Yesterday saw us take what is now for us a short drive to the coast. A little place by the name of Horsey as it happens. Primarily our mission was to gawp at, and go gooey eyed over, the baby seals, but it's never good to do that sort of thing on an empty stomach, so sustenance was sort.
Sustenance came in the shape of a nice little pub by the name of the Nelson's Head. The place was heaving, with a constant flow of bodies in and out. We bought drinks and waited to get a table. We didn't have to wait long before our opportunity came. This pub is clearly used to and geared up to cope with waves of customers. All the staff were friendly, and appeared un-phased by the amount of custom they were dealing with. We ordered cod and chips, which we didn't have to wait too long for, and despite probably being out of a packet, was well cooked and tasty. Liquid refreshment came in the form of Woodforde's, one pint of Wherry and one of Nelson's Revenge. The Nelson's Head is in the Good Beer Guide, and quite rightly so.
It's a cosy pub where a lot is packed into a small space, and all without added claustrophobia. The walls are festooned with old guns of all shapes and sizes, gin traps and portraits of the man himself, Horatio Lord. Every so often someone would pop out from behind the bar and put another couple of logs on the fire. Any pub that has a roaring fire on a cold winter's day, along with a punt gun over the mantelpiece, is alright in my book.
What a great way to spend a winter's lunchtime.