The Harefield, Harefield, Middlesex   1 comment


Pub #2081:

Jackie had to do some shite in Uxbridge ahead of an emergency trip to the States and I went along to try to keep her focused (it has been a rough several weeks for the little lady).  Once she was down to too-few-errands-to-need-me, I ran off to the canal path for a bit of fresh air and exercise. The wind and rain were bracing even though the run was only a few miles to Harefield where I would eventually catch the bus home. Checking my sodden map as I emerged there from a neighbourhood side street, I spotted my bus stop straightaway and, just to the left, a pub!

Inside the Harefield I found several fine choices on the pumps and got something — like myself — alcoholic, bitter, and a bit oilier than you might expect. I moved to the fire and one fine fellow made extra room as I propped my saturated shoes on the grate.

“Is that your chef there?” asked one of the blokes at the bar indicating a guy in cook’s kit standing in the rain outside.

“No, I think he just wandered up,” said the bartender after carefully studying the guy. Door-to-door chefs … strange times, indeed.

I spotted the 331 bus making the turn a few hundred meters away and emptied the rest of my glass. “You keep a damn fine bus shelter, here, sir,” I said as I returned my glass. He thanked me and the rest wished me well as I sloshed out into the rain again.



Posted April 4, 2018 by Drunken Bunny in Pubs

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One response to “The Harefield, Harefield, Middlesex

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  1. Pingback: Kebabland, Harrow, Middlesex | The Endless British Pub Crawl continues...

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