Pushing my way past the smelly old bar dog, I made my way to the bar (see pic). The smelly old dog followed, fraternising with my leg and sniffing dangerously at the parts most valued by mankind.
There were several real ales on offer and I asked the bored-but-friendly barmaid for a pint of Allendale Wolf. No wonder the barmaid was bored, by the way, as there was no-one in the bar apart from myself.
I had hardly taken my seat, however, when a group of three noisily entered the bar. Two were men whom I had just seen outside on the green, busily engaged in erecting a marquee for that weekend's Fair. The third was a trim lady, colourfully dressed in a red trouser-suit. She was no chicken, but she was certainly attractive and had the two men whipped to a frenzy of excitement. Peals of laughter rang out after every sentence and they filled the bar with sound. It was all very entertaining and I much enjoyed the floor show as I sipped at my pint of Allendale Wolf, a dark sweetish brew which was none too clear but not bad enough to be sent back. There's no excuse for this, thought I, a flagrant case of bad cellaring.
The almost-hysterical conversation turned to "San Tropez" and "seafood" and some tale about waiters which led to the lady in red doing a most alluring shimmy, causing eyes to pop and the volume to escalate.
Really, I was exhausted by the time they left, leaving behind a trail of shrill laughter which seemed to hang in the air.
Meanwhile, I had passed on to a pint of Allendale Bitter, which turned out to be indeed bitter, though not sharp enough for my taste, and served too warm. However, it was clear enough, so it was better than the Wolf. I shall have to give the Allendale Brewery another chance in the future, as I'm afraid that the Golden Lion was not a good advertisement for its products on the day I visited.