It was a far cry from my usual Christmas haunt. I sat in the pub on the edge of Bembridge. The sea was yards away. The beer garden tables comes with stunning views out to sea, but not today. The sea fret was rolling in towards the cliff. Portsmouth had been visible as I walked up, but not now. The concrete fort from the days of the Napoleonic wars stranded out in the bay was coming in and out of vision. I observed events near the bar. It was warm and cosy. There was a choice of 4 hand pulled bitters to choose from. I knew I wouldn't like the price before I ordered, but it is the South I said to myself..... and it is Christmas. I was tempted by the Isle of Wight brewery
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