Back on the Booze - After a Hiccup

Having been up since four a.m. to catch the six thirty three to Glasgow, I was feeling thirsty when I got off the train at Glasgow Central. I took the short walk to Queen St Station with a view to nipping into the Counting House for a pint. It was just before ten in the morning and a few were in, though no-one was at the bar. I should have been alerted by this, but wasn't. It's a fine big pub, an ex Bank of Scotland HQ with a load of grand features from a time when banks were built to impress. I ordered a pint of Rooster's Oakey Cream just to show I'm not entirely a stick in the mud - well OK because it was right in front of me. "Will you be having breakfast?" was the reply. "Er, no". I had been fed on the train. "Alas" quoth our fair maiden, "you can't be served alcohol until eleven."

Seems the laws have changed. She said as they are designated a tourist zone, no alcohol is allowed without eating, until eleven and then, just two drinks are permitted. I have to say I was astonished. Scotland lead the charge towards UK licensing law liberation and now it seems, they are reversing the process. Another victory to the anti alcohol lobby?

So I sat in George Square for half an hour watching the tourists - yes there were loads of them - and then walked the mile or so to Charing Cross, where my enforced drought was ended by two pints of easy drinking Killellan in a more or less deserted State Bar while reading the Glasgow Herald.

Just to be sure I was really enjoying things, I went to the Bon Accord too, where a very robustly hopped and bittered Inkie Pinkie from Inveralmond reminded me that water and lime is fine in its place, but is no subsitute for good old beer.