Duke of Wellington
Earlier in this blog I was careless enough to include a brief and thoroughly uncomplimentary mention of this fine bar in a review of the scumfest that is the Beehive. I humbly apologise, I was scared shitless, as anyone venturing into the Beehive without a facefull of tattoos would be.
This was the closest thing to the Crown Posada without being the Crown Posada. Fine beers, local customers. Where it was was a well turned out version of the Free Trade Inn in the centre of town. However a refurb and the wildly inconsistent beer stock meant it was just.. another pub. Follwing the refurb' there are bogs you re not totally terrified to piss in, though the aroma and eccentric plumbing means I'll not be having a sandwich straight after a piss.
A no fuckwits policy on the part of the bar staff means that the scariest troglodytes who crawl in from the Bigg Market are given short shrift and dispatched to Popworld for a Fosters.
It's not perfect, but decent management and ownership means that this place is back on the up.