A full day of resort hopping on day 7 made us hungry so we stopped at an inn near our resort that had a well recommended British pub/restaurant.
The Jolly Drayman seemed inviting enough.
And though it was a very small place with limited seating…
I was willing to like it.
It’s a shame I couldn’t.
What English pub worth it’s salt only has 1 British beer on tap? Where was the Harp? The Smithwicks? The Old Speckled Hen? Yes, there was Guinness thank God….
But Pabst Blue Ribbon? Come on!
It went downhill from there.
A limited menu.
A disinterested, unfriendly server.
Uncomfortable seats.
And the worst beef Wellington I’ve ever had.
The husband had a not nearly hot enough beef stew ( with mashed potatoes?) that must have weighed 12 pounds… served in a fish bowl.
Framed fart humor not withstanding….
I wouldn’t go back.
Day 8…. the departure.
One more breakfast under the canoe.
And beside the twig lights.
We checked out and said goodbye to the dangerous looking ski motif rocking chairs…
And laughed at the resort’s wedding advertisement for the last time.
Heck, that’s as good a reason as any… right?
Through one more covered bridge…
And because you know my husband can’t drive past an antique store.
Funny part is, I went outside to wait for him because the owner was a crotchety old man I didn’t like the look of.
A few minutes later the husband comes out and I can hear that old man screeching his lungs out like a lunatic, cursing my husband from here to next Sunday.
Apparently husband had the audacity to take an old magazine out of it’s plastic sleeve and flip through it. Guess that’s a no no in the mountains.
Anyway, vacation over.
Home safe and sound with…. how shall we say?
Some coffee and a few beauty products for my cabinets.
Hey, if they’re going to charge an extra $25 resort fee per day for that lousy condo?
I’m going to fill my suitcase on the way out.
The end.
(You may now officially breathe that sigh of relief you’ve been holding.)
Whew! It’s… finally… over…
I never thought I’d miss the half-finished barn and the groundhogs… Well, not true… I always knew I’d miss them…
LikeLiked by 2 people
Nothing makes you appreciate a few surly woodchucks more than a never ending vacation series filled with rocks. You’re welcome.
LikeLiked by 1 person
*Whew*
LikeLiked by 1 person
What’s your point?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Um………*shuffles feet*………..nuttin’ honey.
LikeLiked by 1 person
No spotted dick at that English Pub? Thanks for taking us along on the trip! I enjoyed all the rocks, bridges, junk, waterfalls, food, and fermented refreshments, if only vicariously through you.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I didn’t spot any dick… but you never know.
And you’re welcome. Always happy to bring my readers along!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Who knew Pabst Blue Ribbon was so cultured? I guess compared to a Dirty Dick it is…
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s a low bar…
LikeLike
How does that pub even stay in business there with such limited food and bee selection? Well I’m glad you got your fill of toiletries, and the end came with absolutely no rock…..*sigh*
LikeLiked by 1 person
Apparently it’s very popular with the locals… though I can’t fathom why.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Soaps and shampoos? I USED to bring those home as well – to get tossed out.
– Away with that garbage, I didn’t use it when I was out of town, why would I use it at home?
I’m sure your husband is proud of you – that might be how he started. 😆
For me, I’ve got this fetish (okay, it’s not a fetish) about condiment packages. And no I don’t have a barn full – I do have way way way more than I need.
LikeLiked by 1 person
If I bring it home? I will use it. And those little lotions are perfectly purse sized, so it’s all good.
😉
LikeLike
… well, the fireplace was made of rock, so it wasn’t a total loss.
I have met some majorly weird sellers at antique boutiques … must be all that dust …
LikeLiked by 1 person
He was beyond cranky and borderline nuts. Doubt he sells much with that attitude….
LikeLiked by 1 person
I LOVE bad food pics! Lol, as long as I’m not the one eating said bad food.
And taking all freebies is the first thing I do in any establishment… even if I’ll never use it. So I’d be disappointment if you hadn’t taken them!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I don’t usually take them… but I think being subjected to that horrible carpet for 8 days made it necessary.
🤣
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes, compensation for the trauma inflicted.
LikeLiked by 1 person
The table and stools in that bar looked uncomfortable, even from a distance.
LikeLiked by 1 person
They do… and they were.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I have enjoyed following along with you guys on this trip. How would yo know if yo want a magazine if you can’t look through it?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Glad you enjoyed it!
And I don’t know… maybe he was selling the mystery.
LikeLiked by 1 person
No spotted dick and custard? No treacle tart?! Where was the toad in the hole?
As a former Brit, I’m ashamed of that menu. It’s boring as all out. That Beef Wellington looked disgraceful and don’t even get me started on that beef stew with mash island… was it based on British prison cuisine perchance?!
Smithwicks and Harp are Irish but it’s easy to get Boddingtons, Bishops Finger, London Pride etc. If my local supermarket has them I’m damn sure a Brit pub should be able to!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It was a nightmare, start to finish.
Blech!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That makes me sad
LikeLiked by 1 person
Imagine how we felt eating it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Too bad the final day was so disappointing and included a scolding from a deranged shopkeeper, but I suppose all that made leaving for home all the sweeter. Thanks for the vicarious vacation with lovely scenery and fun jokes! Can’t wait to tag along on the next one. I seem to remember a hint about Cape Cod…?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks.
Cape Cod?
Well, now that you mention it, there might be a post or two (hundred).
🤣
LikeLike
That was beef wellington??? NO WAY! I had the same stew hubby had last week and wrote about it–there were more mashed potatoes on top than everything else!! It is an Irish stew called Sheperds pie.
At least 2 food pictures this post–not good but getting better! :O)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know, and make, Shepherds Pie. That wasn’t Shepherds Pie!
LikeLike
That’s why they didn’t call it that–were afraid the shepherds would come after them!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
As well as the sheep!
LikeLike
The fact that they misspelled “Guinness” on the menu is what’s making me the stabbiest.
LikeLiked by 1 person
In a so called British pub! Sacrilege.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I would have gone PBR with the Fish & Chips. 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
It couldn’t have been any worse.
Wait… it’s PBR. It could.
LikeLiked by 1 person
🤣🤣🤣
LikeLike
Wow, that’s a huge disappointment at the pub. I had to show my husband that stew and mash in a fish bowl atrocity. Why is your Wellington all red and weird? And why did they spell Guinness wrong?
LikeLiked by 1 person
All perfectly valid questions.
None of which I have the answer to….
LikeLike