Whilst staying at a holiday camp a trifle outside Penrith I popped into the town on Sunday morning to go to church and stumbled across a beer festival in the centre of town. If there is a God then she clearly loves me.
I was already impressed with Penrith the previous day when I fell of the train after a hellish journey and into the Agricultural Hotel. Other than the racist at the bar turning the beer sour (‘I don’t care where you were born there is no such thing as a black Englishman’) this pub was excellent, I had three Jennings brews (Cumberland, Sneck Lifter, and Bitter) and a glorious sausage and egg barm. Suitably rejuvenated I went on my way.
Reluctantly leaving the beer festival I killed the last hour before my bus in The Royal drinking an Eden Gold and watching England destroying the Australians in the second Ashes Test. I very much liked Penrith.