In an effort to enjoy every iconic pub in this country sometimes we stumble and it this one we came a cropper.
With a bunch of mates we have lunch at the ‘B’ Hotel and it is memorable. I am ‘lucky’ enough to get the last serve of the daily roast pork. Funny we’re the first diners to order and they’ve only got six serves.
Now I know the true meaning of ‘bitter end’ because I am confronted with a plate full of bitter, chewy and dry, day old roast ends. Is it any wonder that they gave me a steak knife because even sawing wouldn’t cut through some of those pieces. The vegetables though were perfect.
Digesting lunch we walk around the tree lined shops, admire the foreshore and vow to tell our friends not to go there.