked whether the pub was open. Just as abruptly she said yes and turned around and went back inside. Taking a few seconds to realise this meant we were suppose to follow, we locked the car and followed her inside. Into to a small corridor, she opened a side door and ushered us inside to what was the bar before leaving us and heading into another door on the other side - which we later worked out must be where she lives.

Now "interesting" and "fascinating" do not really describe the Dyffryn Arms. We had entered a small room that was no bigger than a bedroom, with a whole collection of different seating, one table and a small fire going in the fireplace. There were some funny old photos hanging on the wall and the whole place had this 'time stopped still' feel to it. Apart from the photo of Queen Elizabeth, looking considerably younger than she does now, there was also a photo of a Prince of Wales from 1896. However, the centrepiece of the room was the serving hatch with a sliding window and the mysteries that lay behind.









Needless to say, there was no one else around. Waiting a minute or so we could hear some movement on the other side of the hatch and then it slid open, the landlady stuck here head out and asked us what we would like. Behind the hatch was a small narrow room with some shelves directly behind with some random bottle of beers on it and a cask set up on the floor. She informed me that the cask beer was Bass and I ordered a pint and a half pint of that. She expertly decantered the beer straight from the cask into a jug, which she bought up to the counter and poured into our glasses. There weren't any price lists about, but it only cost me £3.10 all up for the finest pint of Bass I have ever had (not typically a great beer). I embarked on a few niceties and a few questions and must have sufficiently captured Bessie's interest as she decided to join us in the front room.

Looking pretty cold (especially with fingerless gloves on), Bessie moved a big old seat in front of the fire and proceeded to suffer a barrage of questions from me. She was actually reasonably talkative, especially considering she probably gets numerous visits from beer nerds like me asking exactly the same questions. But it certainly is an interesting story. The pub has actually been in her family's hands for its whole life - ever since the house was first built in the 1830s - and hasn't really changed since. You can nearly imagine those many years ago, when entertainment was much simpler, that bars like this were fairly common, people using parts of their houses to provide locals with somewhere to go and drink. Bessie herself had been running the pub for the last 56 years, she informed us, which is pretty incredible. And though it was quiet tonight, she said that in the weekend as much as 100 people can come to the pub and her granddaughter comes down to help her out (it sounded like her whole family lived in the area). Looking around, I was wondering where these 100 people went. Wednesday night is typically very quiet, but coincidently she had had another New Zealander in earlier that evening, a sheep shearer from a local farm (of which, apparently, there are quite a few NZers in Wales). I was also interested in why she stocked Bass as her cask beer - her reason being that it keeps very well for a cask beer (up to 6 or 7 days, which is obviously very important for a pub that is not going through a huge amount of beer) and is always consistent in its quality and taste. She clearly also has a keen knowledge of beer and cask cellaring.

I would have loved to ask her how long she expected to run the place and what would happen to it after her, but I thought that might be a bit on the nose. This pub really is one of a kind and I feel pretty lucky that I had the fortune to go there. We returned the next morning to take a photo of the Dyffryn Arms in the light of day and also the charming Gwaun Valley (you can just make it out on the left behind the trees). I guess it is unlikely I will have the opportunity to go there again (though I would gladly make a special trip up there for a good session on the Bass - Stuey, this place is for you), but I will never forget my pint with Bessie.


Wednesday, April 19, 2006

Pub Watch: Cherry Tree Inn (Wye Valley, Wales)

"Should not be missed" says the CAMRA Good Beer Guide - but it would be very easy to do so. Found up a little backroad not far from Tintern Abbey in the Wye Valley, it would not be a pub you would simple drive by, spot and stop at. I actually wonder how these places exist and survive. But thankfully they do!

And the Cherry Tree Inn (http://www.thecherry.co.uk/) was a perfect little stop on our first day in Wales. It certainly stuck out in the Beer Guide, "a gravity-lover's delight" was enough to sell it to me, so off I went in search of this little beauty. Tucked away in what I suppose you could call a village, though it is only a collection of 10 or so houses, which are group around a little bubbling brook. With enough parking for a Combi and a small car we had to park ourselves up on road. The building itself is an interesting affair, with a little post office and grocery shop downstairs. Upstairs is a rambling pub with 3 distinct rooms (one a restaurant), and a large bar with two servicing areas. However, what I had come for was behind the bar. There sat 6 casks in all their glory, though unfortuantely only two were actually on. I had a pint of the Hancock's HB - it was OK, considering I later found out that it is brewed for the Coors Group by the Welsh brewery Brains. But you just can't beat a gravity fed pint from the cask, it is just so smooth in the mouth. I also ordered a half of the Slaters Premium, but this was the last of the cask and unfortunately it had gone off (which can happen when you are drinking real ale).

As lots of these pubs often do, the walls around the bar were also covered with used pump clips (which they obviously wouldn't be using seeing they serve the ale straight from the cask). Some brilliant beer names there though, my favourite being "Ernie Ales" - maybe an idea for you Stuey to market a beer to local golf clubs. Most surprising (and pleasing) though, as we had our lunch, was how busy the pub got. By the time we left there must have been 30 people in there, and this during the middle of the day on a Tuesday. So I could certainly see that this place was more than just surviving and it is one of the reasons I love the beer and pub culture over here.
A Wale(s) of a Time

Well, wouldn't you know, Wales is a great place. And you wouldn't know it unless you went there. No one seems to talk about it or recommend it - it seems to be a bit of a hidden gem - so was pretty happy to stumble upon it. It certainly wasn't a planned trip - a last minute decision to take the week off after Easter, hire a car, and go for a drive around the "land of our fathers" (well, theirs anyway).

So we jumped into our luxurious Peugeot 206 (actually, it was a piece of crap and would constantly give us scares by not wanting to start, typically after making a stop in the middle of nowhere) and headed out of London. We had no idea what we were going to do, just armed with map, a Lonely Planet last used in the Dark Ages (well, 2001), and the king of travel guides - the CAMRA Good Beer Guide. Somewhere en route on the M4 the first detour was devised, a trip up the Wye Valley to visit two interesting sites - the ruins of Tintern Abbey and the Cherry Tree Inn. This would become a theme for the two days as The TripMaster would devise routes around two of his passions - medieval ruins and back country pubs.

Wye Valley was pretty cool and in our post-Iceland photographathon, neither if us thought to take a picture. So you will just have to take my word for it - it was very picturesque. I have got a shot here of the Tintern Abbey though, which was also quite impressive. It was here that we first implemented our cunning plan to avoid paying the £3-£5 entry fees for such attractions by just walking around the outside of them. I always prefer the outsides anyway, the insides are usually not as impressive and often you get some garish attempt to replicate internal furnishings. After a pleasant walk around the Abbey, we spent lunch at attraction number two - though The Cherry Tree Inn was so good, it will get its own posting.

After Wye Valley, we headed off into Brecon Beacons National Park (via another castle ruin of course). Despite the tongue twisting nature of its name, we really liked the BBs. It was here that we also first saw the star attractions of our trip - the spring lambs. They were everywhere, green fields sprinkled with little white dots. It was good to see that at least someone in Britain understands that the purpose of a farm is to have animals on it - in sharp contrast to the fields in England, where the standard appears to be one cow or sheep per 100 acres of land. That day and the next morning we simply spent driving around the little country roads in the BBs, frequently getting lost, but frequently coming across great countryside vistas. It reminded me somewhat of the Yorkshire Dales, but also of the NZ rural countryside - though a lot more picturesque.










That night I also got introduced to another highlight of Wales - Welsh Black Beef. This was without doubt the best steak I have ever had - and it wasn't even a fillet cut (it was rib-eye). It just had a delicious smoky flavour to it and it was perfectly cooked to my rare order (which is rare in itself). This was followed by an enormous B&B breakfast the next morning - the biggest I have ever seen, and subsequently (of course), the biggest I have ever eaten.

Departing the BBs a kilo or two heavier, we headed off from one National Park to another, this time the Pembrokeshire Coast NP. And this probably topped the Brecon Beacons. Stunning scenery again, great castle ruins, and of course, cool pubs. We also managed to find ourselves a room at a B&B located on a farm in the middle of nowhere. The very Welsh lady who ran it was a hoot, I think she laughed more than she talked - which was just as well, as we couldn't understand half of what she said anyway. She set us up to go to a local pub where I could have, you guessed it, Welsh Black Beef, and also gave me directions to a pub I was most keen to track down - the Dyffryn Arms, which most definitely deserves its own post.


After a night on what must be the most uncomfortable and noisy bed I have slept on - beating the bunk bed in Dublin with half the slates missing and the squeak-machines we got at the San Luis Obispo hostel - we used our last day to drive up to Snowdonia National Park before heading back to London. More a whistle stop through Snowdonia, as we had to head back to London that night, but still got a good look around. Again, great scenery, yadda, yadda, yadda - I think you are getting the picture that we really like this country.
In all, 3 National Parks visited, 7 ruins, 9 pubs, 2 Welsh steaks, 1 million lambs, and 18 new beer ratings. Overall, an unexpected brilliant three days in Wales. I would have loved another couple of days and it would be great to get the opportunity to go back. I certainly recommend it to others.

For some more pics, click here.

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

The Land of Ice
....and this may sound stupid, but it really is icy!

Though the trip to far off Iceland didn't start too well. Anna and I (unwisely) decided to accept an invitation to a dinner party the night before our flight the next morning - and that it early next morning, with a taxi picking us up at 5am. Promising ourselves that we would excuse ourselves early, we failed miserably and finally got a taxi back home around the 2am region and very much worse for wear. So much so that we completely slept through our alarms at 4.15am, only to be woken up by the doorbell by the aforementioned 5am taxi! Slightly bewildered and very much hungover, it took me some 5 minutes to get The GrandMistress to realise the seriousness of the situation, at which point ensued a few well placed expletives and pointless scurrying. 15 minutes and two selectively missed calls from Brad & Shaz (who we were suppose to have picked up 20 minutes prior), we were finally on our way....

After a much less eventful flight we touch down in sunny Iceland. Well, maybe not so sunny. In fact, we were met but what could only be described as a blizzard - making for an interesting cowering sprint (more a warble really) to our hire cars. With such splendid weather there was only one thing to do really - head to the hot springs. And not just any hot springs, but the Blue Lagoon.

The next day we embarked on the Golden Circle - not much gold, but plenty of good scenery. Also gave us our first proper look of Iceland. Certainly is a bizarre place, very harsh and barren, a bit like a huge Tongario National Park. Was also struck by how much snow and ice there still was (which does sound stupid considering the name of the place).










Apart from just enjoying taking in the whole scenery thing, there would have to be two highlights for me. First was Thingvellir - or the Rift Valley. It is where the Eurasian tectonic plate is pulling away from the North Atlantic plate - at a few millimetres a year. As a history lesson as well, the valley was also the site of Iceland's first Althing - which was the first recorded parliament anywhere.

The other highlight was the Gulfoss falls - the largest volume falls in Europe. And there certainly is plenty of water plunging through it. Is a lot bigger than this picture gives it credit for. The other major site on the Golden Circle is the geysir. Also quite impressive, more so the regularity at which it goes off, about every 5 minutes like clock work. Makes for great watching as new tourists come along not realising they are standing in the path of the water and steam that is shot 30 odd metres into the air.

Deciding to make the most of what was a beautiful (if not cold) day, we decided to head on down to the Southern coast of Iceland. This gave us the chance to use our 4-wheel drives (thanks for the upgrades Mr Avis) to drive up to an arm of the Myrdalsjokull glacier. Being typically prepared in the Kiwi way, we decided to take a short hike up the glacier, complete with trainers, sunglasses, a couple of muesli bars and a discarded crampon we picked up on the way. Despite the odd harmless flurry of snow, we managed to avoid igniting any Search & Rescue missions and got to muck around on a glacier like you would never be able to do back in NZ (where I am sure there would be a barb-wired fence 100 metres out and some guy in a security uniform who has just graduated from school bully).


On our only other full day in Iceland, we drove up north along the western coast this time. Maybe not as dramatic as the previous day, but still plenty of inspiring scenery. It did also include an eventful search for lunch. A piece of advice for all of you, when touring around Iceland on Easter Sunday, take your own lunch!

After all this tourist stuff, there was only one more thing to do tick off the list for Iceland, and that was to go out on the town in Reykjavik - the locals being infamous for their party hard attitude. In a irony I have noticed in all Scandinavian countries, where alcohol is supposedly somewhat of a taboo (beer was only legalised in Iceland in 1989!), they seem to be the biggest pissheads I have even come across. With alcohol quite expensive (beer wasn't too bad at about £4-£5 a pint, wine and spirits was ridiculous expensive - the govt must be collecting a fair whack of duty), the Icelandic usually have house parties until about 1am before heading out to the pubs and clubs. So in an effort to fit in, we did the same, doing a good job of polishing off the remaining wine and spirits we smuggled in the country. Of course, it looks like we Kiwi's aren't as hardy as these Icelandic folk, as before we even ventured outside we had lost over half our crew. However, Anna, Brad, Si and I steadfastly headed out in the cold to see what the fuss was all about. First stop was to stand in the queue in front of Sircus - a very bohemian bar famous for being the local hangout of Bjork. Well, when we finally managed to get in, there certainly was a strange mix of people in there and we certainly stuck out. The locals get very dressed up to go out, and our dress-down approach certainly put the "outsider" sign up. Neverthess, it was a cool little spot (very Cuba Street-ish) and the music was good. On advise from a local, we moved on to another bar a little more upmarket. After another 15 minutes or so queueing in the very brisk Reykjavik air, we were again into a bar that was living up to the Icelandic reputation. Managed another couple of drinks in between making fun of the locals before finally heading back to the pad at about 4.30am. Apparently we were not the quietist and certainly not the wisest (consider we were suppose to be getting up at 8am for our flight!). But it was all very much worth the pain the next morning (well, later than morning, really) as would not have wanted to go all that way without experiencing the infamous Reykjavik nightlife.

All in all, a great trip. We did have thoughts of staying on another couple of days initially, but the 4 days we did have was perfect and we fitted in plenty in our time there. I didn't think it as expensive as the reputation it bears either. Things certainly cost more, but that much more, and because there isn't really a whole lot of things to spend your money on, I think it is probably one of the cheaper trips I've been on. Certainly makes a difference when all the tourist sights are free and you are not being fleeced as you are often are around continental Europe. It is hard to believe people live there though. It does feel like a very remote and harsh environment (top temperature in summer is 17 degrees) and there really doesn't seem like that much to do if you weren't a tourist. However, this remoteness and harshness is also quite stunning and I am glad I got the chance to see it. A couple more pics to sign off on; the first I think shows how small you can feel in this place (see what looks to be quite a large farm house dwarfed by its surroundings); the second of the crew on tour and all that whiteness!



For some more pics, click here.

Wednesday, April 12, 2006

The Eagle and Child (Oxford, England)
Or the "Bird and Babe" as the Inklings called it.

And what visit to Oxford would be complete without a visit to this pub. Famous for being the favourite drinking spot of the JRR Tolkien and CS Lewis, along with some other friends, as the self-titled Inklings. The pub is OK, but the attraction (well to this Tolkien nerd anyway) is to sit in the Rabbit Room, where Tolkien would read out his just written chapters of Lord of the Rings for feedback from his confidants.
Pub Watch: The Turf Tavern (Oxford, England)

A day trip was had last Sunday up to Oxford to catch up with Andy, who was down from Edinburgh for a few days. We caught up at The Turf Tavern (http://www.robofdoom.co.uk/turf/), which has the following reference in the CAMRA Good Beer Guide: "Tucked away between the old city wall and surrounding cottages, this famous pub is sought out by students, tourists and real ale lovers. Two bars with low ceilings supply up to 11 varying ales".

And well worth a visit it was. Plenty of ales on offer here, and plenty of ales were tasted. Half pints of Elgoods Cambridge Bitter, Cains Triple Hop, Wadworth JCB, White Horse Flibbertigibbet, and Skinners Hunny Bunny were had, with the Flibbertigibbet being especially good. Also had the Sunday roast - the pork was good, but the lamb looked mighty fine.

We enjoyed the great outdoor patios first, under the warming spring sun. But then we were sent inside by a freak hailstorm. Settled into a big table inside and met a young Cantabrian who was on a two-year exchange with the British Army. Anyway, before the hail, I managed to get some choice shots of this fine pub.

This shot is of the back entrance to the pub, you walk some a cobbled lane and turn into this corridor, which opens up into the pub's back patio.

The patio was great until the hail hit, and the front of the pub had plenty of character. The outside corridor you can see to the right was to another patio, but also access to the detached toilets.





So a superb place to spend an afternoon - not that it finished there of course!

Sunday, April 09, 2006


THE PUFFY SHIRT...."I'm all puffed up!".
Free with Series 5 & 6.