CHAPTER 15
The George and Dragon was a pub of two halves; a modern open-plan bar and restaurant area was tacked onto a much older lounge bar over which ten en-suite bedrooms were situated. The incongruity struck me when I was handed my room key, one for a deadlock that wouldn’t have been out of place hanging from the belt of a keeper in the Tower of London.
Feeling slightly chilled from an afternoon of standing around in the cold I settled down to the traditional fayre of steak and ale pie, mash and mushy peas; far too much considering what I’d eaten in the café that afternoon but delicious nonetheless. Two large glasses of Pinot Noir later and I was finding it difficult to negotiate the stairs to my room; my slightly inebriated state not being helped by the undulating floor of the narro
