What were you called, my lovely?

It's a tragedy that the drinking of cider makes one forget essential elements of that cider, such as its name. I was in the Coach and Horses, Farringdon, last night and had a flagon of a delicious cider, tried both medium and medium sweet varieties. It was heady but not musty, it had a delightful nose but wasn't overpowering, it was 7.5% and I drank far too much of it. Then fell off my bike on the way home.

I remember, distinctly, talking about Stowford Press and Thatchers Gold, drinks I enjoyed on a recent holiday in Hereford, but they certainly weren't what I was drinking.

Anyway, this post is exacerbating my hangover so I'll sign off.