Three Days in Paradise

Apparently the people who turned up at the legendary Tan Hill Inn for a New Year bash were unfortunate enough to get snowed in. They were "stuck" there for three days at the highest pub in Britain and had to make the best of it. The manager charged them ten pounds a night (what a bargain!) to doss down in the pub and roaring fires were kept going twenty four hours of the day. The picture shows the fire they keep going in the summer (it's necessary, believe me) in the barn-end room.

Each day, volunteers went out with the manager to dig out and service the generator.

And, despite their best efforts, he didn't run out of beer! I cannot think of a better "misfortune".

Stonch's End

So my son Stonch has quit writing his beer blog. Well, I can understand it, as keeping up with these things is very hard when you're a busy man. Actually, he told me of his intentions when he came "home" for Christmas and we were having one or two (it turned out to be eight) beers at the Big Lamp Brewery. Like all sensible fathers whose son has reached 21, I made no attempt to advise him. He may be right - he has got a lot out of the experience, but maybe it's time to move on.
Reading the comments on his "last post", by the way, I feel I must respond to "Anonymous" who refers to my son as a "deluded count". Not only are you unable to spell, mate, but you are totally wrong. I assure you that my son has no titled people in his ancestry.