Books Although I chose his as one of my books of the 2010s there was always a chapter outstanding, "Frenzied Poets and Sober Men" a pub crawl, which for someone who doesn't drink and can only have decaff coffee anyway was always going to be a bit useless. Bereft of company in the end and not wanting to leave a project uncompleted, yesterday morning I crisscrossed the city centre visiting all of the drinking houses chosen by the author. Incredibly he ignores the Ship and Mitre, The Excelsior and The Cavern.
Only a couple were open. About half way through I stopped into The Poste House on Stanley Street which was one of my Dad's haunts back when he was working, mostly famous for apparently being Hitler's local when he was reputedly in the city. There's a photo of him on the wall to commemorate this under which I nursed a blackcurrant soda. Later on, I stepped into the Globe near Clayton Square briefly (no Shakespeare connection as far as I can tell). For once, no one was singing, which is rare. I did not stay.
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