The last pub belongs to the infamous Humphrey Smith, so radio silence was maintained throughout. Decent pint of Taddy Lager in front of a roaring fire though, and a lovely glazed brick corridor that I wasn’t allowed to take a picture of.
A pub I must have walked past a hundred times without ever considering popping in, but as I’m on a mission to do as many Whitby pubs as possible this week I though “Why the heck not!”. And I’m glad I did. Warm, friendly, a harbour view and good beer.
In other news, I managed to come out without my reading glasses (despite owning hundreds of pairs of the bloody things), so I just popped into Boots, and £15 later I can see again!
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