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White Mountains trip…. last night, last day, last post in the series.

39 Comments

 

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.

 

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The Jolly Drayman seemed inviting enough.

 

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And though it was a very small place with limited seating…

 

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I was willing to like it.

It’s a shame I couldn’t.

 

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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.

 

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A limited menu.

A disinterested, unfriendly server.

Uncomfortable seats.

 

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And the worst beef Wellington I’ve ever had.

 

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The husband had a not nearly hot enough beef stew ( with mashed potatoes?)  that must have weighed 12 pounds…  served in a fish bowl.

 

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Framed fart humor not withstanding….

I wouldn’t go back.

Day 8…. the departure.

One more breakfast under the canoe.

 

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And beside the twig lights.

 

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We checked out and said goodbye to the dangerous looking ski motif rocking chairs…

 

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And laughed at the resort’s wedding advertisement for the last time.

 

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Heck, that’s as good a reason as any… right?

 

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Through one more covered bridge…

 

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And because you know my husband can’t drive past an antique store.

 

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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?

 

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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.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

39 thoughts on “White Mountains trip…. last night, last day, last post in the series.”

  3. 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.

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  6. 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.

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  10. 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!

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  11. 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…?

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  12. 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)

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  15. 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?

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