My run from the Black Bull continued up Victoria Road but everything I saw of Ruislip on the day I liked. The shopping areas are varied (local and national shops seem equally represented), the traffic isn’t mad even in the town centre, and the neighbourhoods are pleasant (and while slightly more expensive than Swindon, it is still enough less so than Oxford to justify the similar commute time and expense should Jackie land a London job in the next few months). Ready to call the reconnaissance runs “done and successful,” I headed toward the Ruislip Manor tube station but spotted J. J. Moon’s, a Wetherspoon’s pub, just a few meters beyond. It would have been rude not to stop in for a quick one.
Inside, it is every other cookie cutter Wetherspoon’s you could hope for so I escorted the pint of Funky Monkey out to the porch and watched traffic and passively listened to the suburban London banter at the adjacent tables. The beer was good and hoppy and I suspect there were a number of different hops floating in the wort as the variety of flavours made themselves known, sip after sip. “Is that bubblegum,” I thought to myself, squinting at the glass then realising I was being cautiously watched by some of the others out this cool midday; maybe I said it out loud and not just to myself … it has been quite a run, so far today. Later, I looked up the beer and found that it, like the Lilley’s cider I mentioned in the Three Horseshoes post, is from Frome (the Milk Street Brewery, this time). Spooky.