Tuesday, 16 October 2012

The Ackhorne: A Balm for Aching Cheeks

Bless our soul but it is frigid out there! Are your rosy cheeks being pestered by the frosty fingers of that hoary old North wind as well? On days like today (and yesterday, and tomorrow, and the day after that), one should round up a gaggle of sane and merry friends (unless, like us, you don't have any sane ones left, in which case you have to make do with the barmy ones), retire to the pub, AND STAY THERE. Keep knocking back the reviving fluids for as long as you retain the power to stay in your chair!
Here's a pub that we quite like. The staff are nice, the beer refreshing, and the carpets satisfactorily swirly.

Ah. The classic pub toilet! If you're looking at one of these,
you know you've followed the instructions above to the full. Well done.

The rude, healthy British tap, how do I love thee? Let me count the ways. Erm...
Bin in corner: tick. Tissue lying around: tick.
A very sturdy plastic hand-dryer.
A pub toilet without a carpet isn't a pub toilet.

The Ackhorne: achingly cosy. Image from Beoir

Let's round up a gaggle of points, shall we? Let us count the ways ... that's exactly 0 points.

Further Reading:
A Toilet Mystery
A Roaring Good Bog
Well, the Beer Is Good
Jorvik: In Rude Health

The Ackhorne
St. Martins Lane
York, North Yorkshire, YO1 6LN

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